is off the charts. I’ve never felt more at ease being with someone than I do when I’m with Nycto. We’ve fallen into a relaxed rhythm already. It’s like we’ve known each other for years, not just over a month.
It’s also funny how being involved with Nycto tends to give me mad respect from everyone else here in the club. If I ask for something, I get it right away and without hesitation. They don’t need to bend over backward for me, but they do, anyway. Is it because Nycto told them all to do it? Or is just what happens when you’re kind of seeing a president of the Royal Bastards MC?
Nycto didn’t tell me he wants them to treat me special, but they do. It’s like I’m somehow the queen of this clubhouse. I have to admit, it feels fucking good.
This past month, I’ve been trying to spend as much time as I can with each member—brothers, club girls, a couple of the ol’ ladies of the older members. I’m making my way around to everyone. If I’m going to be here for the long haul, I need to make friends with them all.
Ivy, on the other hand, has been keeping more to herself downstairs. I visit her all the time. She does come up and talk to people, but she isn’t as social as I am, which is the complete opposite to how she was in Cuba. I’m not sure if she does not fit in here like I do, or what’s keeping her away, but I need to figure it out. If she’s not happy, then I need to find a way to fix it.
Heading downstairs into the Bricking Room, the chill I always get when I walk in shivers over my spine. How she lives down here, I’ll never know. Making my way to the Brick Cell, I pull the wall back. She’s sitting with the laptop Void got her, watching some kind of video on the screen.
She giggles, her eyes shift up, and she waves at me. “Eva, come look at this. It’s so cool!”
The brightness on her face instantly has me enthused. I round the table, then sit next to her, looking at the screen. A giant pimple comes on, and suddenly someone’s bursting it. The liquid oozes everywhere making me scrunch my face up in revulsion. “Whoa, that was a good one,” Ivy gushes.
My stomach rolls as I yank her laptop closed, pulling a sour face. “You’re disgusting.”
“You know there’s an actual television show dedicated to popping pimples? The doctor on it is so cute. She’s one of those people you just wanna squeeze ‘cause they’re so adorable.”
“It’s official, you have too much time on your hands. Ivy, you need to get out of this…” I wave my hands around, “… cell and come upstairs more.”
She pouts. “I like it down here.”
Turning to face her more, it’s time to get serious. “Why? Do you not like everyone up there? Is there something you’re not telling me?”
Her eyes widen in shock. “Oh, fuck, no, of course, I do. I love the guys and the club girls. They’ve made me feel so at home it’s not fun—”
“Then what is it, Ivy? Why would you stay down here? It’s so… so creepy.”
She shrugs. “In Cuba, I was basically like a socialite. Having to be this outgoing and fun person to fit in with my crowd of friends, to fit into this mold they all wanted me to be. Here, I can actually be me. I can stay down here and be a loner, or I come up there and hang with everyone. They’re okay to let me be me, and I love them for it. They don’t force me to be anything but myself, so I’m taking it and running with it. Please don’t be the one to stop me from being who I really am, Eva.”
My head jerks back in shock. “I had no idea. I thought you loved going out partying, hanging with all your friends in Cuba?”
“I had pigeonholed myself into being a person I hated, a person they all thought I should be. I hated my life in Cuba, Eva. I love being at this club. I love my space down here. I have since they rescued us from the boat. You probably don’t understand, but please try.”
I shrug. “Okay… I get it…” I pause, thinking back on something she said. “Since they rescued us from the boat?”
Her eyes go as