“Don’t be afraid to get a little messy, chère,” she chuckles, pushing a stray lock of spiky white hair out of her face with her wrist.
“Who knew cooking could be such a contact sport?” I joke, wiping flour off my cheek.
I drop another piece of dough into the bubbling oil, watching it transform into a golden pillow of sweetness. The kitchen feels like a sanctuary compared to the tension that’s been coiling around the clubhouse.
Babet glances at me, her brown eyes twinkling.“How’re you holding up since that spat with Jolene?” Her voice carries genuine concern, but I can tell she’s trying to keep the mood light.
“Better, now that she’s gone for good. Can’t say I’ll miss her drama.” I let out a relieved sigh, feeling the weight lift off my shoulders just a bit. I flip a beignet in the pan, the sizzle syncing with my heartbeat.
“Sometimes we’re too quick to judge those girls, Blue,” Babet says softly, the laughter fading from her expression.“Many of them are just lost souls, looking for a place to belong.”
I frown slightly, knowing she’s right but still struggling with the idea.“I get that. But it doesn’t excuse—” I stop myself, not wanting to argue.
“You know, they do serve a function. Having them around keeps the boys level-headed, if you know what I mean. They have certain… needs.” Babet’s tone is matter of fact, yet there’s a hint of sadness there. I wonder if her needs are being met by anyone either inside or outside of the club. Women have just as much desire as men, sometime more.
“Needs that I don’t exactly want to think about,” I murmur, feeling a tinge of disgust curling in my stomach.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around this world. These bikers and their rules are so different from my old world. They’re nothing alike. The people in and around the club have so much more freedom than I did.
The other day, I came downstairs and had to walk past two people going at it on the couch. I was so shocked I stopped and stared. They asked me if I wanted to join them. God, no. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about what it would be like to feel that free.
I can’t imagine having sex in front of other people. That’s not something I’d ever want to do, but there are other things I’d love to explore. Like other types of foods. Things I never got to eat before.
My father allowed me to have a beignet once or twice in the past, but there are so many other types of cuisine I’d love to try. Mexican food was always forbidden. Father called it ‘too fattening’. Maybe Vapor will take me to a local restaurant so I can finally eat all the tacos and enchiladas I can manage.
“It’s weird, being able to do almost anything I want now,” I muse.
“You can do whatever your heart desires,” Babet says as she places a hand on my shoulder.“You got more power than you realize. And your heart? It’s pure, even amidst all this chaos. Consider yourself lucky that what your father put you through didn’t turn you into a cold-hearted bitch.”
“I wish my sister had escaped that fate.” I sigh.
“Is she mean?”
“The worst. She only cares about money. Her heart as is black as they come.”
“That’s too bad.”
“In a way, I lost her forever the day she married Xavier.”
“We you close before that?”
“Before she married? Yes. After? No. Not at all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe you will find a different kind of sisterhood here.”
I nod, touched by her words. I don’t know if I’d ever consider Babet a sister, but maybe more like the mother I never really had.
Turning my focus back on the task at hand, I form another ball of dough before dropping it into the oil. There’s comfort in the rhythm of cooking—dip, fry, flip, repeat. Each beignet comes out perfectly puffed, dusted with powdered sugar, promising a moment of sweetness in a world that often tastes bitter.
The sizzle of dough hitting the oil is a soothing backdrop to the thoughts tumbling in my head. There’s one image I can’t get out of my head. It keeps clawing at the edges of my mind—Vapor, tangled up with those club girls. What’s stopping him from sleeping with any of them? They’re always around. Always half naked, if not fully nude. What man could resist all those nubile bodies?
“What’s wrong?” Babet asks.
“I can’t stand the thought of Vapor… withthem,” I wave my tongs toward the living room, which is currently being occupied by three of the club girls.
Babet glances over at the girls before turning her attention back to me.“Blue, honey, since you walked into his life, Vapor hasn’t given any of those girls a second glance. Trust me.”
“Really?” The doubt lingers, but Babet’s reassurance feels like a balm to my frayed nerves.
