Page 47 of Riding Dirty

She is smiling and loving this, loving every damn second of it, and I want to slap her right across her fat head. I don’t, though. Because none of this shit should matter to me at all whatsoever, even though it really does.

“Does it matter?” I ask.

There is a brief moment of silence, then she laughs softly as she pushes off the doorjamb and takes a few steps toward me, her hands falling from her chest. Her tits are bare and far too close to me. I wish I could push her away. I don’t know this woman, but I can already tell that I do not like her.

“It does if you want to be with Wrath,” she murmurs.

“Why would you being a club girl or whatever matter?” I ask.

I’m pretty sure I should not ask this question at all whatsoever, but the words came out anyway, and now I’m staring at her, waiting for her to break my entire fucking heart with it. Because I’m pretty sure the way she’s smiling at me, she knows that’s what she’s going to do.

“Because you’re going to have to accept the fact that when he’s here, we fuck or he fucks some of the other girls, but regardless, he fucks.”

“What?” I gasp.

“This is a Vegas lifestyle. Don’t ask, don’t tell. Whatever happens here, stays here, and that includes everything. Every single thing.”

I already hate this girl, and I don’t know anything about her. I want to slap the shit out of her. I don’t do it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to, because I very much do.

“Good for you,” I grind out.

Taking a step to the side, I begin to walk past her. She calls out to me, but I ignore her. I don’t care what she has to say, because it’s only going to make me feel worse. And I already feel bad enough as it is.

I walk down to the end of the hall so I can get started on the bedrooms, all the while trying to forget that woman and her naked boobs and her amazing body. How on earth does Coast go from her to me and want me?

He didn’t. He used me. I was a conquest of sorts, but I can’t even figure out why or how, because I’m not special. I don’t look like her or any of the other women walking around this place.

And clearly, I couldn’t hold his attention either, because he came running right back here. Even though I haven’t seen him, I know that’s exactly what he did.

God.

I’m pathetic.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-EIGHT

WRATH

As much as I want to stay at the clubhouse and fuck Elodie, I am swamped this week, especially with all the new drama with Chassis. And the fact that Dare is now saying he’s going to claim her, I can’t wrap my head around any of it. Dare is the president of the club. This isn’t something he has to do.

Glancing down at my watch, I let out a groan. Elodie is probably cleaning the clubhouse right now, but I’m here with Cake and Dare—in Prescott. We left last night after Dare announced he would be taking Chassis as his woman.

Standing in the middle of the bar at the original chapter’s clubhouse, I look around and realize that we need to step up our game. Not only is this place a hell of a lot nicer than ours when it comes to furniture, but the shit all over the walls is better, too.

They have club memorabilia everywhere. Original patches and cuts that are no longer in use, including the very first cut, are framed and hanging on the wall with a light above them to highlight what they are.

We need to up our game.

Cake is still good and pissed that Chassis uploaded all her shit onto the internet, seemingly really fucking proud of the mess she’s got herself into. And maybe she’s in love with this guy, but he is definitely not in love with her, and if he is, it’s only out of happenstance, because I can’t imagine it started out innocently, not with who he is and what he wants.

“Thanks for coming with me. I know you’ve got shit to do with that big job this weekend,” Dare murmurs as Cake storms off to deal with his daughter before he brings her out here. No doubt he’ll have to drag the girl out by her hair. I can’t imagine she’s going to come willingly.

“Fuck,” a voice hisses from across the room.

Turning my head, I look over to see Piston, Cake’s oldest kid, making his way toward us. He jerks his chin, his lips twitching into a smirk as he closes the distance between us. He juts out his hand, shaking mine first, then Dare’s, before he shoves it in his pocket and rocks back on his booted heels.

“My dad did it, huh? Which one of you got roped into dealing with Chass?” he asks.