have a rock in my hand, or there might be more than hurt feelings and a few bruises tonight.
ANDERS
Turning this group birthday party into a “Meet Anders’s Honey” party was a bullshit idea. My club brothers have no interest in meeting Pixie. But because their wives are nosy, Pixie has to wear a dress and shoes that don’t fit right. Plus, she’s wearing makeup and styling her hair to look like someone else. Pixie is my flower child, which is why she loves me when no one else can.
Now, people are twisting Pixie into just another beautiful woman. I don’t want someone else. Why can’t they leave us alone?
The only good part of this stupid fucking party is Pixie’s reaction to new foods. She opens her mouth for me as I feed her. Her eyes are so bright when she bites into the foods she likes. They get very wide when she realizes something tastes awful. Learning stuff about each other is what I want for us. Not to be put on display for people who won’t be won over.
Not that Pixie is trying very hard to woo my club brothers and their honeys. She mumbles hello, nods, smiles, and then focuses on me. Back at Bronco’s place, she was much friendlier. Pixie is worse at hiding her disinterest than I am.
I made a mistake letting her drink so much wine. Pixie’s body isn’t used to booze. When she takes even a few hits from a joint, she instantly gets relaxed and a little silly. No way can she handle two glasses of wine.
“You only have to stay another thirty minutes,” Bronco says once Pixie ends up sick in the restroom. “I can see how uncomfortable she is. I also plan to use your exit as an excuse to bail.”
No doubt, Bronco is edgy about leaving Fairuza alone with his girls. Summer could likely take the older woman in a fight. While Pixie’s mom is tough, she’s underfed. Yeah, the biker princess should have no trouble kicking Fairuza’s ass.
I scan the room, taking in the faces of the men and women I’ve known for three years. Most of them barely know me, and I certainly don’t know them. Yet, never before did I resent these people. I kept to myself, stayed quiet, and let others lead. I never pretended to believe they might care about me. Deep inside, I knew they looked at me and saw a man who turned against his club before. Why wouldn’t I do it again?
Maybe I should leave the Woodlands. I have money saved up. Pixie, her family, and I could move away and start over. No expectations or disappointing people.
Except I swore to myself that I would protect Bronco. If I break that promise, I’m just as disloyal as everyone expects me to be. As long as he’s president, I can’t walk away from the Executioners.
My head swims from too many beers and a whole lot of second-guessing. I finally ask Topanga if she’ll check on Pixie. Lana goes, too. I imagine Pixie throwing up all the food I encouraged her to eat. However, the blame for the wine is on Topanga. Her solution to anxious women is to fill them with high-end booze.
Lowell sighs. “Why is everyone so fucking tense tonight?”
“Because this was supposed to be a birthday party that got turned into something else,” Wyatt grumbles from nearby.
“Nobody asked you, asshole.”
Wyatt turns toward the club’s VP as if ready to take him on. Lowell doesn’t even glance back. For months, they’ve poked at each other more often. I never say anything when it happens, keeping my gaze instead focused elsewhere while the men argue. I know the score, though.
Bronco wants to fuck with Wyatt, and Wyatt wants to fuck with Bronco. They can’t really get into it, though. Not with the younger man’s mommy and daddy always around. So, Wyatt and Lowell fight instead.
I really don’t care. They’ll throw punches on occasion. Never enough for Bronco to tell me to break them up. I view their bickering as play fighting. Wyatt is practicing for the day when he takes on Bronco. I still don’t know how I’ll stand by and allow the younger man to claim this club. More likely, I’ll snap his skinny neck and let Bronco punish me for it later.
Desperate to remain buzzed so I can hide how miserable I feel, I finish another beer. Should I check on Pixie? Can I just walk into the ladies’ room? With