“You’re going to break your neck in those things, Kaylie. I don’t want you to wear those to the shop. How about you go put on your pretty, new princess shoes you got for Christmas?” Something elseSantabrought her. I swear Mason spoils that girl.Her bedroom, full of toys he brought over from the clubhouse, proves as much.
He’ll spoil you too if you let him.
Nope. No bikers. No Mason. No heartbreak.
It’s a firm policy I have stuck to my entire life, and I don’t plan on changing it now. Bikers are trouble. Even the good ones come withenemies and wars, shit I don’t want or need in my life or Kaylie’s. We need stability and to be chaos-free. Well, as chaos-free as we can be with a hyperactive six-year-old kid who has an overactive imagination around.
And Mason is all those things. A biker with good intentions, chaos surrounding him, and an inevitable heartbreak.
No, thank you.
“Is this better, Sissy?” Kaylie asks, spinning around in circles in her sparkly pink heels and her matching pink sweater dress with white tights.
“Yes. Now, please get your jacket. It’s still very cold outside.” Kaylie gives a curt nod and runs back down the hall.
“No running in the house, Kaylie!” I shout after her.
“Soooorrrryyyy!” Seconds later she comes skipping down the hall instead.
This kid. Where does she get the energy?
“Grab your Pop-Tart and your lunch box. You’ll have to eat on the way.”
She squeals as she passes me, her rainbow backpack bouncing on her back with each step, and swings her matching lunchbox in her hand.
“Did you get your …”
She spins around with her brows raised. One Pop-Tartis half crammed in her mouth and the other wrapped in a paper towel in her hand.
“Never mind. Let’s go.”
Grabbing my purse and coat, I lock up the house and load Kaylie into her car seat and get us on our way. The roads are still a little wet, but the snow is finally melting, and the sun has made its way back to the Oakridge sky. We’re almost to the salon when my phone rings with a local number I’m not familiar with, but I answer it anyway since it could be a client calling about their appointment.
“Hello.”
“Miss Greene?” A man’s voice asks over the line.
“Yes. This is she.”
“This is Deputy Bowman from the Oakridge Sheriff’s Department. Ma’am, are you on your way to the salon this morning?” he asks. There are some shuffling sounds coming over the line.
“I am. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Did you need an appointment this morning?” I ask, putting on my best chipper morning voice.
“Uh, no, ma’am. You may want to call your clients and cancel for today.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Your salon was vandalized last night, Miss Greene. I’m afraid it’s not suitable for business. You’ll need to come down here and file a report.” I’ve never been more thankful for my earbuds than I am at this moment. Kaylie doesn’t need to hear any of this, although it won’t matter once we get to the shop. I’m sure she’ll have questions.
“Shit.” I can feel a headache coming on.“Who would do such a thing? Why?” I ask the officer, even though I have this sneaking suspicion I know who did it.
“We’re not sure, Ma’am. But we will have some questions for you to answer when you arrive here.”
“You owe a dollar to the swear jar, Sissy!” Kaylie giggles from her car seat, oblivious to the mess that is now my life and how badly shutting down my business even for a day could affect our lives as a whole.
I don’t make the money in Oakridge I used to in Baron’s Edge. It’s a different pace of life here. The people of Oakridge aren’t rich elitists looking to keep up their appearances and attend important events every other day.
This is a simple town. Where people work long, hard hours and their appearance doesn’t have to be spot on all the time. They don’t thrive on being seen all over magazine covers and TV news. They don’t care about those things here.
