Page 56 of Fury
"All right, ladies!" Meadow calls out, standing at the front of the bus. "First stop is dinner at Marco's, then we hit Whiskey River for some dancing. Anyone who gets too drunk gets left for the prospects to deal with!"
As the bus fills with cheers and laughter, I find myself joining in without hesitation. This is my world now, or, rather, it always was. I just needed to find my place in it.
And as the night unfolds, filled with stories of club life, relationship advice from women who've navigated these waters before me, and the kind of laughter that makes your sides hurt, I realize I've found more than just Greyson in coming home.
I've found my sisters.
Hours later, as we pile back onto the bus after eating until our bellies hurt, Tiana slides into the seat beside me. "So," she says, her voice low enough that only I can hear, "you and Greyson. It's serious?"
I nod, unable to keep the smile from my face. "Very."
She studies me for a moment, then nods approvingly. "Good. He deserves someone who looks at him the way you do. And for what it's worth, the whole family approves.
"That means a lot," I tell her, genuinely touched. "I know how important family is to Greyson."
"Speaking of family," she continues, a mischievous glint in her eye, "any plans to start one of your own? The club could use some new little prospects running around."
I nearly choke on my water. "We've only been together a few weeks!"
"So?" Tiana shrugs. "When it's right, it's right.” Her grin is almost feral, and I know that smile, it’s the same one her mother and grandfather get when they’re about to do some crazy shit.
Before I can formulate a response, Meadow announces we're approaching the bar, but all I can think about is what a family with Greyson would look like. Children with his blue eyes and maybe my smile. The thought should terrify me—it's too soon, too fast—but instead, it feels like glimpsing a future I didn't know I wanted until this moment.
I’m in big, big trouble.
Chapter
Eleven
"Welcome to Whiskey River!" Meadow shouts as we pour out of the party bus like a glittering avalanche of leather, denim, and attitude. The bouncer, a burly man with Devil Souls patches who clearly knows exactly who we are, nods respectfully and waves us past the line.
Inside, the bar thrums with energy, strobe lights sweeping across the dance floor where bodies move in rhythm to the pounding bass. I feel a moment of self-consciousness as several heads turn to watch our group enter, but Tiana hooks her arm through mine.
"Own it," she whispers. "They're staring because we're goddamn queens."
Meadow leads us to a reserved section near the dance floor, complete with "RESERVED" signs and a waitress already approaching with trays of drinks. I settle for a virgin mojito while the others knock back shots and cocktails, toasting everything from "Hot MC men" to "Freedom from prospect babysitters."
"Come on!" Elle grabs my hand, tugging me toward the dance floor. "This is my song!"
Soon we're all dancing, a circle of laughing women letting loose without worrying about club politics or responsibilities. I find myself sandwiched between Tiana and Meadow, all three of us moving in sync to a song with a throbbing beat. The tension I didn't even realize I was carrying melts away as I lose myself in the music.
"Somebody's watching you," Meadow says in my ear, nodding toward the bar.
I follow her gaze to see a group of women staring in our direction, their expressions a mix of disdain and fascination. With a jolt, I recognize them. Bethany Collins and her friends from high school. They were a couple of grades above me, the same girls who used to whisper "biker trash" when I walked past.
"Ignore them," I tell Meadow, turning my back. "Not worth the energy."
But the universe has other plans. As we make our way back to our table for a drink break, Bethany and her friends intercept us, their perfectly highlighted hair and designer outfits a stark contrast to our edgier style.
"Well, look who's back in town," Bethany drawls, her smile sharp as broken glass. "Olivia Bennett. Couldn't hack it in the real world, huh?"
I feel Tiana stiffen beside me, but I squeeze her arm in warning. "Bethany. Still hanging around the same bars, I see. How… consistent of you."
Her smile falters, but she rallies quickly. "At least I'm not slumming it with criminals. We saw you come in with your little… biker bitch parade." She looks Meadow up and down. "Still letting your daddy's friends pass you around the clubhouse?"
Meadow's face flushes with anger, but before she can respond, Vanessa steps forward, her quiet voice deadly calm. "You might want to reconsider your next words very carefully."
"Or what?" one of Bethany's friends—Kaitlyn, I think—sneers. "You'll call your thug boyfriends to rough us up? That's all they're good for, right? Violence and intimidation."
