“Like, good or bad?”
“Uh- I’m sure they could find both.”
Maverick’s hands tighten around my waist. One slips to my back and splays out there, tracing small, comforting circles.
The woman stalks back to the table, pulls out a chair, and drops into it. “Come have a cookie with me. I have questions now and I’m not going to be able to just get up and leave.”
A tiny smile breaks over my face, but it’s real. It’s very,veryreal. That offer was friendly, and if there’s anything that I could use in this world—that Maverick and I could both use—it’s another friend.
Chapter 19
Maverick
Scythe figured that Loreena would want to be alone to meet with Dravin and Wizard, likely without even me present, so he didn’t ask any of the old ladies to be here. He did mention that Lark and her daughter, Penny, were here this morning to bake cookies since she had the day off school, and that Tyrant wasn’t going to be at the club this afternoon so that they could do something together as a family.
I’ve never seen this woman before. She looks so young, but sitting in that chair, smiling brightly at us, she’s clearly not shy, and seems quite at home in the clubhouse.
“I’d love a cookie,” Loreena whispers to me.
I untangle our limbs and help her down off the counter.
I don’t want to have her anywhere other than in my arms, but I know how unrealistic that is. Probably slightly unhinged too. Her taking the lead in anything and slowly coming back to life is the most beautiful thing. I’d fight the whole world and the fucking heavens too, just to give Loreena the opportunity to sit across the table from someone else and make small talk, but I don’t have to fight anyone. She’s free to do that right now. We’re here because she has so much courage and unwavering faith.
She might take a cookie from the plate in the middle of the table, but as I slowly amble across the kitchen and pull out a chair, she might as well be holding my entire heart in her hands.
The woman leans casually in her chair. She looks like she’s a few seconds away from sticking those Chucks up onto the table. “I’m the daughter that most people don’t even know Preacher has,” she says. “Fawnie.” She drops the cookie to the table and sticks out her hand to Loreena.
She shakes it shyly, sneaking a glance at me as she does it. She looks so happy that my chest could bust wide open.
“It’s not because he’s not proud of me or anything,” Fawnie explains. She takes a cookie in each hand like a little kid would and nibbles on both of them. On her, somehow, it’s like a double middle finger to the world. It’s probably just the punk getup, but she also exudes the attitude. “I guess it’s not really a secret. I’ve just never been allowed to visit him, compliments of my mom having a hardcore hate on for him.”
“I- I see,” Loreena responds.
“It’s okay that you don’t.” Fawnie laughs good-naturedly. “It’s probably better that way. No one likes talking about family drama. Long story short, my dad used to be a real pastor and then my mom said he went crazy, had a midlife crisis, moved across the country, joined a biker club, and took up some hussy who owns a nightclub and accepted her kids like his own, meaning he forgot all about me. Except none of that’s true. I mean it is, but not the last part.” She stuffs the rest of the one cookie into her mouth, and chews, waiting until she’s done to finish her story. “My dad never forgot me. It was my mom who tried to keep him out of our lives, but I’m in college now. I have my own job, my driver’s license, and some cash. I can go where I want to go. Anyway, my car’s been making a funny noise and Dad’s not going to let me drive back across the country in that. He’s taking it to the shop, but needed to stop here first. He forgot something, but I can’t even remember what it is.” Her smileand easy going air drop away, but she’s not unfriendly and not guarded. I can see that she doesn’t want to hurt Loreena with her questions. “How are you going to get the IT guys to help you find the person you’re looking for? Do you have a photo?”
I raise my hand and grasp the back of my neck, suddenly feeling at a loss.
“I don’t,” Loreena admits. “They’ll probably ask me for a description and age, and then they’ll go off the location. It’s not much to work with, and I have no idea how just those few things could come together to actually find someone, but I’m not the one who’s good at that kind of thing.”
Fawnie sets her hand on Loreena’s. She’s still holding the cookie. She hasn’t taken a single bite. My protective instincts pretty much flip into that batshit crazy level, but no matter how much I want to be Loreena’s shield and carry her through this, I know that’s not fair to her or healthy. She can swing a sledgehammer and break plates with the best of them. She’s one of the strongest people I know, and even if she’s just figuring that out, it doesn’t change that it’s true.
“I’m only asking because I have someone that I want to find.” Fawnie drops her eyes, but she doesn’t let go of Loreena’s hand. “Do you think that they’d help me?”
Loreena stares at me blankly. All I can offer is a small shrug, but that feels disloyal as fuck. “I’m not sure. It might depend on whether you’re asking them to find someone without the permission or knowledge of the club or not.”
I’m not a patched in member and these men aren’t my club brothers, but they are Scythe’s, and they were good enough to make me this offer of family and give me a job. The last thing I want to do is go behind their back, especially her dad’s. I’ve metPreacher once and he seems like a solid guy, but even if he was a total douchebag, I’d still have zero right.
“My dad knows that I want to start searching properly. It’s not a secret,” Fawnie says. “I just never thought that I’d have the money to hire someone to look for him, or that I could find someone who could do something like that based on just my memory. I thought that I’d have to get a sketch artist or something.”
Loreena frowns. “I thought that too.”
“This man is a freaking hero. He saved my life. All I’ve wanted to do is find him and thank him.”
Fawnie shoves up suddenly and walks across the kitchen. She rummages in the cupboard and gets a coffee mug, but all she does is pour water into it and chug it back. She sighs, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Do you want some?”
“That would be amazing,” Loreena says.
