“No. I never see him act sexually with anyone.”
“He’s been very well behaved since you arrived, but he wasn’t celibate before. Want me to tell you how he is in bed?” she asks, with a devious light to her blue eyes.
“No. I’d rather it be a shocking surprise.”
Amity smiles softly. “Topanga slapped you,” she says, caressing my cheek.
When I first moved in with Amity, I hadn’t known what to make of how affectionate she was to me. I’d never had anyone touch me like she did without expecting to fuck. Jena explained Amity grew up without boundaries. Suffering a childhood without owning her body definitely explains why Amity often cries at night.
“I wish I did everything differently,” I share with a girl I barely know yet am already attached to. “But I messed up when I first got here, and I never knew how to fix it. Like could I just walk up to Lowell and admit what my mom said? Or should I go to his house so it’d be more private? In the end, Lowell wouldn’t have been happy no matter how it went down.”
“Lowell doesn’t like people to notice him,” Amity explains while still holding my hand. “Bronco steals all the attention. Then, Anders arrived, and he’s gigantic. While people see the boss and the titan, Lowell hides in the background, keeping score. Also, his old lady draws all the attention away from him normally. Tonight, he probably felt on display.”
“I can’t blame him for being upset.”
Stroking my hand, Amity shrugs. “He’s the one with the power. Seems like he might be in a better position to be the better person.”
I smile and admit, “I used to imagine him hugging me when he found out. Like he was upset over missing out by not knowing me.”
“How come your mom never told him?” Amity asks as her blue eyes study my face as if once again memorizing every feature.
“Needy told another bunny that she was pregnant. Nothing about who the baby’s dad might be. That girl ran to one of the old ladies who threatened Mom. Also, Needy heard about another girl who got pregnant and was disappeared by the club. She decided not to stick around and push her luck.”
Amity studies the black coffee table as if she’s looking for clues. “I heard that story, too. Messy Bessie was a slob with big tits who hooked up with the club when they were first founded. I’ve heard versions where she was Rooster’s favorite and others where she was Akron’s. When she got pregnant, she thought the baby daddy would protect her. In some versions, the old ladies killed Bessie, and the men didn’t know. In others, the Executioners killed Bessie,” she explains and then adds, “Who would have threatened Needy? This was before Topanga. Lowell never had any other wives, so the old lady wasn’t his.”
“I don’t know. My mom kept her secrets,” I say, sounding too defensive. “Her parents beat the crap out of her. She ran from problems and threats. I mean, that wasn’t dumb, right? You’re not supposed to stick around when there’s trouble. So, when the old ladies threatened her, she got scared and ran away. I bet she planned to come back when I was born, but things get complicated. Like returning with a baby to a place where she no longer belonged probably seemed dangerous.”
Amity presses my hand against her cheek. “If I got pregnant, I’d be scared. I know that Bronco raised his daughters, and he didn’t punish their mothers. But there’s a lot of pressure not to be a drain on the club. And Bronco was also single when he knocked up those bunnies and then Lana. On an average day, I’m more scared of the old ladies than the club guys. So, I understand why your mom left. And why you were scared to speak up. People lash out without thinking. And these aren’t regular people. They can disappear troublemakers.”
Amity sets my hand on my lap and then strokes my head. “And it’s not like we can complain. We aren’t here to whine. We exist to party and be fun. In exchange, we get a nice apartment rent-free and good-paying jobs. Like I waitressed before starting here, and I never made what I do at Rooster’s. So, I’m not complaining.”
Amity’s troubled expression bothers me. She thinks I might rat her out. My rutting nature insists I make nice with those around me. I can do what I’m told as long as no one fucks with me too much. In every situation, I try to adjust to my surroundings.
And in my new life, Amity is my closest friend. Not only because we share an apartment. I like how silly she gets when stoned and the way she always asks if I need anything when she goes to the kitchen. Some of the girls find her clingy, but Amity charmed me quickly. That’s why I reassure her by cuddling closer.
“I like it in Elko. Living here with you and waitressing, it’s comfortable. I probably wouldn’t have said anything for months if Topanga hadn’t forced the issue.”
Reassured that I’m not bothered by her earlier warning about the club’s rules, she relaxes again.
“I worry about when I get too old,” Amity shares. “I’m not smart like Jena. I can’t be anyone’s assistant or manage stuff. Besides, she’s already doing that job. What happens to me once my time as a bunny is up? Other girls get married. A few ended up as honeys. I’m just going to end up alone. I can’t even get a cat because I’m allergic.”
I don’t know why Amity is dumping all this on me right now. She’s normally upbeat. That’s why her nighttime sobbing moments initially startled me. She’s a sweet background girl who gets along with people but never makes a strong impression.
“You won’t be alone because you’re beautiful,” I say, not really thinking of a good answer. “Beautiful women have more options.”
“But I’ll be old.”
“How old?”
“Thirty.”
“That’s not old for normal people. For bunnies and strippers and shit, sure, but normal people aren’t old at thirty. You’ll have money saved up, and you’ll find a guy who thinks you’re hot. Then, you won’t be alone. And maybe you can get a bird or a dog or something.”
Amity grins, making her freckled nose crinkle. “Even if Lowell isn’t happy, Conor was holding your hand in the elevator. I’ve never seen him act like that with a girl. You know, like he’s dating. He knows you’re special even if Lowell doesn’t.”
Her words hit me in just the right spot. Smiling like a fool, I say, “Conor and I are going out to lunch tomorrow. Or maybe dinner. I just know we’re getting sandwiches.”
Amity’s expression shifts so radically that I flinch at the switch. “His mom is nuts. Not just wacky, but really crazy. It runs in the Parrish family. That’s what killed Conor’s grandmother. She thought someone was chasing her, so she started driving wildly to get away. The poor thing slammed into a tree or wall or something. But no one was even chasing her. Barbie isn’t that bad, but Conor is always making sure she’s okay. I see him at club functions, keeping an eye on her. Almost like he’s the parent, not her. It’s really sweet.”
Despite smiling at the thought of Conor’s protective nature, I wonder if his mother is the real reason he’s drawn to me. Is train wreck the only kind of love he knows?
CONOR