My shoulders slump. Even though I hate fucking leaving her, I can’t ignore my president when he asks me to do something.
“Tell the prospect to message me when he gets here.”
I hang up and toss my cell phone on the table. So much for being out of commission for a little while. Didn’t even go a fucking day without the club needing me for something. Usually, I don’t mind. The club is my life. But I’ve let Delphi down so many times that I don’t want to do that anymore.
I take another swig of my beer before putting it down on the table. I’ll finish it off when I get back. I haven’t even had a chance to show Delphi around yet. None of this unfolded as I expected. I wonder how she’ll view it here. Will it become a safe haven where she can heal, or have I inadvertently built her another prison?
“Fuck.” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
I kept the room light and airy, even though my tastes tend to run a little darker. I remember the bold colors used in Delphi and Snake’s home, and I wanted to steer far away from that so I didn’t trigger any memories. I had the walls freshly painted in a soft cream color. Pampas or something, according to the woman at the hardware store. Fuck knows, it’s cream to me. What I know, is it feels less sterile than the previous white, and when teamed with the coffee-colored oversized sofa and chair, as well as the chocolate rug, it adds depth and warmth to the room. The furniture is oak, including the coffee table, side table, and floor lamp, which creates a matching set like an advertisement for Pottery Barn. The large wall-mounted TV is the only thing overly modern in the room, but I’m not sure I could do without a TV. It’s not that I don’t read, it’s that I have the attention span of a hyperactive squirrel. I get a couple of chapters in and lose focus completely.
Getting to my feet, I grab the beer and head to the kitchen. My eyes skim over the country-style design, which is all oak and white, with a deep ceramic sink and brass faucet fittings, complementing the sleek black stove. The central island is bareexcept for a fruit bowl full of apples, and I can almost picture Delphi pulling out one of the high-backed chairs lining the island and sitting on it as she snags one. There’s an oval dining table across the room, with four chairs in different shades, adding a pop of color to the otherwise neutral room.
There’s a fancy candle chandelier light fixture hanging directly over the table that illuminates the whole room, somehow managing to not look out of place with the country vibe.
I shove the beer into the fridge before heading back to the living room. When my phone beeps, I pull it out and see a text from one of our new prospects, Pig. I snort when I see his name. Even now, that shit cracks me up. MCs are notorious for giving road names. Some stick for obvious reasons, like Hannibal’s and mine. Others because you get remembered for some shit you wished you didn’t, like Probe and Pig. Well, it’s actually P.I.G because the first night of hazing led to him so fucking drunk that he passed out after watching two club girls getting it on, muttering “pussy is god” over and over for an hour. What can I say? Bikers are assholes. But fuck me, it’s funny for the rest of us.
I grab my cut from the hook near the front door. I didn’t bother putting it on to collect Delphi. It’s against the rules to wear your colors in a cage, and there wasn’t much point once we got back. And yeah, maybe for a second, I worried Delphi wouldn’t be able to see beyond the cut to the man for a change. But she did, though she’ll be loath to admit it.
I slip my coat on, make sure my bike keys are in the pocket, and head out. I find Pig parked in front of the house, so I jog down the steps to meet him.
“Door’s unlocked. Only go in if you think she’s in trouble and needs help, which is very fucking unlikely.”
“Got it.”
I nod and head toward the garage. “I won’t be long. If she asks, tell her the truth. She’ll know if you’re lying. Your face is too expressive, and I’m trying hard not to piss her off any more than I need to.”
He tries to school his features but sucks at it. At twenty, he’s one of our youngest prospects, so I’m willing to give him a little leeway. MC life isn’t for everyone. The willing pussy might make it look attractive to a kid, but after a couple of years of prospecting, he’ll either patch in as a man, ready to put his club first, or fuck back off to civilian life. It’s hit or miss as to which way this bunch will go.
I get on my bike and head to Au. The ride takes twenty minutes, so where Havoc got thirty minutes in and out from, I don’t know.
The alarm is still going off when I climb off my bike and walk over to find broken glass on the pavement.
“Motherfuckers.” I unlock the door with my spare key and type in the code for the alarm, sighing happily when it cuts off and silence descends.
I check the time and call Nathan. “Hey, boss. Miss me already?”
“Like a boil on my ass.”
He chuckles as I take in the room. Nothing looks like it’s been touched.
“I’m guessing you’re not calling just to shoot the shit with me.”
“I’m at Au. The alarm has been going off for the last hour. I’m surprised I didn’t find the cops here.”
“Major traffic incident. Not entirely sure what’s happened, but I heard over the scanner for all units to respond.”
“Damn. Alright, keep me in the loop. Anyway, I’m here. The alarm is now off, but the front window is broken. Can’t see any signs that anyone has been inside, but can you check anyway?”
“I’m on it.”
I walk over to the window and stare out into the night, thinking about whether Delphi even knows I’m missing right now.
“Fuck. Cameras are out.”
“Alright, I’m gonna check things out.”
“Want me to call the cops?”
