ELLE
Zodiac’s return to Baton Rouge left me restless and emotional. Many afternoons, I found myself crying against Shay in the family room. Nothing in particular set me off. I was simply stuck in a malaise without Zodiac.
“I shouldn’t have indulged my crush,” I told my mom while Ford took Sutter fishing to get him away from my mopiness. “I thought I’d want Zodiac less, but time together has only made the need more intense.”
“I blame Ford. He encouraged you to follow your heart. I wanted you to stay far away from Zodiac. Your dad claimed that was chickenshit thinking, but I was right.”
Even though I nodded, I preferred my dad’s plan because it allowed me to spend time with Zodiac. Shay sensed I was bullshitting her and hugged me tighter.
“Youcan’tmove to Baton Rouge.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Zodiac won’t move here.”
“I know. Stop hitting me with facts. I want silly dreams,” I said and cuddled against my mom. “Tell me that this long-distance thing will work out.”
“Your problem is you aren’t busy enough to take your mind off him. I bet Zodiac misses you, but he has a club to run and territory to monitor. Meanwhile, you’ve been home more because Sutter isn’t attending a physical school. You used to spend more time at theSorority House and condos. Maybe if you hung out with your friends more, you’d be less upset over Zodiac.”
“What about Sutter while I’m off partying with the foxes?”
“He can hang out with Ford. Let your dad have fun while you keep yourself busy. Soon, the baby will be here, and your time won’t be so flexible.”
Cupping my mom’s face, I kissed her forehead and cheeks. “You’re so smart.”
Shay wrapped me tighter against her like she did when I was a scared little girl. My parents were the reason I had the balls to date a man like Zodiac.
Over the next week, I tried to fill my days better, so I wasn’t as focused on missing Zodiac. I visited Cher and Stevie in the mornings before coming home to have lunch with Sutter. Then, I’d help Shay at her office or check on the safehouses.
Years ago, the Little Memphis Motorcycle Club bought an apartment complex to board club allies. Over time, women in trouble were moved into the empty apartments. By the time I was an adult, the Shelby Road Apartments were a safehouse for women and kids starting over.
My mom worked with many of the women to find them jobs, organize daycare for their kids, and rebuild broken lives. I was always proud of Shay for helping people. That was why I volunteered to supervise the safehouses, like the apartment building. Offering a second chance to hurt women and kids felt like a family business.
The smaller safehouses were outside of town and more lowkey. However, the apartment complex had security doors at both entrances and the outdoor parking lot. We also kept a “den mother” and hired guns on sight to ensure problems were dealt with quickly.
Today’s supervisor was Barb, a no-nonsense woman with long gray hair, a weathered face, and sparkling blue eyes.
Nova and I were on our way home for lunch when Barb texted me for help with a woman looking for her daughter. Taking a detour, I arrived at the apartment complex just after eleven.
I decided to park a bit back from the building in case the woman proved to be sketchy.
“Is this dangerous?” Nova asked, glancing at my stomach.
“Probably not. If you hear yelling or sirens, don’t panic. If trouble breaks out, duck down and call your brother.”
“You should get someone else to handle this,” Nova mumbled. “Maybe we can call Clint or Exile or Boone.”
Remembering what Zodiac said at Cher’s party, I asked, “Why Boone?”
“He’s big and strong.”
Cocking a brow, I mentally filed away her possible interest in my friend. Grabbing my bag, I assured her, “Everything’s fine. I’m already here, and this is my job. Just chill and play games on your phone. Ooh, why not read one of those saucy romance books I saw on your Kindle when I was spying?”
Nova’s mouth popped open in horror as if she was caught looking at porn. Leaving her to blush, I walked down the block toward Barb and the middle-aged woman.
I scanned the busy road for trouble. A group of teenage guys were bunched up at the corner. A man sat in a car across the street. Another man lingered near the deli up the road. None of them looked overly suspicious, but I made a mental note of their movements as I joined Barb.
“Listen, Kristine, I can’t help you,” Barb told the prim brunette. “Maybe she can.”
