“Club girls?”
Diesel cleared his throat. “Chicks who are taken care of by the club. You know, they help us out with some things and we give them room and board. It works out most of the time.”
Myla caught on right away that the women were there for the men’s sexual pleasure. She had to smile at how Diesel was trying to explain the situation without really explaining it.
“They won’t bother you. They’ll know you’re with me and respect that. It’s just that they may be snarky and shit like that.”
“I’m sure I can handle it. Besides, I’m not interested in making any new friends.”
Another laugh came from deep in his chest. “You’ll do all right. The other guys will leave you alone ’cause they’ll know you’re with me too.”
“Okay. I’ll do my best to fit in. Anyway, it’s only for a short time.”
“Yeah, that’s a good attitude.”
Myla checked the closet and drawers one last time and picked up her shoulder bag and tote.
“I’m all set.”
Without a word, Diesel grabbed the two suitcases, and they walked out of the room.
Chapter Five
The heavy bass beat made the floor in Diesel’s room vibrate. Myla had been camped out there for the past three days, and it still seemed like she’d been dropped into another world. She couldn’t get used to the constant noise that filled the clubhouse most hours of the day. If the men weren’t playing poker, darts, or pool, they had parties—and boy, did they have a lot of parties—or watching car racing or sports on the big screen television in the great room. If everyone was hung over after a club party, they just moped around and listened to heavy metal or hard-rock songs from a jukebox.
Myla had been on her own since she’d turned sixteen and wasn’t used to being around a lot of people, let alone living with them and their lifestyle. When she moved in with Freddy, it was exciting and new, but having someone in her space was a bit of an adjustment. However, it was never anything like what went on inside the clubhouse. During the last three days—it seemed much longer than that—she often wondered how the men and women who lived here could keep up the frenzied pace. It was driving her bonkers, and she was in Diesel’s room most of the time.
The doorknob rattled, then the door flew open. Diesel walked in, throwing her a side grin as he made his way to the tall dresser against the south wall.
“Another party downstairs?” She stretched her legs out in front of her, smoothing her jean skirt with her hands.
“Looks like it. A few of the brothers are setting up the poker tables.”
“Do you guys ever just have a quiet night watching a good movie or reading a book?”
Diesel stared at her as if he were trying to gauge whether she was joking or serious, then he smiled and shook his head no.
“Doesn’t it get to be too much?” she asked.
“Sometimes, yeah. If I’m not feeling it, I go for a ride or come to my room. I’ll even go to Ruthie’s for dinner by myself if I want to get away. We all respect each other’s space.” He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the bed. “Is it getting to be too much for you?”
“A little. I’m used to a bit of partying and a lot of quiet time—just the opposite of here. When Freddy started his pain clinics, I was alone most of the time. He was gone all day and sometimes didn’t get home until ten or eleven at night.”
“That must’ve sucked,” he said, tugging his T-shirt over his head.
Mesmerized by how Diesel’s back muscles flexed and his biceps bulged, she couldn’t speak but only watch. The tattoo sleeve on his right arm seemed to dance with every movement he made. He tossed the shirt toward the bed, missed it, then bent over to pick it up. At that point, she couldn’t tear her gaze away even if she wanted to. His flat stomach tensed as he lifted the shirt and threw it into a hamper in the corner of the room next to the closet.
When she pried her eyes away, he slightly smirked. She flushed with embarrassment that he’d caught her checking him out.
“I’m gonna take a shower, then we’ll go out for some food,” he said, shooting her a wink.
Myla sat there in silence, abhorred by how she gawked at her boyfriend’s brother. What’s wrong with me? Her last conversation with Freddy echoed through her brain. He still doesn’t trust me. He brought up Allan again. All this crap is happening, and he’s back to accusing me of cheating on him. It’s like that is justification for hurting me. She walked over to one of the open windows and breathed in the scent of blooming wildflowers.
The sky was still a vibrant blue, and the green leaves on the towering oak trees swayed in the light breeze. Down below, Myla spotted several men wearing leather jackets and black jeans leaning against their motorcycles like black crows huddled together. Their loud voices wafted up through the open windows. A couple of women in short skirts and makeup so glaring that Myla could see it from her vantage point sashayed toward the men, teetering on high heels. One woman sidled up to a long-haired biker, who tangled his hand in her long tresses and kissed her deeply.
“Anything interesting going on out there?” Diesel’s deep voice pulled her away from the scene below.
“Not really. Just a few of your friends with their girlfriends.”
“Girlfriends? Lemme see.”
He strode over to the window and stood beside her. The clean scent of his freshly washed skin embraced her, and the ends of his dark hair, still damp from the shower, curled slightly over the collar of a gray shirt.
Diesel laughed. “Those women aren’t girlfriends; they’re party girls. They come to a lot of the Insurgent parties. The one who’s wrapped around my brother, Helm, keeps trying to get him to go out with her outside of the club.” He turned away and ran a hand through his wavy hair. “That’s not gonna happen.”
Myla glanced down again. “Why not?”
“For one thing, Helm isn’t into dating, and for another, they’re party girls.”
“Party girls can’t date?”
He shuffled over to the closet, pulled out black biker boots, and slipped them on. “Yeah, they can date, but most bikers don’t get involved with them outside parties.” He stood up straight and flashed a smile at her. “You ready to go?”
“Almost.” She dashed into the bathroom, brushed her hair, and swiped pink gloss across her lips. “Ready,” she said, walking out into the room.
Diesel’s eyes swept over her figure, then landed on her face. There was something seductive in his look, and before she could process it, he turned away and crossed over to the door.
Casting her gaze downward, Myla slung her purse strap over her shoulder and walked out of the room.
“Stay close to me,” he said as they descended the stairs. “They’ll be some dudes here that are with another club.”
“Should I be scared?” She joked.
He stopped so suddenly that she ran into him. Squinting, he replied, “Yeah. Stick with me.” He grasped her hand and led her into the great room without another word.
The air inside was thick with smoke and noise. The lights were so dim that Myla could barely see a few feet in front of her. The pervasive smell of weed floated throughout the room, making her stomach roil a bit.