“Predictable is good.”
I nod, “Predictable is everything.”
He doesn’t argue with that.Just nods back.“What about Quinn?”he asks.
“What about her?”I wonder where this is leading.
“She like it here?”
I smile despite myself.“She loves it.She has friends, a routine she’s happy.”
“That matters.”He tells me what I already know.
“It’s the only thing that matters.”
His gaze softens slightly.Not in a way most people would notice.But I do.
“What about you?”I ask.
The question slips out before I think about it.
He stills.Just a little.“What about me?”
“You live at the clubhouse?I know you are a King and I’ve seen the clubhouse by the shipyard.Is there where all of you sleep?”
“Sometimes.”
“What do you do when you’re not,” I pause wondering how to express this, “throwing people through tables?”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face.“Offload ships.Fix things.Ride.Handle club business.”
“That’s very vague.”
“It’s accurate.”
I tilt my head.“You’re not going to tell me anything real, are you?”
“I just did.”
“No, you didn’t.”He watches me for a second.Then he adds, “I’ve been a lot of places.Wonderer of sorts for a long time.Met Chux and found where the Kings could use Freedom Falls for the club and decided to settle down.Been here for years now.It’s home.”
“That’s still vague.”
“It’s also true.”
I narrow my eyes slightly.“You’re frustrating.”
“I’ve also been told that.”
I sigh.“Fine.Keep your mysterious biker secrets.”
“Not secrets.”
“What are they then?”
He pauses.“Things that don’t matter right now.”
Something about that answer makes me pause.Because it feels intentional.
