Page 68 of Lulu

I made my way over to them, stepping around Snake and Crow where they were containing a big man who was not wearing a cut. His arms were held behind his back.

“What happened, honey?” I asked, walking up behind Lissa. My eyes fell to the small tear at her shoulder.

She spun around, her brown eyes revealing surprise at seeing me. “Lulu, you’re still here!” We hugged briefly, and then my gaze moved on to Frenchie.

“I’m okay,” he responded to the concern in my eyes. “It’s just a flesh wound. Doc’s getting his kit, now.”

“It needs stitches!” Lissa said emotionally, her shiny black hair swinging with the abruptness of her movement. “And I don’t know why you won’t let me take a look! I’m a nurse!”

“Baby, look at your hands. You’re shaking like a junkie overdo for his next fix.”

“Pff!”she hissed.

Doc showed up. “If you two lovely ladies will get out of my way I can get to my patient.” There was humor in his tone. “I brought my Band-Aids.”

Frenchie muttered something inappropriate beneath his breath before switching gears and drawing Lissa down to his mouth. “I’m good, baby.” He gave her a reassuring kiss. “Now go sit with Lulu until Doc’s done operating on me.”

I took her hand and pulled her to a table not far away. The music had stopped, which indicated that the bar was shut down and it was time for everyone to go home. The few Desert Rebels who were still there were standing around Crow and Snake as backup. The big man who I assumed was the shooter had been forced to his knees. His face looked as if he’d taken a few punches.

Lissa and I sat down, but she kept her eyes on Frenchie. “So what happened?” I asked.

“The same bullshit that always happens at these parties,” Lissa groused angrily as she wiped her wet cheeks down. “Too much drinking. Too much drugs. Before long, some asshole makes a pass at the wrong woman.”

Oh. She didn’t need to say any more. These men were extremely protective of their women, and if someone made a pass at Lissa, Frenchie would have acted accordingly. Usually, a good beatdown took care of the problem. If the rip in Lissa’s blouse was the result of that man putting his hands on her, then his fate was sealed.

“At least Frenchie’s wound isn’t bad.”

Lissa nodded, meeting my eyes. I could see that she had calmed down considerably. “I wanted to visit with you guys tonight but, um, something came up.”

“Like someone’s dick?” Lissa joked crudely. We both laughed. “We saw Brody’s caveman act, honey. None of us expected you to come down.” She glanced across the room. “He’s a hunky specimen. Is it serious?”

I followed her gaze. Brody was standing there in the same spot he’d been in when I’d first entered the room. His eyes were narrowed on me now, and he wasn’t happy. I knew why. I hadn’t stayed in the room like he’d wanted.

I agreed with Lissa. Brody was hot, and he was mine.

“I hope so,” I responded.

Her hand covered mine. “You deserve happiness, honey. You two have had something going on between you for a long time.”

My eyes rounded with surprise.

“We all saw it, Lulu. About time Brody made his move.”

I doubted that Lissa, or anyone who hadn’t been in my situation, would fully understand the politics around being a club whore. It was a commitment we made to the MC to live within the clubhouse, and to be there for the members in any capacity they needed us, though most of the time it was sexual. We did it willingly in exchange for protection, food, and shelter. Until we decided to leave, we belonged to the club. We were made available to friends of the club.

Brody could have had me at any time, but he’d chosen not to, and I was slowly beginning to understand why. He hadn’t wanted a whore. He hadn’t wanted a woman who was owned by the club. He’d wanted a woman free to make her own choices. To know that she’d come to him because she wanted him, and not just to fulfill an obligation. I glanced over at Brody again, seeing him in a slightly different light.

It all made sense now.

We were both the same in those respects.

Chapter 27

Brody

I sat on my bike outside the clinic, waiting for Lulu to get off work, my last conversation with Sanford weighing heavily on my mind.

“We found the connection,” he’d started right off by saying. “Your friend Oz is damned good on finding shit out. He’s been working with our guy.”