Unbeloved (Undeniable #4)(45)
My brow furrowed. “What does Cox and Kami’s relationship have to do with you feeling sick?”
“Yeah,” Eva added. “And since when do you care about what the boys do?”
“Since this happened,” she said, flipping us both off. Eva and I both leaned forward for a better look. Seated on her middle finger was rather extravagant diamond.
“Congratulations!” Eva exclaimed with a jump and a clap. “When did that happen?”
“Last night,” she said blandly. “Damn thing don’t fit the right finger either.”
Well, that explained the walk of shame. They must have had a very celebratory night together. And knowing Bucket as well as I did, celebrations for him usually consisted of a harem of women with Christina barking out the orders.
“It’s easy to get it sized,” I suggested.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s a pain in my ass. But back to my point. I don’t appreciate these little mutts sniffing out the club for our men. I told Bucket, no more girls now that we’re engaged.”
She seemed so happy—well, as happy as Christina could seem—that I just didn’t have the heart to tell her that nobody ever sought out Bucket. His haggard appearance and his lack of cleanliness meant all his girls were usually bought and paid for. Dirty, another club member, had been the same way before his girlfriend, Ellie, had inspired a makeover, and together he, Bucket, and Freebird were three of the most unappealing men I’d ever met. Unkempt, ungroomed, usually filthy, and always acting or saying something absolutely disgusting.
“That girl out there is spouting off to Cox about taking her out to dinner, and going home to meet her parents. Seriously, D, go look at this shit. She’s all up on him like a f*cking fat little dog in heat, and I’m about to go slap her down. I’m a legit old lady now, and if I ever catch her sniffin’ round my man . . .” Trailing off, Christina pursed her lipstick-smeared lips and waved a razor-sharp red fingernail in the air. “No. Just no. She needs to know her place and fast.”
“Ugh,” Eva muttered. “I’m not in the mood to be schooling club rats with their eyes on the prize.”
“But isn’t that your job?” I jested. “God knows you don’t have better things to be doing like being a mother or a wife or . . .”
“Right?” she said. “Because in my free time I love teaching loose women the ways of the club world, the dos and don’ts when it comes to our men. Rule number one: Don’t flirt in front of the wife. Rule number two: Don’t try to go down on him in front of the wife. Rule number three: Definitely don’t cry in front of the wife when he tells you not to go down on him in front of his wife.”
There was a time in my life when the bitter truth of Eva’s remarks would have offended me, probably to the point of tears even. But I was anything but offended; after all, crudeness aside, it was the truth and I’d lived that truth.
“I’ll talk to her,” I said with a sigh. “What’s her name?”
“Lucy,” Christina offered. “Just like her vag. Which is why Cox is always f*ckin’ her up the ass. And speaking of ass, I gotta take a shit.” Using the table for support, she pushed herself up from her chair and tottered for a moment on her heels before regaining her balance.
“Way too much information, Christina,” I muttered, walking quickly from the kitchen. “Way, way, way too much information.”
I found Cox sitting at the bar among a few of the other boys: Chips, Worm, and Danny D. And Lucy was right where Christina had said she’d be: hanging off Cox.
As I headed toward them, I noted the similarities between Lucy and me when I’d first started coming to the club. She was young, early twenties, and shorter than average, as were her looks. If she didn’t have so much makeup on, if her dark hair weren’t cut so dramatically, she would undoubtedly appear plain, cute at best. And she was clinging to a married man she had absolutely no chance at having a substantial relationship with outside of meaningless sex, gazing up at him like he was everything she’d ever wanted, ever dreamed of finding in a man, and could do no wrong.
Cox. Do no wrong. Good God, what was wrong with this girl?
It was all so painfully familiar. The closer I drew to the bar, an odd feeling washed over me, a sense of déjà vu, and then all at once I was struck with a memory . . .
? ? ?
“Wat up, little D?” Ripper had greeted me with a grin, holding his arm out in welcome.
Although I had still been feeling the sting of rejection from earlier, the same feeling I was always left with when Jase went home to his wife, I had slipped into Ripper’s embrace and felt my anxiety begin to ebb. The club, the boys, they had that effect on me, giving me a sense of comfort and safety when the rest of my world was nothing but turmoil.
“Nothing’s up,” I had said, returning his hug. How could I not? He was so incredibly good looking. He was young, with long blond hair that had a touch of waviness, flawless golden skin molded tightly over an incredible bone structure, and an equally stunning body.
“Where’s my hug, bitch?” Cox called out. Ripper’s partner in both crime and humor gestured for me to come to him. Currently shirtless, his heavily tattooed and pierced body on display, the handsome Latino waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. “Last time I hugged you, you grabbed my ass.”