He carries me upstairs and lays me on our bed.
Our bed.
It sounds so weird, even saying it in my head, but makes me totally happy.
"Let me get you something to change into."
I fall back onto the pillow. With the soft cotton on my back and Cutter near me, I've never felt better. My eyes close and I take a deep breath through my nose.
***
I open my eyes to a pitch black room. As I sit up slowly I feel the beginnings of a headache and have a terrible case of cotton mouth. The clothes I'm wearing are different to what I wore last night. Cutter got me changed?
The clock reads almost four in the morning. Jesus, how long have I been asleep?
Cutter is beside me as I slowly slip out of bed. Heading downstairs for a bottle of water I see most of the people are gone, a few are passed out on the couches and chairs. The main room is completely trashed. Bottles, cups, and plates scatter all of the surfaces. The floor gleams with spots that I know I'd stick to if I treaded on them. People are passed out on the couches, chairs, and a couple girls are lying across the pool table. The kitchen is much the same. I grab a bottle of water, guzzling almost the whole thing in one drink.
"Well, I didn't see you around tonight."
A guy I've never seen before leans against the doorway. Judging by his jacket, he must be a brother; although, his doesn't have the same logo as the other guys. "You look like the perfect end to my night." The words aren't much but the meaning behind them is obvious enough. He takes a few steps toward me and my heart starts to race.
"Sorry, I-"
"Don't you know the rules, girl?" His hand grips my arm as his alcohol-soaked breath invades my nose. "You ain't allowed to refuse a brother."
He tugs me against him and I slap at him with my palms, pulling back even as his fingers bite into my skin, needing to get the hell out of here. My hand connects with his face, catching him off guard for long enough for me to start running for the stairs.
But it's not enough.
He catches me by my hair and swings me around. My scalp burns and I scream. Then my face is on fire as his hand smacks me across the cheek, knocking me to the ground.
"How'd you like it, huh? Pres really needs to teach you whores the rules." He walks closer to me. Suddenly he isn't a stranger. In front of my eyes, he morphs into Dylan. Every inch of me fills with fear as he towers over me. So I do the only thing I know how to. The only thing I'm good at.
I close my eyes and brace my body for the blow.
"She isn't a whore." My breath leaves me when I open my eyes to find Nikki standing there. She's holding a kitchen towel in her hand, cleaning a glass. I don't think I've ever been so pleased to see someone. She nods at me. "That there is Cutter's old lady."
"Then why ain't she wearing a patch?" His eyes are fixed on me, running me over, making me feel dirty.
"Because she's new to this"-her eyes swing to me-"and a damn idiot. There are some club girls in the lobby, go find one of them."
The atmosphere is tense. Despite their calm words, Nikki and the man seem to be challenging each other through their glares. Neither will look away. Eventually, Nikki shrugs her shoulders. "That, or I can just call Cutter to help us figure this out."
He walks away mumbling curses the entire time.
Just the mention of Cutter's name and the blood drains from the guy's face. His eyes go wide as he looks me up and down once more. "You're Cutter's girl?"
Words sit on my tongue but won't come out. I nod.
"Fuck me," he says, waving off Nikki, making his way out of the kitchen, presumably to the lobby. Nikki watches him walk away before coming to stand over me, offering a hand up. I take it, all the while wondering what kind of reputation Cutter must have for the guy to react like that.
"Girl, you really need to understand how shit goes here. You're out here, wear your damn patch. You don't, that ass of yours is up for grabs. Most brothers don't take kindly to girls denying them, mainly 'cause it ain't allowed."
She takes the kitchen towel and wets it, handing it to me. The gesture confuses me. I press it to my lip, wincing when it stings, and as I pull the towel away, blood stains the white material. I dab gently at the cut, wondering how I'll explain it to Cutter.
The kitchen is quiet. The whole club is quiet. So when Nikki speaks, her voice rings through the air as if she's shouting. "I know you didn't ask for my opinion, but I'm gonna give it. I've been around here longer than most so I figure that entitles me to have my say. What you do next is your call. Way I see it, you got two choices." She offers me her hand and helps me up. When she's sure I'm listening, she continues, nodding her head back toward my room. "You can go upstairs and tell your man what happened. Cutter may be an officer, but so is that asshole. If Cutter goes after him and causes bad blood between the two clubs, the club will punish him. And I mean bad. And all because you weren't wearing your patch. You'll be in the wrong, and he'll pay for it."