Give Me Grace (Devil's Right Hand MC #5)

Chapter 6

Grace's POV
August 19th, 2002

As you can imagine, I didn't party a lot in high school. Usually partying requires friends, which he wouldn't let me have. So one would say my partying experience is pretty nonexistent.

Not that any high school party could ever compare to this.

I've been at the clubhouse for five days and tonight the the club's first birthday. I knew this chapter was new, but it was only yesterday that I found out exactly how new. Only their size and unfinished clubhouse gives away their age because they function like a well oiled machine, like four cogs in a wheel. It's intriguing watching them function, how they all play a part for the greater good. How they're all important.

Hell, after only a few days of cleaning and helping prepare for the party I feel important. I feel less like a freeloader and more like a guest earning her keep.

Which is why I'm here behind the bar working the party after another chapter's prospect that was supposed to be bartending got so drunk he barfed and passed out an hour after the party started. I think the poor bastard was drinking as much alcohol as he was serving.

It's nice to be busy, and there isn't too many people here, maybe around 50, so tending the bar isn't too hard. All of the members of the nearby Smithville Chapter are here, including their new president Grim and first lady Beth. Of course, there are designated biker bunnies who travel around to all of the DRH parties hopping from bed to bed here as well. A part of me thinks these parties are just a glorified orgy.

"You doing okay back there?" Beth asks as I refill her empty whiskey glass. "Need any help?"

Beth looks like she's only a few years older than me and has dirty blonde hair with straight across bangs. She's gorgeous, but she's not what I expected a first lady to look like. I mean, that title sounds so... official. It's damn near presidential.

Fuck I don't even know what a motorcycle club first lady is supposed to look like.

"I'm fine, thanks. I like being busy," I smile.

"Well, I don't! You're the first girl in this chapter and I can't even get the 411 on you and Blade," she laughs.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "The 411?" I question. "There's nothing to tell, he's just helping me out."

A smile spreads across my face that says she thinks I'm full of shit. "Yeah, I'm sureeeeee that's all it is."

"Of course it's all it is," I say.

I mean, it's all it can be. Look at him, the handsome, successful, hot biker. And then look at me, the scrawny, homeless, broken, child. There's no way he'd ever see me like that.

Not that'd I'd want him to.
Right?

All I know is that I feel more at home in this clubhouse than I have in any foster home the state ever put me in. I know that the four men in this clubhouse treat me with more respect than any other human being has. And I know that the mysterious man who still insists on feeding me and doesn't talk much or smile feels less like a stranger every day. He kinda feels like home.

"You doing okay back there?" Christopher asks as he and Grim approach the bar. Grim slides onto a bar stool beside of Beth and puts his arm around her shoulders.

"Just fine," I answer.

"You know," Grim says with a slight slur to his voice. "A bartenders gotta be able to handle any shit that happens in the bar. It's why we make men do it."

"Is that why your man passed out an hour into his shift," I snapped, annoyed by his obvious sexism.

For a moment, I expect Grim to be angry at my disrespect, but after only a beat a shit eating grin spreads across his face. "Oh yeah," he says, bringing a beer bottle to his lips. "You'd be able to whip this group into shape."