Time lost all meaning. It was only when I rode down the street the yard sat on, and saw a group of teenage, bad boy wannabes trying to sneak in through the gate, that I seemed to snap out of my tunnel vision and re-enter reality, once again. Even from my far off approach, I could see the four of them trying to creep under the security cameras and slide through the opened gates of the yard. The sun was dwindling and it was no longer light enough for me to justify wearing my shades, soI pulled them off, tucked them back into my pocketand started to roll slowly towards the boys. That was the one bad thing about these motors. There was no way to approach quietly.
The tallest one snapped his head back around to look at me, his eyes popping wide open before he yelled out to his brothers and told them all to get the fuck out of there fast. At most, they were fifteen. The youngest didn’t even look twelve. Snotty nosed little bastards. I couldn’t help but smirk as I watched them run like lightning to get away from me. It wasn’t unusual for us to get this kind of attention. To some kids, we were what they wanted to be when they grew up. We were outlaws. We didn’t conform. We were feared and we were idolized. In a society where survival of the fittest was the only way to live, these boys wanted to be on top, like we were.
It was only when I began to turn into the yard and slide through the gates that my eyes fell to a gray car parked out on the street. The car I knew belonged to Ayda. The car that now had two freshly slashed tires resting on the curb side of the road.
“Shit.” I laughed as I shook my head and guided my ride back into place. My body was alive with a pulsating feeling that I had never been able to explain to anyone. Every finger ached from being wrapped around the handles for so long and not being used to it. My thighs burned and my heart was pounding in a way that was more welcome than a Maisey Sutton blowy. If I never got laid again, I wouldn’t care so long as I had this.
When I took my helmet off again and rolled my shoulders inside my hoodie, I looked back up at the club and ran a hand through my flat hair. The demons were circling above my head again as soon as I saw the patch of my brothers sittingproudly above the door, but I knew this was where I belonged, no matter how much shit I had to wrap my head around to get used to it again.
“Had a good ride?” I heard from behind me.
Half turning my body, I looked over my shoulder to the other side of the yard and saw Harry locking up the office connected to the pawn shop. He’d obviously spent all day in there doing the books, because even the fading sunlight had him squinting and reaching up to rub his eyes as he locked the place up.
“It was long overdue,” I answered slowly, watching as he began to make his way over to me with that unbalanced wobble swagger of his. “Is this the part where you give me shit for going out alone?”
“Despite what you think, I only want what’s best for you, son.”
Son. There it was. Harry never called me son. Not unless he was worried and trying to make up for the loss of the father figure in my life. It was also his way of showing me that he was on my side and warning me to drop the snark before I even started with it. He wasn’t about that today, and I had to admit, I was really fucking relieved.
“I know that,” I said quietly, turning back to The Hut and looking at the front door.
“Do you? Because I’ve kinda been getting the impression that we aren’t communicating on the same level at the minute.”
“We’re good.”
“I sure hope so,” he replied softly, his hand landing to slap my shoulder from behind before he let out a weighted sigh and started to move towards our home. “You coming in?”
“Is Ayda in there?” I asked quickly, my eyes flickering from the door to him then back again.
“Somewhere. She’s not stopped all day. The girl can work, that’s for sure.”
“She been any trouble?”
“Not that I know of, although, I’d keep Kenny at a distance if I were you. Otherwise she’ll soon be fucking in the toilets rather than scrubbing. Seems he’s been singing quite a few melodies about her around the place today.” Harry hit the stairs, his body bending and struggling with his own height and weight imbalance as he huffed and puffed.
My face suddenly tensed with anger at what he’d just said and I hated it with all that I had. More than anything, I instantly hated that I hated it. “She’s here to work,” I snapped at him. “If I need to remind Kenny of that, it won’t be politely.”
Harry laughed, landing on the porch before walking farther towards the door and shaking his head. “Boys and their toys.”
“She ain’t his toy.”
Looking back over his shoulder, he raised a brow right at me and smirked. “She ain’t yours, either, son. Just remember that. She’s here to work.”
Before I could even answer him with the insult that was about to drop off the tip of my tongue, his body had disappeared inside the club and mine was soon following closely behind. The first person I saw walking towards me when I passed over that threshold was Ayda. Her blonde hair was scraped back into a tight ball on top of her head now, like she’d been sweating so much it was the only way she could keep it under control and out of her face. Her eyes lookedheavy and tired as she clung onto the bag over her shoulder and fished around for her keys inside it, not even looking up or noticing me at all. Not until she slammed straight into my chest and her eyes rose up to meet mine. All the anger Harry had injected into me was being poured down onto her as we stared at one another. She was so close, there was barely any air between us.
Not until she took a shaky step back and started to fumble around in her head for even more apologies.
“Save it,” I said roughly. “We need to talk.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ayda
Ihadn’t stopped working all day. After spending all morning hung-over, I was about dead on my feet when someone finally walked past the laundry room and muttered I should go home. I almost cried in relief.
After I’d washed all the towels, I’d done the bedding and then their clothes. I’d remade every bed in the place and emptied their trash, gagging as I wielded a wad of tissues to pick up used condoms that had missed their target. I was also getting apt at ignoring the content of the magazines I stacked as I worked.
These men were slobs, in every sense of the word. This wasn’t a place of residence. It was a hovel. Drew’s room had probably been the neatest, but as I’d been reminded several times, he’d just been released from prison and he hadn’t spent much time there.
