“On the count of three,” I say, looking to Gage and Cash, who nod. “One, two, three.” This time, the door’s hinges creak and finally collapse, the door falling to the ground in a cloud of dust with a dull thud.
Naomi looks begrudgingly impressed for a second before hiding it behind a mask of indifference. “Well, what are youwaiting for?” she says, gesturing to the open doorway. Inside, the room is dark, obscuring what lies ahead.
“Ladies first,” I reply, still unwilling to risk walking into a trap.
Again, she does a frustrated eye roll to let me know exactly how stupid she thinks I am. “Fine. Follow me,” she says with a sigh, marching inside.
The door leads to a dark hallway, the only light coming through the chinks in the wooden boards on the windows. Dust motes dance in the shafts of daylight as we disturb the dirt on the floor. At the end of the corridor, there’s a second door. Thankfully, this one isn’t locked. It leads into the mill’s main floor, where the large machines sit, gathering dust. From there, Naomi confidently strides toward the wooden staircase in the corner, stepping over the obstacles of splintered wood and cardboard boxes.
The stairs lead up to what I presume to be the office area. They’re rotting with age, a leak somewhere hastening their erosion. Naomi walks up them with practiced ease, knowing exactly where to step. As I place my foot on the first rung, the stairs creak in protest.
“Are you sure this thing can hold our weight?” I ask uncertainly.
Naomi shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”
With the challenge laid down, I can’t back out now without seeming cowardly. Determined, I follow, trying to use the same path Naomi took. I’m worried that the stairs will break, but they hold. Sensibly, Cash and Gage wait until I reach the top before they follow one at a time.
“What’s next?” Gage asks with a grin. “A giant boulder we have to outrun?”
Naomi’s laugh is free and natural; it fills the room as it echoes off the walls. I feel a tinge of jealousy that the only reactions I seem to elicit from her are frustration and anger. At the next door, she hesitates, seemingly reluctant for us to enter. “I hid the weapons in here,” she says, but she makes no move to open the door.
“Well? What are we waiting for?” I ask. “Or is there actually some other pitfall we need to watch out for?” I half expect the room to be booby-trapped to keep out intruders, something I wouldn’t put past Naomi.
She shakes her head. “No. No, it’s fine.” She places a hand on the handle, biting her lip nervously before taking a deep breath and opening the door.
Inside, my breath is taken away by what I see, and I realize why Naomi was reluctant to open the door, to let us in, and share this sacred space. The walls are covered in elaborate, stunning murals, each one more beautiful than the last. It must have taken hours of work.
“These are yours?” Gage breathes in awe, stepping closer as he studies one wall.
Naomi shyly nods. “Yes,” she admits.
For the second time today, I’m floored by this woman. I didn’t expect to see this. It’s clear from Naomi’s discomfort that she never expected anyone else to see it either. I feel guilty and honored to get this glimpse of her world, a window into her soul.
“They’re amazing,” Gage says, giving voice to my feelings.
Cash strolls around, taking it in. “They really are good, Naomi. Do you do this professionally?”
Naomi flushes pink with pride. “No, this is just for me. For fun.”
“Well, you’ve got the talent to do it for money,” Cash remarks.
“Yep, I’m definitely getting you to design my next tattoo,” Gage says. I get the impression he’s referring back to some earlier conversation between them.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, looking at the floor. Bashfulness isn’t something I thought she possessed. “Thanks, guys.”
“Where are the weapons?” I ask gruffly, not wanting them to see how much her art has affected me, how deeply I’m touched by it as I gaze upon it.
I see the sting of rejection and hurt in Naomi’s eyes before she quickly replaces it with the neutral expression she seems to be adopting around me. She hates me. Well, so be it. I just need to keep her and my club alive and well. She doesn’t need to like me for that.
She doesn’t bother to reply to me. The only indication I have that I’ve offended her is the heavy clomp of her boots as she stomps over to where she’s hidden the guns. She bends down and wrestles with the loose floorboards before she reveals the concealed space under the floor. Inside is a wooden crate filled with weapons and ammo. There’s even more here than what we intended to buy at the auction.
“Jackpot!” Cash breathes as he leans over the hole.
Chapter 9
Naomi
After much deliberation, the guys decide to take only a few guns this time and to come back to collect the rest. I don’t like the idea of people traipsing through my secret place, but after today, I no longer care. Showing them that room was like exposing a piece of my soul, and while Gage and Cash were kind and supportive, Ace reacted as if there wasn’t even anything there. Based on the artwork on his body, I know he has taste, so the only conclusion I can draw is that he didn’t like my work. I shouldn’t care. He doesn’t have to like my work, or me for that matter, yet his lack of interest left me feeling raw and exposed.
