by Renee, K.
Listening to Jase talk to Sabrina was awkward. I wonder if that’s his girlfriend. God, I shouldn’t be wondering anything about him. Sure, he is a tall and very handsome man, but he doesn’t belong to me, and I will probably never be a blip on his radar.
I’m plain and average. While he is as hot as they come, with a side of badassness oozing from his pores. I’m pretty sure he is the very definition of sexy badass that everyone is always talking about in books.
When he’s done with his phone call, he tosses the phone on the coffee table, and then turns his attention towards me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wait for him to speak.
“I had to claim you as my ole’ lady in order to get you under the protection of the club.” I can feel my eyes bulge out of my head. He claimed me? What in the hell does that even mean? I go to say something, but I can’t get the words out. Please, oh please don’t tell me that I have to be his whore or whatever.
“Chill sugar. It’s nothing bad. In my world it means the same thing as wife,” he breathes.
“Your wife?” I screech.
He nods his head and shrugs his shoulders. “It was that, or let you fend for yourself with that bastard,” he states like he’s doing me a favor. Men, I swear!
“One of those men said something about rules…” I say trailing off. I’m not even sure what kind of rules there are in whatever little club they are in.
He chuckles before grabbing the remote off the coffee table. Well I’m glad I can amuse him. I for one, don’t think any of this is amusing. It’s turning into a weird nightmare. I’m tempted to say that I’ll be fine since I’ve been on the run for a while now and he still hasn’t gotten me, but then I think about the close calls already. I don’t know how many more lucky breaks I’ll get when he catches up to me.
“Yeah there are rules. Don’t ask questions about club business. Don’t disrespect my brothers. Never talk in public about any of us, and don’t make me look bad.” He says like it’s the most logical thing I’ve ever heard before. Club business? Brothers? How many could one man have? Don’t talk about them? Making him look bad? Seriously?
This man is crazy! I’m not even sure I want to know him, let alone talk about him to people I don’t know.
Before I can say anything in response to his list of rules, the door swings open, and a beautiful brunette comes walking in the door. Her tight leather pants mold to her perfect legs, and her cut off shirt shows her flat stomach. She closes the door behind her, and tosses a bag on the coffee table. Her eyes land on me, and I can see her trying to figure out who I am.
Instead of sticking around for whatever is going to go down between them, I grab the bag off the coffee table, and make a beeline for the bathroom in Jase’s bedroom.
“Who the hell is she?” The woman asks, when Jase doesn’t say anything to her.
“My ole’ lady,” he replies, like its old news or something.
“You have an ole’ lady?” she shrieks. I close the bathroom door, and try to block out their conversation. I don’t want to have any part in whatever they have going on.
Grabbing the box out of the bag, I read the instructions, and start to mix the two bottles together. Shit. I’ve never done this before and I’m not even sure I’m putting the right stuff in the container.
Looking at the box, I take in the sight of the girl’s hair color. It’s like a red color that is going to probably make me look funny. I’ve always had really white blonde hair, and this color is a huge change.
I can still hear the girl going on and on about how she deserves to be his ole’ lady, and not some little girl that he found in the street.
Breaking the end off of the bottle, I pull the gloves on. I start to spread the red dye stuff all over my scalp, and through my long hair. After a few minutes, I don’t hear very much yelling, so maybe they finally made up.
Looking in the mirror, it looks like I was stabbed in the head with a sharp object, and my head is bleeding profusely. Walking into the bedroom, I check the time, and start a count down. Twenty minutes with this stuff is going to seem like a lifetime.
Walking back into the bathroom, I take a seat on the toilet, and wait for the time to go by slowly. Ten minutes in, I hear a door slam, and Jase muttering.
“Holy fuck that bitch is crazy sometimes,” he mutters when he comes into the bathroom. He stops and looks at me before shaking his head. “That’s a fucking bright color,” he says staring at my head.
“Yeah, I should thank your girlfriend for that one,” I state pissed off. Couldn’t she of picked a natural looking color?
“She’s not my girlfriend. I don’t do girlfriends. Just fuck buddies.” He eyes burn into me and I’m not sure how to respond. He is everything that Shawn wasn’t. Shawn was sweet and loving, while Jase is brooding and dangerous.
I watch him walk back out of the bathroom and throw himself on the bed. Walking to the doorway, I ask him all the questions that have been floating around in my head since he said he claimed me.
“What is your club?” I ask eyeing him.
He laughs out loud, and then turns his head to look at me. “Sugar, we are a motorcycle club.”
“Like the Sons of Anarchy?” I say before I can stop myself. He gets a shit-eating grin on his face, and he shakes his head in amusement.
“Yeah sugar, just like that.” I can’t tell if he is serious or not. He watches me for a minute before he looks over towards the bedroom door.
“What do you mean by brothers?” I ask meekly.
His head turns towards me, and he responds without hesitation. “My brothers by blood and by the club. Every patched member is considered a brother, but I also have three blood brothers, and my father in the club too.” Oh my god. I can’t believe their father would let them join something like this.
“Your mom doesn’t mind that you are all in this club together?” I can tell he’s getting annoyed with my questions, but I need to know what I have gotten myself into.
“Nah, she loves the club just as much as my old man does. It’s in our blood.”
Instead of asking him any more questions, I go into the bathroom to rinse out my hair. I grab a dark towel off the rack so I don’t stain a light one with the dye, and make my way over to the tub.
Once I get the water to a warm temperature, I stick my head under the stream, and watch the water turn a bright red color. After running water through my hair until there is no more color coming from my head, I apply some conditioner stuff from the box, and rinse it once more.
Once I’m done, I turn the water off, and wrap the towel around my head. Drying my hair the best I can with the towel, I go and grab the brush out of my bag. Walking past the bed, I see Jase lying there with his eyes closed. I wonder what he’s thinking.
Grabbing my bag, I make my way back to the bathroom, and brush out my new red hair.
Before I even notice he’s moved, he is standing behind me with a blow dryer in his hand. “Here. Riding with wet hair will probably suck,” he whispers in my ear. Taking the blow dryer from him, I just lamely nod my head, and he walks back out the door without another look.
Spending the next fifteen minutes blow drying and trying to tame my hair, I see that it doesn’t look all that bad after all. Sure I don’t look anything like I used to, but I guess that was the point of this.
“Hey Jase?” I yell out.
“Yeah?” he responds, sounding like he’s in the kitchen. “Do you have any scissors?” I ask making my way towards his voice. When I get to the kitchen, he has them in his hand, waving them at me. Grabbing them from him, I make my way back into the bathroom, and get ready to make the biggest change to my hair that I have ever done before.
All my life I have had long white blonde hair, and today is the day that it changes. I am just hoping that it’s enough to keep Saxton from figuring out who I am.
Taking a chunk of my hair, I slowly start to cut it to my shoulders. Chunk by chunk, I continue the cuts until I think that it loo
ks straight. I’m sure it isn’t, but I’m not really worried about it right this minute.
I hear booted footsteps coming towards me, and when I look up, I see Jase standing there with a shocked expression.
He must hate my hair. Running my hands over it, I try to flatten it or something so he stops staring at me. He walks over to me and grabs my hands, bringing them to my sides.
“Sugar, chill. It looks good. You just missed a spot. Hand me the scissors.” His voice is soft and sweet, which catches me by surprise.
Handing him the scissors, I hold my breath, and wait for him to cut my hair. After a few seconds, he sets the scissors on the counter, and then leans into my back.
“You look fucking hot as a red head,” his breath tickles my neck and I get the chills. Looking into the mirror, I see him staring at me with a lustful look. Gulping, I just mutter a quiet thank you, and pull away from him.
“Okay, I’m ready for whatever happens next,” I mumble nervously.
He gets a grin on his face, and puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me into the living room. He tosses me a sweatshirt, and tells me to put it on before we head outside. Doing as I’m told, I grab my bag, and make my way out into the hot Nevada weather.
Chapter Five
Damn, I never expected that little blonde to look that fucking hot with that shorter red hair. Fuck. God, I need to get my fucking head on straight. This isn’t going to happen. I am only trying to help her, not fuck her.
When she’s finally ready, we make our way outside into the Nevada sun. I had her put on my sweatshirt to mask her clothes, and I kind of feel bad because of how fucking hot it is outside.
Checking our surroundings, I don’t see that fucking moron anywhere in the vicinity. Leading her over to my bike, I get on, and motion for her to hop on. She looks at my bike with a scared expression. So I reach my hand out for her to grab on to, and help her throw her leg over the bike.
“You good?” I ask looking over my shoulder at her. She lets out a meek yes, and I hand her my helmet. Waiting for her to pull it on and adjust it, I pull out my phone and call Bash.
“Yeah,” he groans out when he answers. “Hey fuck head, I’m on my way, is Pops there at the club house?” I hear some bitch moaning in the background, so I try and ignore her.
“Yeah I think…” he trails off and grunts something to her. Without even finishing what I needed to talk to him about, I hang up the phone and slide it back in my pocket.
Once she’s ready, I tell her to hold on tight, and to lean with me around corners. She nods her head nervously, and her grip around my waist is on the verge of white knuckling.
Taking off, I feel her fingers digging into my stomach. She is terrified, and it’s a nice change of pace.
After a few minutes of having her fingernails dig into my skin, she loosens her grip a fraction. When we finally pull up to the clubhouse, I park my bike, and help her off before dismounting myself. Her hands go to the back of my jeans as she looks around the compound.
I know this place scares a lot of people who aren’t used to it, but I think she will fit in just fine around here. If she’s brave enough to run from that Saxton asshole and break into my apartment, she will have what it takes to deal with these fuckers.
Grabbing her hand, I pull her with me, and make our way inside the clubhouse. “Welcome to the home of the Wayward Saints sugar,” I drawl out watching her expression. Her eyes take in all of the memorabilia and photos of all our current and previous members.
There are a few people milling around the clubhouse, but mainly prospects and whores. A few of the whores look up and start to come towards me, but when they see Wynter they stop dead in their tracks. Turning to Wynter, I motion for her to take a seat at the bar.
Without a word, she sits down, and continues to look around at everything on the wall behind the bar. Leaning into her ear I whisper, “You know you can take the sweatshirt off now.” I watch the heat creep up her neck and into her cheeks, and I can’t help but smile.
She takes off the sweatshirt, just as my old man comes into the room. When he sees me, he makes his way over to us.
“Hey kid,” he grumbles. He pulls up a stool next to Wynter, and looks her up and down. “Who’s this?” he asks, nodding his head towards her.
“This Pops is Wynter.” He nods his head in greeting to her, and she just smiles at him. “I thought I heard you had a blonde with you at…” he trails off, thinking that maybe he’s telling her something she doesn't know.
Wynter giggles and I see my old man raise an eyebrow at her. “I dyed my hair before we came here,” she squeaks out.
My old man looks at me and just shakes his head. “So she’s the one you’re getting in over your head with?” he mumbles.
“Let me guess, B told you all about what happened this morning already,” I say waving a prospect down.
“Prospect, can you get Wynter and me a couple of waters?” Hendrix nods his head, and walks towards the kitchen in the back.
“Yeah kid,” he grumbles. I hear a few of the whores greet Prez, and I look up and see him making his way towards the back room.
“Jase, Nick. Church now,” he states with authority.
My old man gets up and makes his way to church, while I continue to sit and think about the shit I’m getting myself into. Looking at Wynter, I can see that she is nervous about whatever is about to happen. Leaning into her, I whisper in her ear, “I’ll be back. Club business.”
Looking into her eyes, I see understanding. She nods her head and looks behind me to see them waiting for me at the door. She puts her hands on my stomach, and gives me a small push. “Alright, don't listen to any of the whores, and if any of the men touch you, scream.”
Her face drops and her eyes widen. “Really?” she asks meekly, looking around the room.
Smiling, I nod my head and turn to walk towards church.
Walking over to my prez and vice prez, I know shit is about to get a whole hell of a lot more complicated for me.
Closing the door behind me, I wait for Prez, and my old man to take their seats before I take mine.
“Kid, what the fuck are the thinking?” Prez asks with a deadly stare. I knew they would be pissed about me bringing this problem in our laps, but I wasn't expecting this.
“I was fucking thinking that this girl needed someone to help her. You guys taught us to protect women, and that’s what I’m doing,” I grit out. They are always all about women, until someone wants to help someone outside of the club.
“Fuck Jase. You don’t even know this girl,” Prez mutters.
“Yeah, I fucking know that I don’t even know her, but I still won’t let anyone touch her. She deserves to be protected just as much as any of the ole’ ladies do,” I state, bracing my hands on the table. I can feel my anger getting the better of me, and I know it won’t go well for me if I go off on either of them.
“Bash said that you claimed the girl.” My old man pipes up after Prez and I stare at each other for a few silent minutes. I can see the anger starting to flare in his eyes, and my old man is trying to bring the peace between us.
“Yeah I claimed her. It’s the only fucking way to keep her protected apparently,” I yell, pushing away from the table. They both watch me intently, but I don't give a fuck.
“Enough,” Prez growls, clearly agitated.
Taking my seat, I wait for him to speak. “Why does she need protection?” he asks rubbing his temples.
“Saxon Meyers threatened to kill her. I’ve heard a little about him before, but I did a little research on him while she was dying and cutting her hair. He’s a bad dude who's mixed up with a few of the top guys in kidnapping and selling women,” I state.
“How did you even meet her?” my old man asks from beside Prez.
Tapping my fingers on the table, I look up at both of them, and start to explain how I met Wynter.
“When I went to my apartment this morning, I noticed that the door was crac
ked open. Grabbing my gun from the back of my jeans, I scoped the place, but didn't find anything. After locking up, I got in the shower, and when I got out I came face to face with that girl out there. I have no fucking idea how she even got in, but I know she is in trouble and I want to help her. Everyone deserves someone on their side.”
They both sit there in silence for a few moments, not even blinking or making a sound.
“How the fuck did that little girl get into your place without you knowing?” my old man asks.
“No idea. I haven't had the chance to really ask her about it,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. They surprise me when they ask me to bring her inside the church.
Getting up, I make my way out of church, and over to where Wynter is sitting with a few of my brothers standing around her. Watching them for a second, I feel a sting of jealously when Robbie runs a finger down her cheek. Making my way to them, I grab Robbie’s shoulder. I pull him away from her.
He turns and gives me a dirty look. “What the fuck J?” he growls, pushing me away from him.
Getting right in his face, I lean in and whisper, “Stay the fuck away from her.”
Robbie raises his hands, and walks away shaking his head. Wynter watches me with a questioning look, but doesn't say a word. Reaching out my hand, I wait for her to take it.
She looks from my eyes to my hand and back again, before she takes it. Pulling her up and off the barstool, I lead her to our church doors.
Before we walk through the door, I stop her. “You are about to talk to the president and vice president of the club. Whatever you do, don't lie to them.”
She looks nervous, but she nods her head, and squares her shoulders before walking inside.
Chapter Six
When Jase said that I had to talk with the president and the vice president, I almost had a panic attack. What do they want to talk to me about? Oh god, what if they don't want to help me? Taking a few deep breaths, I square my shoulders, and make my way into the room that they have been in for the last ten minutes.
