Page 53 of Mischief Mayhem

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Page 53 of Mischief Mayhem

It didn’t matter. For someone like me, the world would be dangerous no matter where I went or what I did. The sins of my family would find me regardless, and when combined with my own debauchery, I was a time bomb waiting to explode.

The scar on my chest ached, and I rubbed my hand across it, trying to soothe it, before I grabbed my jar necklace for comfort and walked over to the booth.

“There she is!” Pollux shouted, limping over to the table with Hollywood trailing behind him, carrying a tray full of shots. Pollux stopped to grab one and hand it to me. “Hey, V, guess what time it is.”

I brought the shot to my nose for a deep inhale, wincing when the sharp scent of a very specific liquor shot up my nostrils. “Tequila thirty?”

“Tequila thirty!” Pollux agreed, grabbing another one for himself. Castor came to stand on the other side of me, followed by Saint and Ru. Once most of the MC had a glass in their hand, we held them up in the center.

“Cheers to a healthy Pollux,” KC said.

“And cheers to hot nurses!” Pollux added, throwing a free arm over the woman next to him, who I realized was the same person from the hospital.

“Cheers to hot nurses!” everyone echoed, clinking our shots together in the middle. I tipped it over my head and gulped it down, ignoring the burn in the best way possible.

I’d just put my glass down to turn my attention to Hollywood when Alba suddenly jumped off her husband’s lap.

“Oh my God, I love this song. V, come dance with me.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me out onto the dance floor before I could stop her, hustling Ru into it as we passed her. The DJ blared Bad Company while we jammed, and even though dancing in big crowds like this wasn’t behavior I normally condoned, I enjoyed Alba’s and Ru’s company. Selene eventually joined us, wrapping her arms around Ru before doing the same to me.

Sure, I looked scary in my chunky black platforms and dark eyeliner, but I liked shaking my ass. When I caught Hollywood’s stare from across the room, I bit my bottom lip and went harder. My heart raced and my knees shook, but I kept going, turning a girls’ group into a show for him.

Some of the other women hopped on to the bar to take off their shirts and flash the crowd while they danced, but I wasn’t into that—especially not with the heinous scar between my tits. No one wanted to see that. No one needed the reminder that bad things could and did happen.

“Hollywood’s staring you down,” Alba said, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Should we start a game of truth or dare?”

“No!” I grabbed her arm and shook my head, remembering the last time we’d played that game at the Viper. Ru had gotten on stage to rile up Saint, who carried her out of the bar over his shoulder. I’d gotten into a fight with a group of randos that had tried to grope me. Hollywood had to pull me off them, kicking and screaming. Truth or dare with this group always ended in bad life choices.

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Ru said. “C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

Selene narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know that I’d use the word fun, especially when we’re more likely to end up in jail at the end of the night.”

“Stop being such a negative Nancy.” Alba grinned and headed to the bar so she could order another round of shots. Ru went back to the table to tell the others what we were playing, and I headed to the bathroom.

Walking down the hallway, I passed an older man I didn’t know wearing an MC cut that I didn’t recognize from South Carolina. The Hell’s Knights. I got a good look at it because he was leaning against the wall with his forearm, crowding a much younger woman. If I had to guess, he was probably in his late forties, early fifties—my dad’s age. She had to be as young as me, if not younger.

I didn’t think much of it when I went into the bathroom and did my business. I didn’t judge women who slept with older men any more than I judged older women that slept with younger men. But when I came out of the bathroom, she was crying. She shoved at his shoulders and pleaded with him.

“Please, I’m here with my friends. Just leave me alone. Please.”

“Oh, aren’t you the little cocktease,” he growled. “Rubbing your ass all over me only to leave me hanging?”

“It’s not like that,” she said, sniffling.

If there was one thing I learned in my twenty-three years on this earth, it was that girl code didn’t give a shit about strangers. There was no place where that was stronger than in a rowdy MC bar with a bunch of drunk motherfuckers lingering around.

“Hey, there you are,” I said, intruding on the conversation like I already knew her, like I was one of the friends she mentioned. “We’ve been looking for you. Are you crying? What’s wrong?”

I got closer to her, wrapping an arm over her shoulder so I was now in between her and the old greasy dude.

“Fuck off, bitch. We’re talking here,” Old Dude said.

I read the name on his cut—Hoss.

“Yeah, it sounds like you’re making my friend cry.” I hugged the girl closer to me. “Why don’t you back off?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Hoss growled, narrowing his intense gaze on me. “No one asked for your opinion, you ugly fucking freak. Go wash your face before I rearrange it for you.”

I rolled my eyes at his posturing. I’d grown up with three older brothers and learned to defend myself by the time I was six. This ancient piece of shit didn’t scare me. My entire family was out in the other room.




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