Page 50 of Cutter's Hope

The guys laughed, “You’re learning,” Pyro said appreciatively.

“An Ol’ Lady as in you’re my Ol’ Lady, my property, mine to keep and before you get all butt-twisted,” I chuckled at her sour expression, “It’s a pretty big honorific among our kind.”

“It’s true. Means more to a brother than a civilian wedding ring to give a woman your rag,” Radar agreed.

Hope squeezed her eyes shut and clutching the sheet to her chest, struggled to sit up. She opened her eyes and yawned.

“I’m going to need a cup of coffee and a glossary of terms to get through today aren’t I?” she asked.

“No time like the present for a crash course,” Marlin said with a shrug but I could see in his sky blue eyes that he was happy for me.

“Okay, so this is how it goes…” My brothers proceeded to blow Hope’s mind explaining the ins and outs of a woman’s place in the club.

“Wait, wait, wait… so a rag isn’t actually a rag, it’s one of those leather vests like you got only says that a woman ispropertyof whoever she’s with?”

“Pretty much but before you get pissed, you gotta understand. For us, property isn’t like just a car, or a boat, or a piece of land… it’s much more basic than that. Property, to us, issomething of value.As insomething we value above all else,” I told her. I watched her wheels turn, her dark eyes searching my face before she started to nod slowly. Pyro stooped and picked up my shirt from the night before and held it out to Hope. She took it and I had to like how comfortable she was in her own skin to be sitting here naked with a room full of my brothers and not be freaking out.

That wasn’t to say she was being immodest either. She had the sheet covering everything important and then some, even as she pulled my shirt over her head she was careful not to let it slip. Fucking perfect mix of tough and feminine, of being ballsy yet having grace. She was tripping all the right triggers for me and I was so incredibly struck with just howgratefulI was that she wanted to stick around.

Hope dragged her long dark hair out of the back of the collar of my shirt and sighed, “Coffee before I kick someone’s ass,” she said just as Trike, our prospect, pushed through the open doorway with two of those cardboard drink holders perched on one arm, a bag of what smelled suspiciously like doughnuts hanging out of his hand.

“Thank you, Jesus! Trike, you’re now officially my favorite,” Hope said and reached out both hands, opening and closing her hands in the classic toddler sign for ‘gimme’. The guys laughed and they fed and caffeinated her first. I smiled and took a drink of nasty tepid doughnut shop coffee that’d sat on the burner too long out of a crappy Styrofoam cup.

“I didn’t think they made Styrofoam anymore,” I griped.

“Me either,” someone said.

We put down some coffee and munched on fried dough while Hope’s crash course continued. Her mind sufficiently full and turning things over, she sat for a long minute in silence.

“Kay, get the fuck out. I’m getting up,” she said finally and waved them all off. The guys laughed and stepped out into the bright sunshine, leaving the door open a sliver behind them.

“Kiss me,” I demanded and she smiled, leaning across the bed. She put her arms against my chest and fell into me, and kissed me with what tasted a lot like commitment underneath the stale coffee and sugary sweetness of the half assed breakfast we’d just consumed.

“I love it when you order me around like you’re all tough,” her voice was pitched low and if I had to describe it, ‘sex kitten’ came to mind as a perfectly acceptable label to put on it. I smacked the outside of her thigh.

“Get in the shower, Hope; before I fuck you and we don’t go anywhere today,” she grinned and backed off of me, stopping in the bathroom doorway.

“Damn, and I was hoping you were going to join me,” she said and she didn’t have to invite me twice. I was up and under the spray before she got my shirt off over her head.

We showered in record time, even for us, and dressed carefully. Hope dressed to ride and pulled her hair into a tight French braid. I was putting on my boots when she bounded onto the bed behind me. She gathered my wet hair in her hands and I froze and let her tend to me. She didn’t put it into a French braid like hers, but rather just combed it out and put it into a low, regular braid, tight and efficient.

“Thanks,” I murmured. She put her arms around my shoulders and hugged herself to my back, nuzzling the side of my neck and giving it a quick kiss.

“Welcome,” she breathed and just as quick as she’d been, she was up, shrugging into her jacket and giving a last check to her boot laces.

I pulled on my jacket and cut and pulled my keys out of my pocket. She had her helmet on and I put on my glasses as we went out into the bright light and oppressive, muggy heat that was classic Louisiana.

“About fuckin’ time!” Pyro called up. Hope bounced on the balls of her feet a couple of times and gave him the finger. He grinned up at us and we came down from the second floor and went to my bike. I fired it up and Hope got on behind me. I missed Florida, and the ride we took helmet free. I missed watching her expression and the wind catching her hair. I fucking hated the impersonal black carapace looking helmet that hid her beautiful brown eyes and sharp features from me.

She snugged up close to my back, her arms around me and I took off, my boys fell in and we went back to the Voodoo Bastard’s compound to one hell of a fucking barbeque going on full swing. No wonder the guys seemed excited. None of us were overtly a fan of a strict diet of fast food.

We parked and Hope wandered over to her bike to drop her helmet with it, but she wasn’t fooling anybody. She wanted to make sure her pride and joy was doing okay. Satisfied she came back over and we spent the next few hours strategizing and talking about how we wanted tonight to go down.

One of Ruth’s boys had been sent on some recon the night before to get the layout of Objections. Apparently it was a higher class joint. One that did jeans, but paired with some Nancy boy polo, certainly not with a jacket and cut. His man hadn’t been able to get in and no one else could pass muster either. So it looked like we were flying blind.

“Well that leaves you out in the cold, Lover,” Hope mused, and she didn’t sound at all happy about it. Still it didn’t get her down, she was already looking over the rest of The Kraken and Voodoo Bastards alike. She took a sip of her Sweet Tea out of its red Solo cup, ice cubes rattling as she contemplated her options.

“Marlin’s out, too,” she muttered.

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