He literally picked up all of my stuff and dragged it inside. I repeatedly thanked him, even if he constantly grumbled under his breath as he made a pile in the corner so it was… out of the way as much as could be in the tiny space. Wow, had I really brought that much stuff?
He went as far as to put my groceries away in his kitchen and storage freezer out in the back room.
Which could make one think it was a silent invitation for me to stay awhile. But one look at Mr. Open The Door Half Naked’s tight shoulders and jerky movements, I knew it wasn’t.And that meant I had to figure a way out of this and somewhere to go with nearly zero bucks in my bank account.
I would have had more, but it seemed that in a breakup, one party is entitled to claim shit that wasn’t theirs and take off with it.
Insert hard eye roll here and a dash of needing to hit someone in the face.
Fuck my ex!
But not in the fun way.
I still couldn’t believe he’d done that to me. Broke up with me and took off before I even knew I was missing shit that wasmine. Like all the money in my savings account and most of what was in my bank account. Not to mention how he left me sitting with all the damn bills. I’d been killing myself the last three months trying to earn extra income to cover everything and pay off some of the overdue things that I had no idea were fucking overdue.
I’d like to say that was the last time I’d trusted someone like that, but look at the pickle I was currently in. I didn’t realize I trusted too blindly, but I suppose that was something else for the list of things to fix or whatever.
I tried to shake it off as my new roommate—haha, kidding—set down a plate in front of me with the most basic, bland-looking food I’d ever seen. Not that I was complaining. I was so hungry, I didn’t care what it looked or tasted like.
So, yeah… dinner was awkward. Go figure. Just two strangers sitting at a tiny table shoved up against the wall with no window to look out as a distraction.
I glanced around the cabin’s interior to have something to do, so maybe it wouldn’t feel so awkward. Oh wow. There wasn’t much to hold my attention.
“Your place is cute,” I said, trying to make some kind of conversation.
He paused, fork speared through a chunk of potato. He looked around as if he was either seeing his cabin for the first time or trying to figure out exactly what I was seeing. Somehow, I got the impression we didn’t see the same thing.
“Okay,” he grunted before tucking back into his food.
And that was the entirety of the conversation.
I offered to wash the dishes after, and he asked for my phone. I unlocked it and handed it over without a second thought. As soon as he closed the door to the little back room, I realized what a huge mistake I might have just made. Shit! There I went again, just blindly trusting. Everything was on that phone!
Panic tightened around my insides as he pulled out his phone and made a call. His lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. Who was he calling? Or more likely, who was he giving my information to?
His brows furrowed as he spoke. He tapped on my phone screen, almost seeming like he was following directions.
It seemed like it was too late to stop him. To snatch my phone away and keep my shit safe from the life-ruining thief on the other end of that call.
I realized I was being a bit absurd, but with my ex, and now this debacle with the cabin, who could really blame me?
I tried to focus on washing the dishes instead of spiraling into all the ways handing my phone over to a stranger could go wrong.
Maybe I shouldn’t think the worst of him. Things were up in the air, and I’d been screwed over, but none of that was his fault.
A long sigh left me as I dried my hands. After hanging the towel from the handle of the stove, I looked around the cabin for something else to keep my mind occupied. Seeing my coat still draped over the couch, I headed for it. I picked it up almost onautopilot and then headed over to the row of hooks on the wall next to the front door. I didn’t think anything of it as I made a place hang it. My gaze caught on something leather hanging on the first hook. I released my coat to give the garment my attention.
There were patches on it. I couldn’t stop myself as I pushed the leather vest flat against the wall.
I gasped as I took a step back.
There was a huge patch on the back indicating he was part of some motorcycle club. Blinking rapidly, I tried to convince myself I wasn’t seeing what I was seeing.
But there it was, clear as day.Steel Paragons.The armored-looking motorcycle was a dead giveaway that it was a biker group insignia.
The curved patch at the bottom readNomad. I had no idea what that meant. Honestly, I didn’t really have the first clue about any of this other than the brief things I’d picked up here and there from TV. I hadn’t watched the shows because they weren’t my kind of thing. I wasn’t into violence, fighting, and illegal acts. Which, okay, that last one might surprise some people, given my profession as a camboy. Though camming was legal and legit, some people would prefer it not to be. Besides, I wasn’t talking about petty illegal acts. I meant the ones that hurt people or led to the destruction of someone’s life. I was all for weed being legal, even though I didn’t partake, and for prostitution to be a regulated job, so it was safer.
I twisted the leather piece and turned it, eventually able to see the patches on the front.
