Zero Regret (Lost Kings MC 13)

I turn to say something, but he’s already stalking toward the back door. No one’s looking my way so I’m not sure if anyone else saw what he did or not.

Still shaking, I continue into the living room. A group of girls waits for me. Oh, joy.

At least I recognize a few. Serena gives me a friendly smile as I approach. “Where do you want us to start?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“What do you need, Lilly?” Bonnie asks.

What does the rest of the clubhouse need? Besides a cleaning crew with a tub full of bleach. Or a blow torch.

“I’m not sure. General straightening up, I guess?”

“Condoms,” a girl they call Josey says. She seems to be the brashest one. The kind who came early to stake out a man, not marinate some steaks. “The guys prefer easy access to them if they don’t want to leave and go find a room. At the one outside Portland, they keep bowls in every room. Z should do that here.”

Oh no she didn’t mention Z’s name. “‘Easy access’, is that what the guys call you?” I ask sweetly.

“It should be.” Her friend, Sasha giggles and digs through her purse. She flings a handful of condoms in Josey’s face and they both laugh.

So, basically they’re making more of a mess for me to clean up.

I glare at them, then shift my gaze to the condoms scattered on the floor. Sasha kneels down to scoop them up while apologizing.

At least one of them knows I’m not fucking around.

Serena leans into me and says in a low voice, “Josey isn’t a regular here. She’s not usually helpful when she visits. She hangs out at different charters until someone’s old lady kicks her out and then she moves on to the next.”

“Fantastic,” I mutter. “Just what I need.”

Josey eyes me up and down, then shoots a glare at Charlotte over by the bar. “Are old ladies leaving after they set up this party?” She crosses her arms over her chest and lowers her voice to a soft purr. “I was hoping to get reacquainted with Z now that he’s here full-time.”

This bitch.

My anger spikes off the chart, but I somehow manage to hang onto my cool and not rip off Josey’s head. “Since I’m Z’s old lady, you better readjust your plans.”

She feigns surprise by slapping her palm to her mouth. “Sorry, Lilly,” she says, not sounding one bit sorry. “It’s just, you know, Z’s a real generous guy.”

Sasha’s gaze skitters between Josey and me. “You know how it is,” she says in a wobbly voice.

I cut her off before she continues. “No. Enlighten me.”

“Well,” Josey says, speaking to me as if I’m slow, “usually the old ladies go home where they belong so everyone else can have a good time.”

Sasha bobs her head up and down as if her friend just offered me some helpful information.

I’m way too old for this nonsense. “Is that right?”

Josey ignores the deadly calm in my voice. “Yeah, and Z’s always been fun to party with. I don’t think—”

I step forward, pleased I tower over this tart by quite a bit. “You’re not as clever as you think, bitch. I’m aware the ‘women who’ve fucked Z club’ isn’t an exclusive organization. If you need a commemorative patch to help you reminisce about the good ol’ days, I’ll order it up.”

“Huh?”

See, I knew that was too many words. “Z’s mine. That clear enough for you?”

Josey narrows her eyes as if she’s considering challenging me. When I don’t back down, she shrugs. “A brother comes to me, I ain’t turning him down. Not my problem if he’s saddled himself with some nag.”

I refuse to be drawn into a catfight with this twit. She’s not worth the effort.

Next to me, Serena shakes her head. “I told you.”

“Oh, shut up, Serena,” Josey snaps. “You’ve fucked almost every brother between here and upstate, but I don’t see your skanky ass wearing a patch.”

Serena’s cheeks turn red and, feeling protective of her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “If you’re not here to help, then you need to leave.” I pin Sasha and Josey with a hard stare so they understand I mean business.

Sasha takes a few steps away from her friend. “I want to help out, Lilly.”

“Fuck that. I ain’t a damn maid.” Josey flails her arms around, narrowly missing scratching Sasha’s cheek with her long, dagger-esque nails.

In case she forgot the way out, I point to the door. “Don’t let it hit your ass on the way out, sweetheart.”

She stomps off in her ridiculous lumberjack-meets-stripper boots and hits the door so hard one of her fake nails snaps and flies into the air, landing on the floor with a sad little clatter.

Shaking my head, I turn to the rest of the girls. “Anyone else have some smartass remarks for me?”

The girls blink and shake their heads. A few murmur “no.”

“Questions?” I search their blank faces. No one pipes up. I take Serena aside. “What usually needs to be done before a party?”

“The bar is the most important.” She scans the large entry room that’s basically set up like a living room. Couches, chairs, a few tables, two big screen televisions, and a ratty, almost threadbare carpet fills the space. This seems to be the central location for most of the parties.

Serena taps her finger against her bottom lip and shifts her gaze. “Josey was being a bitch, but they do usually set out bowls of condoms.”

Of course they do.

“No glove, no love, right?” I joke.

Serena stares at me for a second before laughing. “Maybe we can hang that over the door.”

I nod to one of the signs hanging above the couch that I never paid much attention to before. A garish black and gold one that reads, Before you bag her, sheath your dagger!

Good god, what have I gotten myself into?

I end up writing down a list of tasks for Serena to hand out to the girls. Yes, one of them is “go buy condoms”. There better be a petty cash fund around here because I sure as fuck am not paying for that out of my purse.

“Any questions?” I ask the girls.

No one answers.

“Good. Serena has the list of things we need done around here before the party. If you have questions, ask her. If you need an assignment, let her know. If you think of anything we haven’t covered, come find me.”

Serena stares at me with her big, pretty blue doll eyes. “Are you sure about this, Lilly?”

“I trust you. Unless, you don’t want—”

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.”

“Thank you.” I leave her and make my way over to Charlotte at the bar.

She slow claps and grins at me as I approach. “Very nice. You’ll be a boss bitch biker’s ol’ lady in no time, Lilly.”

I give her a love-shove, almost knocking her off her barstool, and she laughs even harder.

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“What the fuck?”

She’s still laughing and I contemplate shoving her again. She wags her finger at me and sputters out, “Don't be a fool, cover your tool.”

“Oh, shut up. Seriously, I don’t remember bowls of condoms all over upstate.”

“In the champagne room and probably some of the guest rooms upstairs…The bathrooms…Yup, upstate’s as dirty as downstate. We’re just a whole lot classier.”

I snort and tap her glass. “You get into the liquor while you were putting it away?”

“This is seltzer.” She lifts her chin. “That mouthy one coming back?”

“God, I hope not.” I pick at the napkin in front of me, shredding it into pieces. “How the hell does Hope stand this?”

Charlotte sips her drink and sets it down before answering. “I don’t think she does. From what I understand, Trinity’s always been in charge of the clubhouse.”

“No, I mean the girls that just have to let you know—”

“Oh, the former bunnies. Gotcha. I’m pretty sure Rock banished every single one who gave Hope lip.”

“Ugh, that doesn’t help. Those two are from out of town anyway.”

She glances down and taps her nails against her glass a few times. “Teller’s mentioned that Z was out on the road a lot more than most of the guys over the last few years.”

I open my mouth to respond, then think better of it. Z’s hinted he spent lots of time on the road after I left.

Because of me. Because I left.

Karma just loves finding new and creative ways to bite me in the ass, doesn’t it?

Chapter Twenty-Five

Lilly

After another day of grilling, swimming, and spending the whole day with the kids, we came to the clubhouse for this party.

It’s not busy yet. A few brothers mill around at the bar. A few girls I recognize buzzing around. The music is at a more comfortable level for conversation to flow.

Z pulls me over to the couch in the corner of the room. His usual spot where he can see everyone entering and leaving the entire area.

“You still feeling okay, Teller?” I ask in a low voice when he drops down next to me.