Page 28 of Savior
“Converted.” Dean grins as I roll my eyes at his little pun, then shoves one of the heavy doors open. He steps inside, leading me through the threshold… And holy wow…
“They’ve certainly done some remodeling.”
The place looks like a high-end strip club mixed with an arcade and a pool hall. The stone walls really add to the man-cave type atmosphere of the old place. The rock music is loud, and I can feel the base thumping in my chest cavity. There are purple lights shinning from the floor up to the cathedral ceilings along the walls. A large tapestry depicting the JoCo Jokers’ MC logo, a skull wearing a three-pointed purple jester’s hat, hangs from the center wall of the huge open space. There are purple couches arranged in multiple seating areas, centered around shinny chrome stripper poles that reflect the purple lighting. Big screen TVs on a few of the walls as well. I avert my eyes from those however, as they’re all playing a porno with two women and a guy.
There’s a large marble water fountain in the grand entryway. It’s packed with ice and every kind of soft drink and beer one could want. Many of the women walking around are all dressed in spiked heels, leather bikinis and fishnets, the Jokers MC logo on their breasts and bottoms. I’m guessing since this seems to be their party uniform, that they’re sweetbutts, and not Old Ladies.
“Damn… I was hoping they’d have bitches wrestling in Jell-O or some shit this time.” Viking grumbles next to me, shaking his head with disappointment at the fountain-turned-party-cooler. I try not to gawk at him, but on second thought, I can picture something like that happening here.
“Took their prospects hours to scrub the stain that left out of the marble.” Dean chuckles.
“You guys should have your wedding reception here.” Viking grins at me, then laughs as my expression must clearly display my adamant objection to that idea.
Dean laughs along with him for a moment, then tugs my hand to follow him further into the clubhouse. He introduces me around to a handful of ranking members of both the JoCo Jokers and the Asphalt Knights. Some of whom I met previously at the Twisted Throttle, when we threw his Birthday party back in November. And though they all look more than a little rough around the edges, they’re very polite. For the most part. If one doesn’t take the primal stares into account.
Slice, the one with the scar down the left side of his face, wearing a cut declaring him the President of the Jokers, grins slyly at Dean, before he shifts his focus to me.
“Are we going to get a repeat of that little belly dance you gave your man last time I saw you?” he asks, cocking his head to the side, gesturing towards one of the seating areas with an available stripper pole. “Maybe after a few drinks, Dean will loosen up enough to let you give us all a show. Moves like that, baby...” He licks his bottom lip, then rolls it in, biting it as his stubbled jaw slides forward. Looking me up and down, his hands rubbing together, he adds, “Bet you could really tear up a stripper pole.”
Dean laughs, though I can clearly hear it’s without a shred of humor. I glance nervously up at him to find that fierce smile, sharp as a razor, across his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes. His grip on my hand tightens as well, and I reach over with my free hand to stroke his tense arm, hoping to calm him down.
Slice bursts out laughing, reaching out to slap the side of Dean’s other arm. “I’m fucking with you, you psychotic prick.”
Dean’s grip on me loosens, only slightly. He’s still wearing that deadly expression as he coolly replies, “And people call me, crazy. Was about to tear up the other side of your face. Even out those scars for you.”
Slice lets out another roar of laughter at Dean’s not so subtle threat. “Fuckin’ prick. Let’s save our blood shedding for the CDMC.” He says. “No pussy is worth going to war over.”
Dean lifts my hand and presses it to his lips, the corners of his mouth curling upward. “That’s debatable.” He says, so smoothly.
Slice snaps his fingers at the brunette sweetbutt standing near us, and suddenly she’s beside me, draping an arm across my back and trying to put a lit joint to my mouth. I recognize her from Dean’s Birthday party as well. Though, she didn’t say much to me that night.
Viking snatches the joint from her hand, pulling it out of my face and to his lips. “She doesn’t smoke.” He says, almost protectively, then pulls a drag for himself, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. She turns from him and reaches up to the zipper of my leather jacket, tugging it down, all the while looking at Dean. I glance up at him, but he’s gone stoic, watching her. She’s grinning deviously at him, and I wonder what this is all about.
“Don’t you have a tub of Jell-O somewhere to roll around in?” Viking nearly snaps at her this time.
“No, asshole.” She says. “That shit stains our skin. We’ve got Orbeez this time.”
“The fuck is Orbeez?” Viking asks, still scowling at her.
“The fuck are Orbeez, you Barbarian.” She corrects him. “Come out back with Vanna and I, and I’ll show you.”
“Later.” Slice interrupts. “You girls go out back. Show Vanna the VIP area for the wives and girlfriends. We’ve got shit to discuss before we officially get this party going.” Slice says, cocking his chin dismissively at us women-folk now. I look up at Dean, who’s still hard eyeing the girl beside me. I glance at her in time to see her wink at him, before she takes my hand and tries to lead me away from his side.
“I’ll come, too!” the other brunette girl standing near our group, whom I remember being called Trippy, says. For some reason, the tension in Dean’s body lessons to a slight degree. She walks over to me, practically shooing the black haired one they call Mary Jane away, as she takes my hand instead. She smiles sweetly at me, then Dean. He seems much more at ease about sending me off with Trippy.
“I’ll find you when we’re done.” Dean says, bending to kiss me.
I allow Trippy to lead me towards the converted convent’s double back doors, glancing back in time to watch Dean, Viking and Viper, follow Slice and a few of his guys down a corridor on the opposite side of the large room.
The back patio is made of large, square marble slabs, trimmed grass growing between them, like I’ve seen in fancy home magazines. There are a few fire pits going as well. The really cool kind, with the blue glass that reminds me of the kind of sorcery you see in movies. There are MC guys gathered around them as well. Bikers with women in their laps, or dancing around them to the music playing over the sound system. There’s another large fountain out here, filled with the rainbow colored Orbeez Mary Jane was telling Viking about. And sure enough, there are half naked girls wrestling in them.
A stage is set up on the lawn at the edge of the patio with a band getting ready to play. Guys wearing Prospect cuts doing most of the work. Near the stage, there’s another seating area, with lush purple velvet, half circle couches that don’t look meant for the outdoors. They’ve even got their own mini bar and glass, purple underlit tables in there with them. I spot Rosita and Cherry, among a group of other women, wearing far more clothing in comparison to the women grinding up on the guys hanging out back here. That must be the Old Lady VIP area, with front row seats to whatever band is going to be playing soon.
“Can I bring you anything before I go back inside?” Trippy asks, escorting me towards the purple velvet ropes. Her question catches me off guard. I thought she was going to stay with me. And I guess she can read it on my face. We stop walking before we get to the ropes. “I’m not an untouchable.” She shrugs. “I have to be invited.” She seems almost sad about it.
“What do you mean?”
“Some of the wives… they don’t care much for us club whores.”
