Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79137 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
We walked out into the cold, across the lot and onto the street where the women were waiting outside the car- one seemingly innocuous unit that only a select few insiders knew were actually some of the fiercest women in the state.
Lo's face hardened slightly, taking in the damage to Bethany's face. Alex's eyes flashed. But it was always Janie you could count on to speak first.
"I'm gonna get my hands on you," she informed her as she took the box from her hands, "and I am going to make sure you are trained enough for you to make sure that no one can ever do that to you again."
She would too.
That was the girls club.
It didn't matter that Bethany was new, a practical stranger.
It didn't matter that they didn't know the details of the situation.
They would just be there for her.
And because they all came from bad situations at some time or another, they would raise her up, build her confidence with everything from Krav Maga to shooting to fucking losing a tail.
I had never given it much thought before, simply thinking they were a great group of badass women who kept my brothers happy, but watching Lo and Janie and Alex talk to her about how they whipped Penny into shape in a matter of weeks, I was overwhelmingly grateful they were a part of my life and could, by extension, be a part of hers.
She had been so alone in the world, had no one to help raise her up since her mother died. And whether she would admit it aloud to me or not, it did something to her, it allowed her to believe she wasn't worthy of being raised up.
The girls club would take that insane notion and completely wipe it from her person in a way I wasn't sure even I could accomplish, no matter how I tried.
After all, when enough people started telling you you were good enough, you would eventually start to believe it yourself.
She was going to be a self-assured 'badass bitch' in no fucking time if they had anything to say about it. Which they would. Because they were a bunch of loudmouths.
"Alright," Lo said, slamming the trunk door. "We will meet you back at the compound to drop this stuff off and bring our men home with us."
With that, they filed in, peeled off, and left us to walk to my bike and climb on.
"Is it weird that the tiny little slip of a woman kind of intimidates me more than her husband?" she asked as she threw a leg over the bike, making me let out an appreciative laugh.
"I think that is just as it should be," I said, turning the bike over and driving off.
I wasn't worried per say about Reign. No, our club was not a democracy, but that didn't mean we didn't have free will. From the stories I heard, back when they were all falling in love, Cash and Wolf went off on their own to handle some big bads themselves. Was Reign maybe happy with those decisions? No. But had he understood the necessity of it? Sure.
Granted, Cash and Wolf were his brother and oldest friend and I was just some lowly probate, but I was pretty sure the same rules would apply.
Or maybe I was out on my ass.
Either way.
The girls were already inside when we got there, leaving me to take Bethany's hand in mine, giving it a squeeze, sensing the hesitation in her every step, like maybe she was picking up on the fact that I was not fully at ease either.
We walked into the usual loud, but contained wildness of the clubhouse. Reign, Cash, Wolf, Duke, Repo, and Renny were all by the bar, sharing drinks, looking road-weary and ready to go home and spend the night with their women.
Edison, Pagan, Cyrus, and Reeve were all in the sitting area, also sharing some beers, just bullshitting. I could hear the women in the kitchen, Alex and Janie insisting that Lo was making the coffee 'too weak' and Lo, tone exasperated insisting that not everyone 'likes their coffee the consistency of toxic sludge'.
At the sound of the door closing though, all eyes in the common room fell on us. Sensing the heaviness in their gazes, Bethany moved to take a step in retreat, but was held in place by my hand.
It was Edison, not surprisingly, who moved first.
Every inch of his body was tightly coiled, his dark eyes unfathomable. Anyone who knew Edison knew he hated one thing in life- men raising their hands to women. If there was history there that made him that way, none of us knew. But he got his kicks beating the shit out of pimps who roughed up their working girls or assholes in bars who got too rough with their girlfriends.