Outlaws’ Property (Property of Outlaw Sons MC #1)

10. Jessica

10

JESSICA

I wake up in Bonnie’s spare bed, still in the sweats I was wearing the night before. The curtains are mostly closed, but a shaft of bright sunlight slips in through the side. The clock on the wall says it’s after three in the afternoon, which is completely impossible.

I’ve never slept that late in my life. Not that I remember anyway.

I actually watch the second hand count off two more minutes before I’m willing to believe it isn’t just stopped at that time. Every morning my alarm goes off at six sharp. I have to get ready, put on my uniform and make sure everything is ready when Anne gets up at seven because her tutor comes at eight. Weekends are a little more lenient, but she’s expected to eat breakfast at nine with her father and Marissa.

My heart skips a beat when I realize what’s missing.

Anne.

I jump out of bed and rush into the living room.

Bonnie is on the couch holding a game controller, and Anne is sitting on the floor next to her with a controller just like it.

Anne leaps to her feet when she sees me and rushes over. “I had cereal with tiny marshmallows in it, and Bonnie let me try her coffee! We’re playing Mayhem City Five! This is awesome!”

Oh my God.

I’m not sure if it makes me feel better or not that Anne is acting like she’s on the best vacation ever. She’s going to need a detox and therapy. So much therapy. We both are.

“That’s… great,” I squeeze out, trying to sound supportive.

“You slept forever. ”

“She needed it, kid,” Bonnie says from the couch. “I hope you don’t mind me keeping an eye on her. You were dead to the world in there.”

“What are you wearing?”

Anne grins and spins in a circle. She has a pair of hot pink leggings and an oversized black sweatshirt with some kind of scary looking band logo on the front. Her long blonde hair is pulled back in a bouncy ponytail, and glittery bow earrings dangle from her ears.

“Bonnie has so much cool stuff. She said you can borrow clothes, too.” She goes back to the TV and picks up her controller. “We’re helping this cult, who are really the bad guys, but Bonnie says they’ve got shi—lots of cash.”

“Um… okay. That sounds useful.” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

Bonnie stands up and pats Anne on the head as she walks by. “You keep that up. I’ll go help Jessica. Shout if you need backup.” She steers me into her bedroom.

The bedroom is the first place that doesn’t feel entirely like Bonnie. The walls are deep blue, and the bedding is slate gray. There are splashes of color, and Bonnie obviously uses it, but it feels different.

“Do you live here on your own?” I ask softly.

She pauses as she rummages through her closet. “I do now. Used to live in the first floor apartment with my man, but he’s gone. Aha! Found some stuff that’s probably about your size. Those days are behind me, but as you can see, I’m not that great at decluttering.” She pulls out a couple pairs of jeans and some shirts. “Here, take these and you can use my shower. It’s through there. Towels are under the sink to the left.”

Her bathroom is once again a shrine to all things Bonnie, aside from a solitary razor near the sink, and a bottle of cologne with dust on the top. I take out what’s left of my braid and shower quickly, using the shampoo and conditioner she has standing on the side of the tub. It smells like watermelon candy. Slowly, the hot water sinks into my bones and I grin.

I’m free.

Okay, not free free, but as close as I’ve been in a long time.

These people aren’t keeping me because they have a cruel master plan. Here I’m not rat girl, Victor’s little punching bag. I can just be me, Jessica. Anne’s nanny.

I barely recognize the girl looking back at me from the mirror when I’m done. I brush out my hair and actually leave it to dry loose around my shoulders in soft brown waves. Without my hair pulled back and slicked down, my glasses even look kinda cute.

I try on the first pair of jeans. They’re tight, but with a little wiggling they fit just fine. The only problem is that they hug me like a second skin and there are horizontal slits cut all the way down the fronts of my thighs. I turn around and look over my shoulder, blushing at how sexy they are. No one’s ever seen my butt that clearly.

Could I really be the kind of girl that wears these jeans? Maybe I need to find out before saying no too fast.

The first shirt is a pretty pink, but it’s cropped so high I’m afraid my boobs are going to fall out. Nope. I can only handle so much so fast. I end up settling on a black sweater that isn’t too short or too tight. It’s soft and fairly modest other than that the neck hole is huge and it keeps falling off my shoulder.

Seeing myself in the mirror gives me a little thrill. I don’t know if this is who I want to be, but maybe it’s one version of who I could’ve been if I’d gotten the chance to grow up normally instead of being kept under lock and key.

Nervous, I walk to the living room and clear my throat. They look up from their game. "How do I look?" I wet my lips nervously. Bonnie picked these out in the first place, but I still feel self-conscious. It's way more revealing than anything I've ever worn.

"You look amazing, Jess!" Anne yells eagerly. "Like Sandy!"

Bonnie chuckles. "Do kids still watch that movie?"

“Oh, definitely. At least girls with limited streaming options. Last summer was non-stop Greased Lightnin’.” Nervously, I twirl.

"Gorgeous. You’re going to have to watch out. If the sluts get a look at you they are going to think there’s fresh blood to compete with.”

“The what ?” I ask in horror.

“The sluts. Club girls. Don’t know if you noticed, but there aren’t exactly a ton of women around here. Forget what you know about feminism when you go through the front gate. This is a boys club, and girls are only allowed if they have something to bring to the table. If you know what I mean.”

“That’s horrible! I thought you said they weren’t like that.”

She snorts. “I said they wouldn’t hurt you or Anne, and that’s the truth. I never said they weren’t a bunch of Neanderthals. Around here you’re really only going to find two types of women. Old ladies like me who have a man willing to put his name on the line for her, and the girls who are just here for a good time. Most just drift through for parties, but the ones the boys take a liking to and let stick around are called sluts. Not everyone makes the cut, so it’s a badge of honor around the clubhouse. You don’t have to like it, but they made their choice and they’re fucking proud of it.”

I look over to see Anne pretending not to listen, but her person on the TV is running aimlessly in circles, not aiming her gun anywhere. I give up. So long as she makes it out of this with all her fingers and toes I’ll be happy.

“Now what’dya want for lunch?” Bonnie asks, slapping her hands on her thighs and standing up. “Someone will be up to check on you soon enough I think. Might as well have food in your stomach for it.”