He nods once, slow.“That kind of fear ain’t new.”
“No.”
He nods understanding exactly why this eats at me.“Woman you know?”
“No.”
“But you want to.”
I let out a humorless laugh.“Everybody a damn mind reader tonight?”
“No.You’re just obvious when something matters.”
I hate that.Mostly because he’s right.I shove the empty plate aside and brace my forearms on my knees.“She’s got a kid.”
“A daughter?”
I glance at him.“How’d you know?”
“You got a different look when you said it.You always have a soft spot for the girls.I get it knowing your past.”
I drag a hand down my face feeling the stumble of my unshaved state thinking I will definitely clean up tomorrow morning.
He takes a pull from his beer.“Single mom?”
“Seems like it.”
“Then whatever’s got her on edge is probably bigger than one drunk in a bar.”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And nothing.”
Chux says nothing for a while.Crickets fill the silence.Then he shrugs.“You gonna leave it alone, leave it alone.You gonna check into it, do it smart.But don’t stalk the woman, Mellow.Women tend not to love that.”
That almost gets a real laugh out of me.“Wasn’t planning to.”
“Mm-hm.”
He pushes off the post.“You know where the line is.”
I do.Most days.
When he heads back inside, I stay where I am, staring into the dark.Thinking about a pale wrist with a red mark on it.Thinking about a small voice saying, I’m actually leaving.Thinking about the way she looked at me when I told the bastard to let go.
Like she wanted to believe somebody would save her.I sit there until my food is gone and the night settles deeper.Then I finally stand, toss the plate, and head for my room in the back hall.The clubhouse has a handful of private rooms for patched members who stay over instead of riding home.Mine’s simple—bed, dresser, chair, old lamp, one window looking out at the shipyard.
I peel off my cut and shirt, wash the blood from my knuckles in the small bathroom sink, and watch pink water swirl down the drain.His blood.Not mine.Should’ve hurt him more.I dry my hands and head back into the room, dropping onto the edge of the bed with my phone in hand.
Stupid.I know it before I do it.
But I open the browser anyway and pull up the Freedom Falls community page.There’s always somebody tagging the diner, the elementary school, the church bake sale, the softball games, every damn thing that happens in this town.
I type Lucy into the search bar.A couple seconds later, a profile pops up with a picture matching the woman from tonight.No privacy settings worth a damn, just the basic only friends can see her shit.The software we all have bypasses all that bullshit easily.
Profile picture tells far too much, blonde woman with a little girl on her hip, both smiling into the sun.The kid can’t be more than five.Same eyes as her mama.Same light hair.The caption on one photo says Quinn’s first day of kindergarten.
