“I’ll be back later,” I promise, not wanting Cyber to think I’m abandoning him.
“Take your time,” he says, already turning back to his screens. “Sometimes a fresh set of eyes is all we need.”
Bane keeps his arm around me as he leads me out of the vault. The way he’s taking care of me feels... nice. I’m not used to having someone look out for me. Dad was always too busy with his mayoral duties to notice if I was eating or sleeping or, you know, existing.
“Where are we going?” I ask when Bane steers us toward the clubhouse instead of his loft.
“To see if any of those bitches have some clothes that’ll fit you,” he answers, not breaking stride.
I elbow him in the ribs. “That’s not nice. Don’t call women bitches.”
He grunts in response, not bothering to argue.
The second we step into the clubhouse, Bane hisses under his breath. “Shit.”
He starts to turn us right back out the door, muttering, “We’ll come back later.”
My brow furrows. He’s acting weird. Why the heck do we need to leave and come back when we’re already here now?
Before I can open my mouth to ask as much, a woman’s musical voice calls out his name.
His eyes close. “Fuck.”
My eyes go wide? What the hell? I look over my shoulder to find a woman approaching us. She’s beautiful with wild auburn hair and crystal blue eyes—Bane’s eyes.
“Cooper Allen Benson! You get your butt back here.”
I swing my gaze up to Bane. Oh shit. She just called him out by his whole name.
His eyes open slowly, his shoulders deflating. “Mornin’, Ma.”
Ma? This is Bane’s mother?
I try to make myself smaller against his side, suddenly very aware that I’m wearing his clothes and probably look like we spent the night doing things that—yeah, just no.
“Don’t you ‘Mornin’ Ma’ me,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Your father told me everything.” Her eyes flick to me, her expression softening. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”
I blink rapidly, not sure how to respond. She seems genuinely concerned, which throws me off balance.
“Ma, this isn’t—” Bane starts, but his mother cuts him off with a wave of her hand.
“Not now, Cooper.” She reaches out and gently takes my arm, pulling me away from her son. “Come here, honey.”
To my complete shock, she pulls me into a warm hug. I stand there stiffly, not used to motherly affection—or any affection, really.
“I’m Roxy,” she says when she pulls back, keeping her hands on my shoulders. “And you must be Francesca.”
“Frankie,” I correct automatically. “Nobody calls me Francesca.”
She smiles, and it’s warm and genuine. “Well, Frankie, are you okay? Has my son been treating you well?”
I glance at Bane, who’s watching us with a pained expression. “Um, yeah. I mean, considering...” I trail off, not sure how to explain our situation to his mother.
“Pop shouldn’t be telling you club business,” Bane grumbles, running a hand through his hair.
Roxy looks affronted. “Your father and I don’t have secrets, son. And Francesca isn’t club business, now is she?” She turns back to me before Bane can answer. “You look exhausted, sweetheart. When’s the last time you had a proper meal?”
I just had about a dozen donut holes, but I’m not sure that constitutes a proper meal. “Um...”
