Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel) (20 page)

He shook his head. “Not in this club they
don’t.”

I swallowed hard. “What’s gonna happen to
Tank?”

“
How many people saw you two?” I
told him the whole story, telling him about the group of men and
Ian. He shook his head. “Probably not much. He didn’t know who you
were, and you hit him because he grabbed you. Both he and Matty
should get out of it with no more than a warning. I’ll argue that
point on their behalf at Court.”

“
I don’t understand.” My voice was
quiet, brain on overload. “What does court have to do with the
club?”

He chuckled. “Court is a meeting
that all patched members need to attend. It’s where we talk about
problems, like this one, and vote on policies. I wouldn’t worry as
much about Tank as I would about what’s gonna happen to you when
Mateo finds out.”

I snorted sarcastically. “What’s
he gonna do? Spank me? He’d have to be here to do that. Plus, I’m
pretty sure you’ve already figured out, I like it.” I smiled
happily as he looked away, uncomfortable. “Besides, Matty would
never do anything to hurt me.”

“Joey.” His tone was cold and
harsh. “It's not about hurtin' you. It's about teachin' you your
place and keepin' you safe."

I groaned in frustration, making his eyes snap
back to mine. "God, he doesn't need to keep me safe! I'm pretty
sure I've proved I can handle that on my own!"

"That's his fuckin' job. Stop emasculatin' him
for fucks sake!"

“
I’m not emasculating him!” I
snapped back.

"You are! Every fuckin' time you say shit like
that, you're telling him you don't need him. You're sayin' you're
too good for his life!'

“I am not!" I yelled, thoroughly
pissed off. "The life he lives with you here is so different than
anything I’m used to. I’m struggling to figure out how in the hell
the man I love can be ok with the ass-backwards rules that you have
in place. I’m not property—no one owns me and no one is responsible
for my actions but me!"

Rocker tried to interrupt, but I
held up my hand. “I get that this is your life. I fucking get it!
But, you need to understand that I fell head over heels in love
with a geeky social worker that loves to run, listens to the worst
music on the planet, and can make me laugh even when I want to cry.
I’m trying to accept that he’s…” I trailed off, not sure what I’m
trying to say. Sighing, I pushed myself off the bed. “I love him,
Rob. I'm just trying to figure out where I fit in.”

Chapter 19

Jo

The sounds of traffic coming in
through my window and a few smutty books on my Kindle were the only
things I had to keep me company that night and the next morning.
That was perfectly fine with me. I was in a foul mood and didn’t
want to talk to anyone. I preferred to mentally beat myself up
without an audience.

Matty had called a bunch of times
last night after I’d sent him a text telling him I had a headache
and was going to bed early. This morning he’d blown up my phone.
His last message had been simple: “Babe, you’ve gotta talk to me at
some point.” Long audible sigh. “Rob told me what happened. I love
you, Joes. Just call me back.”

I would, as soon as I figured my shit
out.

I would never ask Matty to leave
this life because I understood the appeal. Being a member of a
motorcycle club was about being a member of something bigger than
yourself—a fraternity of brothers that would support you and always
have your back. It wasn’t like MC’s were the only groups like that.
There were Mason’s, actual fraternities at every college
nationwide, and then the boy’s club many women had to face at work.
The club was as big a part of him as anything else, and I wouldn’t
change a single thing about the man I loved.

So, if I was determined to be with
him, I had two choices. Accept the role as ‘his’ and whatever that
entailed, or take the same stance Becky had and be his ‘other
life.’ I didn’t know if I could handle having just a piece of him,
though. For a decade, we’d been inseparable, talking when we
couldn’t be together. I couldn’t imagine a life with anything
less.

The politics of the club pissed me
off. I could understand the ‘can’t tell you ‘cause its club
business’ attitude. As a caseworker, I’d been bound by strict
confidentiality laws and there were many days that I’d been called
out on an emergency only to say to my family ‘Mommy’s gotta work.’
They didn’t know what I was doing, or how dangerous of a situation
I was walking into. The fact that Matty couldn’t discuss club
business with me was the same thing. The club was almost like a
second job. I was no longer a caseworker, so he couldn’t discuss
either job with me. It took a few hours to get my head around it,
but it really did make sense. If I didn’t know what he was doing, I
couldn’t be forced to tell anyone else.

There was more to my negativity
towards the club than that, though. I had never been labeled a
feminist, yet I felt like one now. Women should have the same
rights as every man in that club, as long as they’d earned them.
The fact that they looked at me as nothing more than property made
my stomach roll. If I succeeded or failed, I wanted it to be on my
own merits, not because of Matty. But, most of all, I didn’t want
Matty to be judged by how I behaved. I was my own person, and after
everything with Will over the last few years, I felt like I needed
to know I could depend on myself.

Realizing I could never make the
decision alone, I longed to pick up the phone and talk to Teagan.
She’d never understand any of this though, and would tell me to get
my ass home. Cris was out, too. She’d gone away with her boy toy
for the weekend. That left just one other person that may
understand where I was coming from. Taking a deep calming breath, I
grabbed my phone and dialed the person I knew who would give it to
me straight.

“Jo!” Jessie gasped, out of
breath. “I was just gonna call you!”

I groaned. “About the Tank thing?”

It was quiet from her end for a split second.
“Tank thing?” I could hear the confused curiosity. “Noooo. I needed
to ask you a favor. But, now I’m a little worried. What Tank
thing?”

I quickly relayed yesterday’s
events. Halfway through, just as I’d gotten to the part about him
kissing me, she started to laugh uncontrollably. “Oh, my God!” she
chortled. “He must have been mortified! I’m sorry, I’m afraid
that’s partly my fault. I told him he needed to find a girl and
enjoy himself for a little while.”

I finished the story, leaving out Cris, to
more laughter. “I need to talk to you about it all, though. Can you
meet for coffee in a bit?”

“Ummm…” I heard the hesitation in
her voice. “I’m actually on my way out of town, that’s why I called
you. I’m supposed to go to some fundraiser with Rocker tomorrow
night. He got tickets at the last minute and he needs help
schmoozing someone. It’s a black tie shindig that is extremely
‘high society.’” I smiled at her fake British accent.

I couldn’t believe Jess would pass up a date
with Rob, especially one that sounded so elegant. “Why can’t you
go?”

She sighed. “Long story short? Tank’s
girlfriend is a fuckin’ piece of shit. I talked to her last week
and told her about his welcome home party. She promised she’d be
there but never showed. Since he’s been back, she hasn’t answered
her phone. She sends him a text every now and then, but they’re
cryptic at best. She told him she’d be at the clubhouse first thing
this morning. Still hasn’t shown. He’s going looking for her, and
I’m not letting him go alone.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Guilt
flooded me as I remembered how mean I’d been yesterday. “Do you
think she’s just avoiding him?”

“
I fuckin’ hope so. He went away
to keep her ass safe, so I hope to Christ we don’t find her in
trouble again. Will you go with Rob for me?”

“Yeah, um…about that,” I
hesitated, searching for words. “We had a little bit of a squabble
yesterday, and then he didn’t come home last night. He may not want
me to go with him.”

“Jeez, you’re fighting with
everyone, aren’tchya? I already talked to him, though, and he told
me that if I could convince you to go, he’d love to take
you.”

“Ok.” I hesitated. “What in the
hell should I wear?” We spent a few minutes talking about the
details, and I grabbed a pen and paper from the nightstand to write
down all the places where she had appointments to get beautiful
tomorrow.

“I have a coupla extra minutes…”
She hesitated. “You know, if you wanna ask me what you called to
ask me.”

I fumbled for words. “From a woman’s
perspective, is it worth it? The club, I mean.”

She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.” I heard her
zipping what I assumed was a suitcase. “I’m a young, pretty, single
woman living alone in a city and I don’t have one fear. Those boys
will protect me from anything. I’ve dated many of them over the
years and I’ve dated men from outside the club. Bastards are a
special breed of men. I was treated like a fuckin’ queen,
worshipped like a goddess, and respected by all of them. If one of
them makes you a promise, he keeps it. If for some reason he can’t,
his brother’s do. I know that if I’m scared or need help with
anything, they will be by my side in minutes. They are the best
family anyone could ask for.”

“
You don’t think their views are a
bit…”

“Outdated? Discriminatory?” she
interrupted, laughing. “I do. But, tell me where you’ve been that
isn’t that way. At least the Bastards have rules they follow. Out
in the world, if a man touches you and you say no, you can file
charges against him, maybe claim sexual harassment. Then it becomes
a ‘he said, she said’ nightmare and every decision you’ve ever made
is questioned. In the Bastards? A member that touches you when you
don’t want him to gets his ass beat or loses his colors.

“I know that I could be drunk off
my ass, work one of the boys up, and then say no, and that Bastard
would let me walk away without so much as a scratch. I’d probably
have to pay a fine, or lose club privileges for a while, but that
man would not hurt me. Granted, I would never pull shit like that
because if they’re going to treat me with respect, it’s gonna get
returned.” She paused and I heard a loud thump. “I gotta hit the
road. Call Rocker, tell him you’re gonna be his date and clear the
air while I’m gone. ‘k?”

*****

I loudly cursed my skirts the next
evening as I rode the elevator up to the top level of my apartment.
There was no way in hell I’d be able to navigate the stairs in
them. They weren’t extremely bulky, but they were a horrific
combination of full, tight, and long. Whenever I moved, I had to
yank a handful of the material off the ground and then I had to
take small steps to avoid tearing. I swear the slit up my left side
had ripped a little higher already, and I’d only had the dress on
for fifteen minutes.

I had assumed that searching for a
formal gown on the day before you had to wear it would be
difficult. I couldn’t have been more wrong. After I called Rob to
tell him I’d go, Hawk had shown up at the apartment with Rocker’s
credit card in hand and had taken me to a designer boutique. Twenty
minutes after I walked through the door, I was standing on a stool
in the middle of the shop, being fitted into one of the most
beautiful gowns I’d ever seen. The sales staff had taken one look
at me and told me it was the perfect dress for my figure. Wearing
it was another story, though.

The sea foam wrap gown was more
daring than anything I’d ever owned. Thin sparkly straps crossed
each other on my upper back and continued over my shoulders and
onto my chest, crossing once again, each side holding a breast
before continuing onto my hips, before the left side wrapped back
around my back where it met the other on my right hip and was tied.
The bottom half was made up of layers of silk and had a slit that
went almost up to my left hip. The dress, combined with all the
pampering I’d had done, made me feel like a princess.

I hadn’t just spent the day
getting pretty, however. I’d also been researching. The Bastards,
it seemed, needed a new lawyer. They had one on retainer, but after
Tank had been convicted, Rocker had started looking for another.
Jonathan Greenwood, Esq. was the best criminal attorney in the
state, Rocker had explained when he came home Friday night, and he
hadn’t lost a single case. However, he was very selective of his
potential clients and wouldn’t return the club’s calls.

Mr. Greenwood had a soft spot for
smart and strong willed women. Cris had been the first option.
That’s where Caleb came in. He was a partner in the firm Greenwood
owned and couldn’t resist her advances after one of her classes at
the gym. Something told me that he walking into her studio hadn’t
been an accident. However, after weeks of dating, Cris still hadn’t
met Caleb’s boss.

Now, it was my turn. Rob had
friends everywhere and one of them had made sure we would share a
table with Greenwood tonight. I would sit right next to him, making
small talk and charming him until I had him wrapped around my
finger. Or, until I could show him that the Bastards were worth his
time. No pressure.

I pushed a hand against my
stomach, trying to will away the nerves as the elevator opened. My
date stood in the hall, waiting for me, holding out an arm. “You
look absolutely stunning, Ms. Walker.”