I consider it again when we pull up to the gate of the Saint’s Outlaws MC clubhouse. I’ve driven by it before and I’ve heard a lot of stories about this place. I tried to ignore the rumors and the whispers about the club because I know those kinds of stories can be blown out of proportion.
The only fair way to assess anyone is by getting to know them. Even then, people can hide who they really are.
Like Sylvester.
I swallow hard and try to get my racing heart under control. I hardly look at whoever is at the gate to let us in. They didn’t come to the window considering they see Opal here all the time.
By the time we pull up near the front door, which is covered in the club’s logo like a warning before stepping into hell, my palms are clammy and I’m convinced I’m going to throw up.
“Graycie,” Opal snaps and I turn my head and look at her, but my vision starts to tunnel. She claps in front of my face, and I rear back and suck in a sharp breath. “That’s it. Snap out of it. Take deep breaths.” She nods toward the warehouse and my gaze drifts back in that direction. “There isn’t a place in this world where you will be safer. The guys here are gruff and they sure as fuck can be crude and loud, but they have big, soft hearts and they respect women.”
“I think there’s a story there about their mamas,” I try and tease her, but my words are flatter than I intend.
Opal is all smiles as she winks at me. “Exactly! If any of their mamas found out that they weren’t respectful of a woman, they’d get an ass whoopin’ for sure.”
“Good to know I can threaten them with something,” I grumble.
“No need to threaten,” her voice is far too bright, “most of their moms will be here today. Come on, you aren’t going to get less scared by sitting in the car.”
When I step out, my legs are shaky and fear tries to take me to the ground. But I force myself to stand a little taller.
Opal has told me a lot of stories about the club. Some were funny, some were sweet, and some were violent. But I found,when she told me about any violence the club committed, it was warranted.
Tell them about Sylvester.
I push the thought away because the last thing I want to do is get these guys involved with someone like him. If this club, which Opal clearly loves, was put in danger because of me, I don’t know what I’d do. Opal is the first real friend I’ve had in so long.
It’s not like I never had friends. I used to. Before. My life looked a lot different before.
Before I listened to my parents.
Before I let Sylvester in my life.
Before I was so damn weak that I gave him the power to rule my life and lost myself.
I blow out a breath, my voice small, as we approach the door, “How long do we have to stay?”
Opal freezes and turns toward me with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on her face. “We can leave whenever you want to leave. If someone makes you feel uncomfortable, I want to know about it. If you want to leave, tell me, but you have to really give it a try. Okay?”
She’s looking at me earnestly and, as much as I want to tell her to get me out of here now, I don’t have the heart. “Okay.” She’s looking at me with concern on her face but now is not the time for that. I grumble, “Might as well give me the five-cent tour.”
Opal giggles and pulls me into the clubhouse and I’m unable to put up much of a fight. There’d be no point even if I did; Opalwas beyond determined today. Every other time she tried to get me to go to the clubhouse, I put my foot down and she respected it.
I knew my luck was running out.
Can I do this for my friend?
Fuck, I hope so.
My heart is pounding in my chest when we step inside. There are a few men in leather cuts, which is what Opal told me they’re called, but I barely look at them. I can feel them looking at me though.
When Opal grabs my hand, I practically jump out of my skin. “You’re safe,” she whispers, making sure I’m the only one who can hear her.
I think I nod, but I’m not entirely sure as she gives my hand a squeeze. I almost cringe because I know that shit is wet. She doesn’t say anything as she drags me through the large room which is clearly used for hanging out. There are some couches, a bar, pool tables, a foosball table, and some standup arcade games.
Just before she reaches for a door which, presumably, leads to the backyard, Opal pauses and gives my hand a squeeze. When she looks at me, the seriousness in her eyes pulls me back from the edge I was teetering on between my past and my present.
I’ve been trying to stay in the now. Because not everyone is like Sylvester. I’ve been helped on this journey by so many people. The good in the world has found me when I needed it the most; it’s undeniable.