Page 26 of Lady Sings the Blues

“Beer.”

“How ‘bout you, Elise?”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?” I whisper through the corner of my mouth. Mark smiles his crooked smile at me so I know it’s okay to relax, and ask, “Cider?”

Pretty soon we’re chatting with the man who brought the drinks. He introduces himself as Sly. When I ask why Sly, he tells me because he is. Chaos joins us and I’m introduced for the first time to Duke, the club president.

“Don’t much like hearing my men being disrespected, especially in one of our establishments. But I appreciate you coming here today to make it right.”

“I’m still really embarrassed by my behavior last night. Apparently it was stress induced.”

“Bossman never claimed an old lady before either. Seems you’re the only one he’s ever wanted. Because of that he warned us yesterday that you got a spitfire personality and aren’t accustomed to club life.”

Claimed an old lady? Is that what I am? An old lady is the official title for a member’s woman. An old lady is fully recognized by the club, and is someone not to be messed with. Like a queen to the king. How’s that going to work with me living in Chicago?

Still, instead of arguing my point which might lead to more alienation or outright hostility, both things I don’t want, especially standing at biker ground zero, I push that away for now.

“No, I’m not,” I say. “And I’ve had a lot on my mind. Even living in a big city, I’ve never actually been around a motorcycle club before. Seems there’s a lot to learn. Good thing Mark is patient.”

“You’re inexperience is the only reason we didn’t beat the shit outta your man for bringing your trouble into our club.”

“You’d really do that? Beat the shit out of him because of me?”

“Actions have consequences,” Mark says to me. And he shrugs as if completely unbothered by the idea.

“He claimed you as his woman.” Duke attempts to explain. “We don’t hit women. So by claiming you, he claimed your punishment.”

“But that seems so unfair.”

“You rather take a hit? He takes the punishment here, then it’s up to him to decide how to punishyou. But that’s between the two ‘a you in the privacy of your home.”

“I mean no disrespect, but this whole concept of punishment seems…barbaric. We’re all adults here. Why can’t we talk it out?”

“It’s our way.”

And I know that’s all the answer I’m going to get. If I decide to keep Mark in my life, I’m going to have to get used to these archaic rules.

“Where are all the women?” I chose to change subjects.

“At home or working.” Chaos offers. “Old ladies don’t usually hang around the clubhouse. Mostly for family days or parties. When we throw parties, pieces come around, too.”

“Pieces?”

“Of ass.”

“Ah…”Do not judge. Do not judge. Do not judge.“Is that the only timepiecescome around?”

“Nah.” Another man, Carver, joins us. “Pieces come around at night or earlier on the weekend whenever they feel like a little action. Most of the men are down to fuck.” He shrugs. “Available pussy’s available pussy, right?”

“But they aren’t girlfriends?”

“They’ll take whoever’s here.”

I whip my head to look at Mark. Pieces will take whoever? Is that what I can expect when I’m back home in Chicago? I’m not judging, but I’m not an open relationship kind of girl. If I don’t sleep with other men, it’s not a stretch to expect the same courtesy extended to me.

“Don’t look at me like that, darlin’. You really think I’d risk us for a piece of ass? I got the woman I want, and I’m not willin’ to share. Since you got the man you want, I have to assume the same.”

“Mark.” I tell it to him straight. “This club life has me so…so… twisted up, I’m not sure if I want to kiss you, kick you in the balls or take you into a coat closet and screw your brains out.”

---