Page 99 of Ridin’ Dirty

“Haze—”

Before Viv could say a word, Hazel slid off her seat and walked around the bar. We all watched as she grabbed a bottle of tequila and poured a couple fingers in her cup. Satisfied, she returned the bottle, snatched up her drink, and went to find different company across the room.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s just jealous,” insisted Viv.

“Jealous? Of me?”

“She and Rooster have been together nearly a decade,” Sofia began to explain. “They’ve had their ups and downs, like every couple does. Right now, they happen to be down.”

I turned to peer over my shoulder, looking for Rooster. It didn’t take me long to find him. When I did, Hazel’s words sounded in my head like an echo.

‘Look around…he’ll have his pick.’

Her man was sitting in a leather armchair, beer in hand, eyes trained on the topless woman putting on a show for him. He wasn’t touching her. Not yet, anyway—but I guessed it was only a matter of time.

I looked away and spotted Cherry. She was on her knees, her redhead bobbing as she worked another man’s cock. I didn’t want them to, but memories from my wedding night rushed to the forefront of my mind.

This time, it was Riley’s voice I heard in my head.

‘You’re gonna have to let that one go.’

Much as I didn’t want it to be true, that was easier said than done—but forgiving Riley had proven to be easier than forgiving myself.

Turning away from the scene, I faced the bar, suddenly feeling both sorry and sick.

Sorry for Hazel and sick over myself.

My remorse was fed knowing it was women like me with whom ol’ ladies like her were forced to compete. At least, women like I used to be.

I often wondered who I’d be now if not for Carmy. His presence was a looming warning. Our history a constant threat. But now, it wasn’t just my brother and the complicated nature of our relationship that influenced who I was becoming.

Lyla Wells.

I was someone’s wife.

In my wildest dreams, I was on the cusp of having everything I ever wanted.

Except, confronted with Hazel’s reality, I wasn’t sure if I had the right to be this happy.

Tugging my eyebrows together, I shifted my gaze down into my lap, the ache of my guilt and shame gnawing at my insides.

The guilt came with admitting I was no better than any of the club whores in the room—a truth I’d managed to keep to myself all these years. It didn’t matter that I’d fallen for a Stallion before. It didn’t matter that I would have done anything for him to make me his. In the Gillette clubhouse, I was a plaything.

The shame came with the knowledge that I always offered myself willingly.

No rules.

No boundaries.

No regrets.

It was reckless. Sometimes heartless. Often stupid.

And now that I found myself on the other side, I was beginning to understand it wasn’t as liberating as I once believed.

“I’m going to go check on her. I’ll be right back.”

I watched Sofia hop off her seat, her compassion beckoning her across the room. She wasn’t gone but a breath before Vivienne was at my side.