Page 33 of Friar
“It’s perfect,” he assured me, reaching for his cut and shrugging it on over a plain black T-shirt.
The ride to the clubhouse was short but tense, my arms wrapped tightly around Friar’s waist.I could feel the knot of anxiety in my stomach growing the closer we got to our destination.
The parking lot was already crowded when we arrived, bikes lined up in neat rows, a few cars scattered around the edges.Music pulsed from inside, the bass line vibrating through the walls and into the night air.Friar cut the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the sound of my heartbeat thundering in my ears.
“Ready?”he asked, swinging his leg over the bike and offering his hand.
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and took his hand.His fingers interlaced with mine, warm and steady, as we approached the entrance.Just before he pushed the door open, he leaned down to brush his lips against mine in a brief, possessive kiss.
“Remember,” he said softly, “you’re mine.They all know it.Now we’re just making sure they don’t forget it.”
The familiar wall of sound and smoke hit me as we stepped inside.Friar led me through the crowd with confidence, nodding to brothers as we passed, his body language casual but with an underlying tension that warned others to keep their distance.I kept my chin up, trying to project a confidence I didn’t feel.
“Cheri!”A familiar voice cut through the noise, and I turned to see Leigha making her way toward us, a genuine smile lighting up her face.She reached us, squeezing my free hand.“About time you showed up.I was starting to think Friar was keeping you all to himself.”
The old ladies had come by recently to introduce themselves.Lyssa, Beast’s woman, had glared at me a few times and I hadn’t understood why.It had been Leigha who’d explained that due to my situation, Lyssa viewed me as little more than a club whore.The thought had soured my stomach and made me sick, but I couldn’t deny I’d slept with three men that night.Or at least, I assumed I’d been with more than Friar from the bits and pieces I remembered.
The simple friendliness in her voice, the warmth in her smile, eased something tight in my chest.Here, at least, was one person besides Friar who seemed genuinely glad to see me.
“He tries,” I said, returning her smile with a small one of my own.
“Well, he’s going to have to share tonight,” she declared, hooking her arm through mine.“Come on, let’s get you a drink.Something virgin for Mama, of course.”
I glanced back at Friar, who nodded encouragingly.“Go ahead.I’ll grab us a table.”
As Leigha pulled me toward the bar, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.But as we reached the bar, I caught sight of a club whore across the room, her eyes narrowed in my direction, lips curled in a sneer.The momentary relief Leigha had provided evaporated.
Leigha and I found a spot at the edge of the bar, away from the thickest part of the crowd.I kept my eyes on Friar as he made his way over to a table.Then I saw the woman who had glared at me emerge from a group of club girls, her gaze locked on Friar like a predator spotting wounded prey.
“Oh shit,” Leigha muttered beside me, following my gaze.“Trouble incoming.”
The club whore had dressed for war.Her leather pants looked painted on, hugging every curve with deliberate provocation.Her top, if you could even call the scrap of fabric that plunged so low between her breasts I wondered how it stayed in place at all.Silver chains draped around her neck drew the eye to exactly where she wanted it.She’d styled her dark hair in loose waves, her makeup expertly applied to emphasize her full lips and smoky eyes.
Next to her, I felt like a child playing dress-up.
“Who is she?”I asked, not having officially met her before.
“Tasha.She’s just club pussy, but she can be an outright bitch,” Leigha said.
“Should I --” I started to ask Leigha, but she put a restraining hand on my arm.
“Wait,” she said, her voice quiet.“Let’s see how Friar handles it.”
Tasha slithered through the crowd with practiced ease, her hips swaying in a hypnotic rhythm.Men turned to watch her pass, conversations pausing mid-sentence.She reached Friar just as the bartender set our drinks down, deliberately brushing against his arm as she wedged herself between him and the man standing next to him.
“Hey, handsome,” she purred, her voice carrying clearly across the room to where we stood frozen.“Remember our good times?”
I couldn’t see Friar’s face from this angle, but I saw how his body tensed, his shoulders stiffening under his cut.Tasha didn’t wait for a response.She pressed closer, one manicured hand coming to rest on his chest, her breasts practically spilling out of her top as she leaned into him.
The bar area had gone quiet, attention shifting to the drama unfolding.I saw heads turn, whispers exchanged, eyes darting between Tasha’s display and my reaction.
My stomach knotted with a toxic mix of emotions.Jealousy flared hot and ugly in my chest, followed immediately by shame at my own insecurity.What right did I have to be jealous?Friar had been with women before me -- women like Tasha, who knew how to move in this world, who understood the rules and played the game.
“Don’t let her see you squirm,” Leigha whispered fiercely.“That’s what she wants.”
I forced myself to stand taller, to keep my expression neutral even as my insides churned.Tasha had positioned herself so that her back was to me, cutting me off from Friar’s view.I saw her head tilt back in what I assumed was laughter, her hand sliding up to rest on Friar’s shoulder.
The clubhouse had fallen so quiet I could hear the ice settling in my untouched drink.Every eye was on us -- on this triangle of tension that seemed to hold the entire room hostage.I felt exposed and vulnerable with my deepest fears playing out in front of an audience that already questioned my place here.
