Though I wasn’t so sure how either of them would get Deloris or Beulah into the mall, apparently, they had no problem because when people saw them, they quickly turned and walked away.
So, there I was, walking the Purgatory Mall with two larger-than-life bikers who were scarier than their overly vivacious pets.
“What do you think about this one?” I asked, holding up a matching set of pink pajamas that looked ultra-comfy.
“Why you wanna get that?” Shamrock asked, scouring the racks himself as if he were searching for something particular. “I would have thought Reaper would prefer ya nekkid.”
“Max and I aren’t like that.”
“Like what?” Snake asked, walking over, leaning against the wall.
“Why you call him Max? His name is Reaper,” Snake asked, petting Beulah.
“Because he’s always been Max to me.”
“But his name is Reaper.”
“Now see…I don’t understand that. Why does everyone call Max Reaper and Uncle Peter, Hellhound?”
“Road names,” Shamrock said, holding up a black tank top with skulls on it with matching shorts to me. Shaking my head, he put them back. “When a brother gets patched in, they get a road name, but not us because Shamrock and Snake are our names.”
“Kinda a big deal. Big party too, lots of pussy,” Snake grinned.
“Will I get one? Well…minus the pussy, that is.”
“No,” Shamrock said. “Women aren’t’ allowed in the club.”
“Well, that isn’t fair,” I said, stopping my search looking at them both.
“You can be Reapers ol’Lady,” Shamrock offered.
“What’s that?”
“Reapers, woman.”
Confused, I asked, “Max has a woman. Like a girlfriend?”
Both men laughed. “No. Reaper just fucks. Hard.”
“So, who is his old Lady?”
“You,” Shamrock grinned. “He claimed you.”
“Huh? When?”
“When you got here.”
“So, I’m his girlfriend?”
“No. His woman. Not a cut-slut, or whore, his woman.”
“Well,” I grinned. “I’m glad I’m not any of the others.”
“Stop confusing her, Shamrock,” Snake groused. “Remi, it’s easy. When a club member claims a woman, they’re protected. No one can touch them, ever. Reaper claimed you. You are his woman, and we show you that respect.”
“How bout’ this one?” Shamrock asked, holding up a red corset with silk ties, a G-string, and fishnet thigh highs.
Gulping, my face heated, and gently shook my head no.