Ride Steady (Chaos, #3)(31)

That also didn’t embarrass me.

It didn’t make sense either. I didn’t find anything funny.

“Why don’t you take her to your room, Joke?” one of the guys suggested.

“Yes, let’s go there,” I agreed.

There was a truncated guffaw, which was truncated when I looked to the man who was emitting it. He pressed his lips together, but the minute he did, his eyes got huge, like biting back his humor was going to make his head explode.

“Hall,” Joker said and I looked to him.

“Sorry?”

He was off his stool and jerking his head toward the back. “My room’s off the hall.”

“Right,” I said shortly, straightened my shoulders, and I very well might have flipped my ponytail as I whipped around and marched to the door that Joker had come out of yesterday. I did this not knowing that my marching had a lot of bounce associated with it. But I felt the eyes, so I did it very much knowing they all followed.

I made it to the doorway and heard Joker direct, “Left.”

I went left.

“Stop,” he ordered when I was two doors down from the end.

It wasn’t surprising it was a long hall considering it was a long building. But it was surprising the number of doors off it.

I stood outside one that was open and peered in.

It wasn’t big, it wasn’t tiny.

What it was was filthy.

I swallowed.

I sensed Joker close and looked to see he was standing on the opposite side of the door waving an arm toward the room.

I marched in.

He came in after me.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked as I was turning and saw he was closing the door.

“Your room needs to be cleaned,” I announced.

“What?” he asked.

“Your room,” I threw out an arm, “it needs to be cleaned.”

“I’ll get my maids on that,” he muttered, then asked, “Is that why you needed to speak in private?”

I shook my head, restraightened my shoulders, and declared, “I have a new tranny.”

His brows shot together. “Say again?”

I jerked a thumb to myself. “I have a new tranny.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“A new transmission.”

“Know what a tranny is,” he stated.

“I have one,” I told him.

“Know that too. We don’t deal with Tercels but the boys got a lock on one, loaded it up in yours last night.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Why?” he parroted.

“Yes,” I snapped. “Why?’

“’Cause you needed one.”

“I’m sure I did,” I retorted. “That still doesn’t explain why I have one.” Before he could say anything, I added, “A free one.”

He leaned slightly back while crossing his arms on his chest.

It was then I noticed his chest was rather well-defined—as could be seen through his tight, black T-shirt—and his arms were even more well-defined. The biceps bulged and his forearms were all sinewy.

“You got a couple grand to lay down on a new transmission?” he asked and my gaze shot from its sudden rapt contemplation of his arms to his eyes.

“If I had a couple thousand dollars to lay down, as you put it, on a new transmission, I’d buy a new car,” I returned.

“And that would be a good call,” he muttered.

I ignored that. “But at this moment I don’t need a new car since I have a new transmission, new tires, new wipers, an oil change, it’s a far sight cleaner than this room and smells like pine.”

“What? Did you want new car smell?” he asked and I stared.

Then I cried, “No! I didn’t want my car detailed. For free.”

He shook his head. “I don’t get your problem, Butterfly.”

I ignored the nickname, which was definitely cute and made me feel nice, and declared, “I’m not a charity case, Joker.”

“I know that,” he returned.

“Then why do I have a spick-and-span car that runs better than when I bought it and a new attorney that’s taking my case through retainer with the Chaos Motorcycle Gang?”

“Club.”

“Sorry?”

“We’re a club, not a gang.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Absolutely.”

I shut my mouth since his answer was so firm, it was granite.

He didn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Listen, you might have an idea about bikers. And in some cases, that idea would be on the mark. In the case of Chaos, boys here, they don’t like women to get jacked around by *s. You lose it in our common room when you’re gettin’ jacked around by an *, and a kid’s involved, then their old ladies take your back, they’re gonna wade in. The Club waded in. That means you got people lookin’ after you. My advice, don’t bounce in here with your attitude and get shitty about it. Let ’em do it. You fight it, they’ll still do it and you’ll lose the face you’re tryin’ right now to save because you’ll have no choice but to give in.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I declared.