Bullet: Devil's Rose MC #5

Chapter 32: Piper Bardot

"No, my darling Bee. I'm cutting you off."

"You don't love me anymore."

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm cutting you off because I love you. You're already going to have a massive hangover tomorrow."

"Whatever, I'll just ask Nick."

"Oh, no, Beatrice. I'm smarter than that."

She's like a kid trying to ask the other parent to do something or get something for her when the other parent already said no. I like her style, but the execution is just all wrong. It astounds me that even though these MC members - I'm going to clarify and say men because that's more accurate - are surrounded by alcohol, none of them are drunk. 

They are in and out of this bar all day long for reasons ranging from needing food to planning the takedown of large, violent, and illegal organizations. However, there has not been one instant in my time of being here, before and after I had cancer, that I have ever seen these men drunk. With the ladies, it happens a lot. 

I mean, every single lady in here besides me is drunk but not one man. Due to my hopeless romantic status, I like to believe they don't get drunk to protect the women; the more logical answer is that they might be called to duty at any point and need to be ready for it.

I, however, am never going to be an official member, meaning I'm not technically a prospect, and I can drown myself in alcohol. It's not that I'm needing an escape, Mason's dick does a pretty awesome job of providing an escape, but I'm frustrated. 

I'm frustrated that Mason and I can't be open about our relationship and the love we have for one another. I'm frustrated that I can't be a prospect or official member of the Devil's Rose MC. I'm frustrated that my cancer treatments have made me weak. I'm frustrated that I got cancer in the first place.

So, yeah, I'm going to drink without any inhibitions because I can.

"Can I have a shot of tequila, please?"

"Sure, coming right up."

"Make that two! Just for me to drink with Piper and that'll be it," Beatrice shouts drunkenly.

Whiskey sighs but obliges her demand, forcing eye contact with her to make sure she knows that's one hundred percent her last drink.

It most certainly was not.

Beatrice, Fiona, Dakota, Persephone, and I all stumble around the bar, singing "Dancing Queen" by ABBA. Persephone crashes into a chair and giggles as we all tip to one side while dancing our way to a booth. 

My skin is sticky with sweat, making it disgusting to sit on the booth cushion, but I'm too drunk to care. 

We gossip about town politics, like how there's this new cafe but they are taking customers away from the cupcake shop (there's a whole thing happening), which actors are the most handsome (women included), and most importantly, the Tank and Hazel thing. 

I think I have only seen the woman walking down the street once, but I didn't even have the chance to talk to her. She looks like kind of a hard ass, not that it's an issue, it's just my first impression.

Tears of laughter gather in my eyes at Dakota's drunk impression of Poison. They are a hilarious couple. They both have this streak of pure silliness along with protectiveness for one another that is just a funny balance. 

They can make fun of each other as much as they want - for the most part - and neither one of them gets angry about it, but when someone makes fun of their partner, they don't stand for it and instantly start yelling. It reminds me of the "too gay to function" thing from Mean Girls.