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Seeing Cilla’s discomfort, Jaime smirked, her blue eyes glimmering darkly.
Jaime flexed her hands and planted a paw on Patriot’s chest. He tensed, but did nothing to stop Jaime from sliding her hand from his defined pecs to his neck.
How much more of this is he going to make me watch?
Her gut clenched and nausea slithered through her. The Jack and soda, and nachos she’d ingested, turned into tar in her stomach.
“Aw, poor little baby Cilla, not used to hanging with adults? Don’t worry, Patriot and I will take this back to his place soon enough. He’s a fucking animal in the sack, but you would know what that’s like right? Being an animal yourself—snort, snort!”
Patriot slammed his fist on the table and grabbed Jaime by the back of the neck, holding her in place as he snarled in her face.
“Shut the fuck up, Jaime. Stop being a bitch and leave Cilla alone,” he warned, his voice a deadly timbre. He dropped his voice just low enough for Jaime and Cilla to hear. “And I wouldn’t take you back to my place if you were dying and the only way to save your life was to fuck you.” With that, he pushed her away from him so forcefully, she stumbled off the booth seat and nearly fell on her ass on the concrete floor. Gripping the edge of the table to remain upright—she’d had more than a few drinks, after all—her eyes widened with shock, and her mouth hung open in disbelief.
Jaime looked like a slapped fish.
“What the fuck, Patriot?” Jaime squealed, drawing the attention of the crowd and the people at the other club table. Seconds later, Sasha and Tasha were standing beside their bestie, glaring daggers at Cilla—like it was Cilla’s fault their friend was dropped like a hot, rotten potato.
“Shit,” Patriot muttered before reaching out and putting a hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “Sorry.”
At his apology, Jaime smirked, lifting her chin as if basking in his penitence like a blasphemed goddess.
Wait…he apologized? To Jaime?
Cilla’s gaze snapped to Patriot whose expression was one of intense contrition—like he was truly upset by what he’d done. His gaze flicked to Cilla, and she could see a flash of fear just before it was replaced with regret.
“Hey!” her friend’s barked word jerked Cilla’s attention from Patriot. Stephie was pointing a half-eaten hot wing at Sasha. “Don’t look at her like that, she’s not to blame for Jaime’s fall,” Stephie spat, ignoring Horde’s hand on her neck, no doubt reminding her where they were, and that the club didn’t like negative attention. She turned, snarled at Horde, and then turned back to Jaime and sneered, “Take your skank friend and get your skank asses out of here.”
Sasha shrieked, “I’m with Tornado, I have as much right to be here as you. I’m club, just like you. So are Jaime and Tasha.” Cilla wanted to remind her that Tasha wasn’t club, she was a hangaround, too, but suddenly, three sets of viperous eyes were pinned to her, and Cilla could feel the poison of hatred seep from her flesh and into her blood. “If anyone doesn’t belong here, it’s her. She’s just a hang around, she’s not club, and fat chance that any of the brothers would even look at her twice let alone claim her.”
“Sasha!” Patriot snapped, pouring rage down on her head, but that only made Jaime’s eyes narrow on him. He seemed to recalibrate at her look, as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
Like defend Cilla.
“What, Patriot? You act like you like the fatty,” Jaime said, then snorted. “With as often as you two hang out, you’d think you two were together—but I know that’s not the case, because no one would ever fuck that. Besides, you’re with me, aren’t you baby?” She sidled up next to him and slid a claw down from the corded muscles in his neck to the hard planes of his chest. Behind her, Cluster, Marci, and two prospects came to a stop, staring at the group at the table like they were waiting for something truly juicy to go down.
Jaime shifted to look over her shoulder at the brothers and her friend, turned back to Patriot, and smirked. “I know you’re mad right now, baby, but I’ll make you feel real good later.”
Patriot grunted, his body tense beside Cilla, vibrating with the will to hold back, to play along with Jaime’s game. Right?
Hold back…play along…because his club brothers were there, and…Cilla was his dirty secret.
“I’m not mad, and Cilla is just a friend of a friend. It’s not like that between us.” Patriot’s words rang like the church bells at a funeral, signaling death.
Humiliation flooded her, making the blood rise to her skin, where it turned the whole of her a bright pink—she could feel her neck and cheeks burning. God…would this night ever end? And that wasn’t the worst of it…because while the Slutketeers spat their ugly words, Patriot sat there, saying nothing, doing nothing—for the second time that night, he’d allowed someone—a club woman, with the rights and protection of the Unchained MC—to treat her like shit.
She stared at him, waiting…waiting…waiting for him to take back what he’d said to Jaime, to tell Jaime that he was wrong, and that Cilla wasn’t just a friend of a friend, she was his forever. His ol’ lady. But long moments passed as the women continued to spew angry, mean words, then Tasha joined in until they were all tearing her to pieces. Drunk as hell, Stephie was yelling at them, gaining more attention than Horde liked, because he was trying to calm her down by hissing at the Slutketeers to get the hell out. They didn’t listen, because they too, were drunk, and having far too much fun skinning Cilla with their words.
And the whole time, Patriot sat there, mute, picking at his own basket of hot wings. Finally, he turned to her, and the look in his eyes tore a hole in her stomach.
Conflict. Confusion. Anger…and resignation.
He was torn between defending her and drawing attention to them as a couple, and keeping them a secret and letting the women continue their tirade.
It was obvious which he’d chosen.
She was done.
Gathering the dregs of her strength and pushing the agony of humiliation, betrayal, and rejection aside until she could get home and fall apart, Cilla squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and locked eyes with Sasha.
