“No game, just a little fun,” Clash said, his hand dangerously close to my thigh. I felt his fingertips briefly touch me and I sort of moved away, trying to keep our cover.
“It sounds to me like you are playing with fucking fire.” His angry gaze fell on me. “I know something is going on. I felt it in the hospital room.” He then turned to Snyder and Clash, who had me boxed in on the couch. “And you two have been acting funny for weeks, especially you, Snyder. You keep acting like Shasta is your girl and not Sabbath’s. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two cashed in your Hall Passes.”
My heart dropped.
“Hall Passes?” I questioned, turning to look at Snyder.
“Shut up, Ranger,” Clash warned.
“What the fuck are Hall Passes?” I questioned a little louder.
Before Snyder could open his mouth to respond, Ranger jumped in. “It was a stupid silent agreement between all the club officers. We agreed that if you ever were down to fuck one of us behind Sabbath’s back, we could cash in a Hall Pass. Basically, it means any of us could fuck you at any time, with your permission of course, and no one in the club could use it against us unless Sabbath found out. Then the sentence would be up to him.”
Clash giggled like a twelve-year-old. “He still hasn’t found out yet.”
Snyder reached over me and socked him in the arm, so hard I almost felt it. “Shut the fuck up, numb nuts.”
“What? He’s already guessing what we did and assuming it, so why keep it hidden?”
“You guys are idiots!” Ranger boomed. “Sabbath’s never been more volatile, and you two are over here playing around with his woman like you’re in kindergarten and sharing her like a red truck.”
“I personally would’ve gone for the blue truck,” Clash argued. “Red is not my color.”
“Jesus, Clash. You’re a fucking idiot,” Snyder growled, rubbing his temples.
“What would possess you to fuck the Prez’s Ol’ Lady like that?”
“You’re just mad because you didn’t get to her first,” Clash argued. “We both just cashed in when the time was right. Besides, as far as I’m concerned, she belongs to the club now. Sabbath doesn’t deserve her.”
Clash tried to grab my hand, but I jerked it away.
“A fucking Hall Pass?” I shouted. “Is that all this has been? Some fucking game to try to get into my pants?”
Clash shook his head. “Not exactly, but sorta.”
“Fuck you!” I growled. “And fuck you too!” I shouted, turning to Snyder.
Snyder’s face fell. He looked legitimately hurt by my words.
I stomped up the stairs, determined to distance myself from the two men I thought gave a fuck about me. But no, not a Lewd Outlaw. All I am—all I’ll ever be—is a goddamn trophy, something they can pass around and cash in whenever they wanted.
Well, fuck them.
Fuck Sabbath.
Fuck them all…
Except Sandman. All I want is for the big guy to pull through.
But the rest of them, they can all go to hell.
Chapter Seven
Ranger
The Mexican standoff between Snyder, Clash and myself was one for the books. Both of them sat on the couch with their jaws clenched, waiting for me to bolt for the door and snitch. But I’m no rat. And despite the fact that I think they’re stupid as all fuck for getting involved with Shasta, I have to admit, the bastards are some fucking lucky assholes.
“If I were you, Ranger, I’d keep your mouth shut,” Clash threatened.