I grimaced. If Dad was pissed at Steele for dating Tara, it was only going to get worse knowing she was now asking the guys under the table to continue providing security.
“And which one is going to protect me?”
“I don’t know,” Tara said. “He said he’d ask one of the tougher guys. So I assume Connor or Mason.”
“Well, at least then it’ll be easier to say no if they hit on me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I ignored her.
“Anyway, where all are you looking at applying to?”
Our conversation shifted toward other jobs and soon to much lighter topics, such as where we’d try to pressure Mom and Dad to take our Christmas vacation to. We soon went from sisters trying to figure out why we were going on our separate paths to just sisters hanging out and chatting. I welcomed the shift in conversation after the Monday I’d had.
I wasn’t sure there was anyone else I could just have a normal conversation like this with.
* * *
I awoke at seven a.m., headed downstairs, and made myself some cereal and milk. It took me a few minutes of waking up to realize Tara would not be joining me on the drive to Santa Maria. I was on my own.
I was going into that crime-infested town without support of any kind.
Except for whoever is guarding the door at the front. Joy.
At least they’re on our side for now. But why can’t it be the cops?
I finished my food and headed to the garage. My parents had already left for the day, apparently needing to get into the office sooner to fire their daughter faster. Tara hadn’t left the house yet, but it wasn’t like she needed to impress anyone anymore. I pulled out of the driveway and headed out east.
It was all fine and normal until I left Albuquerque in my rearview mirror. So long as I stayed in the city confines, I felt safe, like I was in a world I knew well and was protected in. But as soon as I left civilized society, it was like I was driving into the era of the Wild Wild West, where the sheriff held less reign over the town than the dominant clubs. I think what Tara didn’t understand was that the second she and Brock had a bad moment, the entire club would turn on her.
And if they would turn on her, they’d turn on me.
All she needed to do was think about how Brock had treated her for the first bit when she and Steele had broken up. He hadn’t talked to her like he’d used to, nor had he reached out. In fact, she’d mentioned a couple of times it seemed like he was running away. Why would she ever think it’d be different the next time things got bad?
I made it a point to fill up on gas before I got to Santa Maria; barring an emergency, the only time my car would not be in motion was at a red light, and even then, I would never feel more tempted in my life to run one. Thankfully, the streets were quiet, and I made it to the barren stretch of road leading to the office by the solar field.
As I got closer and closer, I could see a bike parked right out front. There were a couple other cars there, presumably for some of the field workers. I saw a man leaning against the exterior of the building, but I couldn’t make out which Black Reaper—if it was, in fact, one of them and not a Bandit—stood there.
It wasn’t until I pulled into the parking lot that I saw who it was. I gulped and felt a fire flare in my stomach.
None other than Tara’s ex, Steele Harrison, stood at the front entrance. He had on tight blue jeans, a black Metallica t-shirt, his Black Reapers MC cut, and a drink in his hand. He looked pissed as hell to be there this morning.
I wasn’t sure what was worse, that a part of me was aroused by the sight or that I knew he and I were about to have a fight—and it wasn’t even eight in the morning yet.
