He busted out a laugh that had me giggling at the absurdity of what I’d done.

“Goddamn, kid.”

“He made me mad and it just...came out.” I didn’t bother telling him Dex had called me a princess first. The phone conversation I’d overheard two days ago was still fresh in my mind. No need to fuel that fire, right?

Sonny nodded, dropping to his butt in front of my car before sliding back underneath it. “You sure you don't want me to have a talk with him?"

The sneaky turd. I didn't even need to think about it. "You already had a talk with him."

Sonny snickered but didn't apologize or make any excuses for the conversation he'd had following the fit he'd thrown in his bedroom.

"I do want to look for another job though if you know anyone else, " I offered him up. "Preferably one with someone who reminds you of unicorns and rainbows."

I heard him laugh from beneath the car. "Kid, I don't think anybody in the club would remind me of unicorns and rainbows," he replied, still laughing.

"Glitter and tutus?"

He snorted. "Hell no." Thinking better of it, he added, "Maybe Trip."

~ * ~ *

I was bored out of my friggin’ mind.

Thirty minutes in, and I was ready to get the heck home.

Sonny had finally told me about the "party"—it really just seemed like an excuse to go to the bar—and on top of that, I’d found out that the guys from the shop were going to be there, I’d been relieved. While hanging out in places where I didn’t know anyone usually freaked me out a bit, I’d mentally prepared myself for the fact that I was practically starting my life over. New city, new job, new home, new friends.

New, new, new, new, new.

I’d decided a few days ago that all this new stuff needed a solid commitment from me if I wanted to make it work long term. My hermit days of working to scrape by needed a positive boost. Plus, Sonny wouldn't let me get away with the same stuff that Lanie had. Like staying in, eating Ramen noodles, and watching PBS on Friday nights because we couldn’t afford cable.

So I’d thrown a tough smile on my face and driven to the bar after work. Pins wasn’t set to close until one but business was slow, and I’d already clocked in over eight hours, Slim had told me to go ahead and go. Was I going to argue with him about staying? No way.

Things all day had been awkward. Dex The Dick had been in a surprisingly good mood with everyone. He wasn’t grumpy or aloof like usual, and I wasn’t sure whether to thank the fact that he paid off his loan or the fact that he’d gotten laid—gag—last night, for it.

The thing that got to me though was that not once had I heard any of the guys complain about his previous shit-titude. Back at my old job, if my boss was having a bad day and was on an ass-ripping mission from hell, we’d all talk about him the moment we had the chance. Or at least I’d roll my eyes.

But did anyone say anything about Dex?

Nope.

I had no one to roll my eyes with. No one who understood my resentment for the jerk who had made me feel like I had no business breathing the same air as him just because he was supposedly having a bad day. I could only come up with the conclusion that while Slim, Blue, and Blake were friendly, they hadn’t completely let me into the ranks yet.

Having someone else call him a dick wasn’t too much to ask for, was it?

When Slim gave me the chance to get out of there so I could avoid being in Dex The Dick’s general vicinity, I took it. I changed as quickly as I could—because you don’t go to a bar owned by bikers wearing business casual.

Now that I was more familiarized with the area, I realized the bar was just two blocks down from Pins and the body shop Sonny worked at. It seemed like the entire city mile was Widowmakers' territory. There were a handful loitering around outside with my brother in their midst.

Old, still smelling strongly of cigarettes, pee, and beer, Mayhem had new upgrades like flat screen televisions mounted on the wall and new pool tables lined up far from the entrance that clashed with the old bar. The lights were dim, the place was as loud and crowded as it'd been two weeks before. And for some strange reason, I didn't feel completely awkward there like I usually did when I'd gone to bars with Lanie.

This in itself said something because in the first five minutes I was inside, someone had broken off a bottle against the edge of the counter and held it up to someone else's throat before two Club members split them up.

Sonny and I walked around the floor. I smiled and waved at some of the people he'd introduced me to the last time. People who knew the complicated web of our lives thanks to an irresponsible former Widow.

And apparently, because I was getting so chummy with strangers who were a little interested to meet a former member's daughter, Sonny thought it'd be fine to leave me.

The horny bastard said he’d be right back, and thirty minutes later, he wasn’t. I’d seen him spying some brunette across the bar before pulling a Las Vegas magic show act on me and disappearing.

What was a girl who didn’t really know anyone supposed to do? Sit her ass at the bar, watch, and wait.

And watch and wait was what I did. About a quarter of the people boozing and being really friggin' loud were dressed like Luther and Trip: jeans, a t-shirt, and a black leather vest with multitudes of patches. And so many tattoos I didn't know where to begin looking. I could still remember the WMC insignia my dad had worn proudly until he'd gotten it covered up one day randomly. I was never sure what had officially cut his affiliations with the Club after nearly a decade of living away from Austin but honestly, I didn’t give a crap.

Not a single one.

The other half of the people milling around Mayhem doing shots, yelling, laughing, and smoking something I had a feeling wasn’t legal in the corner, were still pretty rough looking.

Glancing around, I’d never seen so many tattoos, leather, and facial hair in my life—and that was just the men.

The women were all around mid-to-late twenties and older. Their skin and hair colors ranged across the color spectrum. Clothes were obviously optional after I’d seen a couple women flash their boobs just for the hell of it.

It totally made sense to me right then why my mom had hightailed it back to Florida when she found out she was pregnant with me. In the ten minutes that followed the first broken-bottle-to-the-throat incident, someone got socked in the face. What did I do? I sat there and watched.

Maybe I should have felt awkward and out of place. I was used to being alone and I didn't mind it. But even though the men were loud, burly, and kind of intimidating and overbearing, I liked listening to their laughs and voices.

I found myself alone, nursing a glass of orange juice Sonny had ordered for me, and people-watching. It was like my senior prom all over again minus the fancy dress, orange juice, and smoking.

The guys from the shop hadn’t shown up yet, and at that point, I was desperate enough to attach myself at the hip to any of them. Well, with the exception of Dex.

“Iris.”

I whipped around to spot Trip making his way toward the part of the bar I was at, dressed in a nearly identical outfit as the one from the day before. He was also either on his way to Shit-Facedville based on the glazed look in his eyes, or already there.

“What are you doin’ here all by yourself, pretty Iris?” he drawled lazily, stopping to the side of me.

“Waiting on Sonny,” I told him with a smile, but really, I was making sure he wasn’t a belligerent drunk. Or worse, someone with a weak stomach. He hadn't been last time we stopped in but you could never be too sure. Getting thrown up on wasn’t on my list of things I’d like to suffer through any time soon.