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He makes his way through the crowd, chatting with other club members. I can tell from their expressions that they’re concerned. Had Paddy not told me about this rival gang stuff, I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention.
Knowing what I know now, however, has made me attuned to the entire MC’s vibe, which fills me with unpleasant tension on top of the preexisting uncertainty regarding my dynamic with Orion, Kai, and Drake.
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter when I see Carla come into the clubhouse. “I need alcohol for this.”
Without hesitation, I grab one of the whiskey bottles and pour myself a quick shot before she reaches my side of the bar, letting the amber liquid burn through me. To my relief, it does manage to take some of the edge off.
By the time she’s in front of me, only the broad wooden counter between us, I feel like I can handle whatever she is ready to throw my way.
“What’s your stiffest drink?” she asks.
“That would be the absinthe,” I say, noticing her puffy eyes and uneven makeup. She looks like she’s been crying for days, to the point where not even a double layer of foundation can help her. Judging by her simple tank top and ragged jeans, she’s not working tonight. “But it’ll do quite the number on you.”
“Yeah, that’s what I want,” Carla replies.
Now I’m curious. She’s not her usual belligerent self. She’s not even looking around, hoping to see Orion anywhere, which is usually her first move. Hell, she’s not remotely interested in ripping my eyeballs out, either. It’s strange and kind of sets me on edge, even more so than I am already.
I pour her a shot of absinthe and add a glass of water on the side, well aware that she’ll need it.
“Here you go,” I say, adding a teaspoon of white sugar to her greenish-blue drink. “Mix that up and down it, then the water.”
Carla stares at the shot glass for a few moments. With one swift move, she drinks the absinthe and the water, her nose scrunching up from a plethora of contradicting sensations while the spirit works its way into her bloodstream. “I’m gonna regret this decision, but I’ll take another one,” she says.
“Are you okay?”
“What’s it to you?” she raises a thin eyebrow at me.
“Carla, I’m not feuding with you. Seriously. I mean, you no harm; you’re the one who keeps trying to start something.”
She shakes her head slowly, then takes a seat at the bar, her bony shoulders dropping in defeat. “I know. It’s my stupid ego,” Carla sighs. “I don’t know when to let things go. You’re not to blame, anyway. I do need another one of those, though,” she adds, pointing at the empty shot glass. “It tastes funny, but I like what it’s doing to me.”
“Okay,” I mutter and pour her a second drink. “Is everything all right?”
“Not by a mile,” she says. “But I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you do work it out,” I say.
“Why’s everybody so iffy here tonight?” Carla asks, glancing around and noticing the tension. “They look like they’re about to take Old Yeller behind the shed and put him out of his misery or something.”
I chuckle softly and help myself to a second shot of whiskey. “Paddy said there’s trouble brewing with a rival MC. Someone’s coming for the clubhouse. Or, at least, that’s what they think is going to happen.”
“Ugh, every other year, another numb nut with a Harley and some crack money takes over a gang and thinks he can shake Orange County up like he owns the whole district,” Carla groans, shaking her head in dismay. “And every other year, that same numb nut ends up dead in a ditch after pissing off the wrong people. I’ve heard this tale before, and I know how it ends. Don’t worry about it.”
“The Blackthorn Riders MC has been around for decades,” I say. “They’re one of the most respected in the county.”
“And feared,” Carla reminds me. “Don’t let their niceness toward you, Daddy’s Girl, fool you. These fellas are brutal and ruthless when it comes to the club and the club business.” She pauses and gives me a hard look. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, but you’ll figure it out on your own. And when you do, when you see them for who they really are, you’re gonna run screaming for the hills.”
Her words unsettle me. On one hand, I pity her. That’s the bitterness inside Carla talking, yet I can’t shake the feeling that there is truth behind those tired eyes. I don’t know the Blackthorn Riders guys as well as she does.
Paddy told me stories. Dad, too, but I’ve never had any contact with the rough side. I just stick to the bar and the usual chatter over the counter while serving drinks.
I witnessed a glimpse of their propensity for violence with Kyle, who had trouble keeping it in his pants and damn near lost his head over it. I shudder to think what these men are truly capable of when pushed to their limits. Yet it’s precisely this dark side of theirs that makes them even more appealing.
Maybe there’s a part of me that resonates with them, with the rebel side, with the criminality. Maybe my rebelling against my father’s wishes is just a whim that will eventually fade. But until then, I intend to make the most of it.
Orion took me once, and I want more. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I want Kai and Drake to jump in, too. These fantasies brewing in the back of my head require a physical conclusion. And I plan to get it.
“Another drink?” I ask Carla with a half-smile, but I’m already pouring that third shot of absinthe.
