“That all you were sharin’?”
“Yes,” she hissed, finally moving toward them.
When she got within arm’s reach, Shade’s hand snaked out and grabbed her bicep. “Don’t be the reason someone’s colors get stripped. Wanna be part of this, you gotta play by the rules.”
She jerked her arm out of his grip. “It’s not my rule.”
“No, but it’s the club’s. Which means, if someone touches you, shit’s gonna get ugly for that brother.”
“I know what it means.”
“Then gotta do your part discouragin’ anyone with two eyeballs and a dick from doin’ somethin’ stupid. Ain’t a game, Reilly.”
“I know,” she hissed.
Chelle couldn’t tell if Reilly was now upset or even angrier. Either way, the other woman rushed away, heading toward The Barn.
“What was that about?” Chelle whispered once Shade pulled her into a nearby room and secured the door behind them.
“She’s hot and unclaimed and anyone wantin’ a taste is playin’ with fire. Don’t wanna see any of my brothers get born.”
“I think you mean burned.”
Shade squeezed his eyes shut. “Fuck. Burned.”
The situation with Reilly had been enough to mess with his head and screw up his words. Reilly might believe he was being harsh, but Chelle, as a mother, saw it for what it was. Concern. “You care about your brothers.”
His eyes opened slowly. “Yeah.”
“You also care about her.” Reilly might not see it as such because she was young, but what happened between them in the hallway was now clear to Chelle.
“She’s family, too.”
Chelle pressed her lips together at his answer and nodded. She turned in a circle, taking in the small room she now stood in. “Everyone from Dutch’s garage is here today.”
“Yeah.”
“I had no idea they were all a part of your club.”
He frowned. “Why would you?”
She shrugged. While she was sure it wasn’t a secret, no one would know unless the men were seen around town wearing the club’s colors. Every time she had been at Dutch’s, the guys had worn typical mechanic’s coveralls over their clothes.
“Since Reilly isn’t allowed to be touched by any of your brothers—without serious consequences, anyway—then I assume she’s not the same as Crystal or Angel?”
“Nope. Reilly’s Reilly.”
Well, that was as clear as mud. “What does that mean?”
“She makes her own way. And thinks she can do whatever the fuck she wants.”
“So, some women in the club who are part of your ‘other women’ label don’t have to get on their knees.” She turned and focused her attention on him where he leaned back against the closed door with arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look happy with her conclusion.
“Chelle, nobody’s gotta get on their knees. There are big doors on this fuckin’ barn, any of them could walk outta them at any time. If one of them decides to suck Dutch’s dick, it’s because she wants to.”
“She could say no?”
He didn’t answer. Chelle didn’t like that silence.
“She can’t say no,” she concluded.
“She can say no to bein’ a sweet butt. That’s where the line’s drawn.”
A sweet butt. Now she remembered that as one of the terms she skimmed over. Not quite as unpleasant as patch whore, but not much better, either.
“Basically, to remain a part of the club, a sweet butt,” she wasn’t comfortable with that name at all, “has to be willing to do whatever with whomever.” Probably whenever and wherever, too. Like in a hallway when the building was full of people.
“She can say no to takin’ abuse, ‘cause that shit ain’t tolerated here. The guys are aware of what each sweet butt likes and don’t like. They respect that. They’re in the mood for somethin’ specific one night, they pick the girl who’s into the same. She ain’t into it, they don’t force her. Doin’ what they’re only willin’ to do keeps the sweet butts loyal to the club and keeps them comin’ back.”
Chelle wasn’t sure what to think about that information. She would definitely do more research on MCs as soon as she got a chance.
“Now, that’s more fuckin’ shit than I shoulda told you. But I get you hadta hear it. It settle your mind?”
Did it? Chelle wasn’t certain. Maybe if she didn’t know Angel and Crystal. But she knew them since they wore pigtails, and not for the reason Angel wore pigtails today.
“Chelle.” He pushed off the door, stepped close to cup her cheek, making her look up at him. “They didn’t wanna be here, they wouldn’t be. Like you. You’re here ‘cause you wanna be. Or did ‘til you got some shockers. They know what they’re gettin’ into before they get into it. And, remember, the doors swing both fuckin’ ways.”
He had spoken very slowly, like he normally did when he wanted to get every word correct. Because on this point every word was important and he wanted Chelle to understand.
She did and she didn’t.