I held Harry’s gaze and practically burned two giant holes into the side of his ugly face. I could see what he was thinking. He was thinking I was an idiot and a fool. He’d wanted me back because he wanted things to return to how they once were: me leading the boys on a never-ending trip to nowhere, with him riding right alongside me. Only he couldn’t see just how much things had changed around here now. Nothing wasthe same, especially not me. The problem I was having was not knowing where to start explaining any of that to a single one of them. How could I speak up and let them all know that I had to figure myself out again before I could figure out what I could do for the rest of them? How could I speak up about Pete and let them all know just how much he haunted me on a night and how much I felt like I’d let him down already?
How could I say that I wasn’t sure what I stood for anymore?
My body began to practically shake from the way I’d tensed every muscle inside it. It felt like it was going to explode and shatter into a million pieces if someone didn’t say something that made even an ounce of fucking sense to me soon. A few of them cleared their throats again, and one even decided that was the right time to light up a smoke. So when Slater finally spoke and his voice flowed through my brain enough to blow clear some of the red fog that had set in, I was more than a little bit grateful.
“What do you want, Drew? Just tell us all and we’ll do whatever we can,” he said in a way that made me believe everything he was saying. He was a good man—a good friend. I knew he’d walk to the other side of the world for me if he had to do it to make me happy again.
As my eyes tore themselves away from Harry and I blinked enough to stop them burning so much, I let my head turn to the side and looked up the table at Slater, blowing all the air out of my nose. “What do I want?” I repeated quietly.
“Yeah.”
“I want to eat.”
The whole table turned to look at me, every chair shiftingand scraping along the floor as they did.
“I want to eat,” I repeated, closing my eyes at the thought of real food and the opportunity to spend some time out in the open air, wandering around the town. “I want real shitty food—not the kind of prison food I’d have to spend forty minutes chewing to be able to swallow. I want fries, burgers, any old crap that I can throw a half a bottle of sauce on top of and wash down with a beer.”
Kenny huffed out a laugh from across the table. I knew it was Kenny ‘cause he had a laugh that made him sound like he was being electrocuted.
“I want to get outside. I want to look at daylight without seeing bars in my view. And most importantly…” I stopped to open my eyes, rolling my head lazily to one side and making sure Jedd got the full force of both my glare and my words. “I want to ride my mother fucking wheels. Right now. The chair? You can sit on that shit all year long. Just give me the seat that really matters. Let me back on my bike.”
Jedd's own lips rose to a half smile as he began to nod slowly. “I'll give you your wheels. We'll give you the ride out and the food, and as an extra added bonus, we'll give you this.” Pulling a manila folder out from under a stack of shit he had in front of him, he slid it along the wooden surface until it was within my reach, never once taking his eyes away from mine.
“What is it?” I asked as my fingertips reached for the edge.
“That info you asked for.”
“Info?” I scowled.
“On the kid and his sister.” His smile grew bigger as he pushed himself up in his seat and moved to lean over the tabletowards me. “Seems we might be able to kill two birds with one stone today.”
I pulled the file in front of me, flipping the cover open to see the face of the woman who dared to take on Drew Tucker last night staring back at me. What I couldn't figure out, as I looked down on her picture, was whether or not the smile on my lips was from amusement alone, or from the fact that I was looking into her wide eyes again and feeling the need to get a little pay back of my own.
I smirked and closed the file in front of me, desperate to keep the info inside to myself. Suddenly, I really wanted to get out of there as fast as I could.
“Where the hell are my keys?”
Chapter Nine
Ayda
“Order up, Ayda.”
“Ayda, can you pour me three coffees?”
“Ayda, the guy on four changed up his eggs to scrambled, hon.”
On no sleep whatsoever, all of the voices aimed at me were beginning to grate on my nerves and my sanity. Tangled with the constant contemplation of my altercation with Drew Tucker, I was about ready to throw my hands up and walk out of the damn place. This was normally what I thrived on—the constant rush, with no time to think, just to do. I could multitask without much thought on most days, but not that morning.
“Okay, got it,” I mumbled, grabbing the ticket from the wheel and scribbling on it. My hand threw it back up as my other grabbed for three cups, but the scalding hot pot met my palm instead.
“Jesus, Ayda,” Sam said, grabbing my wrist and towing me to the sink, where she ran cold water over my palm and clucked her tongue at me. “Where the hell is your head at today?”
My eyes met Janette’s before I dropped them to watch ourhands, the clear stream easing the tingle a little. Lifting one shoulder and huffing out a breath, I kept my excuse as close to the truth as possible. “Tate snuck out last night. I didn’t do much sleeping.”
“Damn teenagers. With the noise those bikers were making last night, what the hell was he thinking?”
“Good question,” I responded quietly, nodding to her that I could do it. “Thanks, Sam.”
