Momma Laverne ushered Maria back to the kitchen, leaving us alone with our food. I wasn’t even sure where to start. The smell was unbelievable. My brain didn’t know what to think, but my mouth watered. I decided to start with something familiar, reaching for the mashed potatoes as Mom poked at her salad, which was more pieces of chicken and ranch than it was lettuce and other veggies. Right before I went to take a bite, I glanced over at the kitchen and saw Laverne poking her head over the top of the saloon style door, waiting to see me take my first bite. Her bushy head disappeared as soon as we made eye contact, like she had been caught snooping, and I smiled.
The second the potatoes hit my tongue, I decided I was never going back to California unless I could take Momma Laverne with me. They were rich and buttery, with little chunks of potato and even some potato skins in them. I had never had them as anything but a pureed, snow-white mass. I reached eagerly for the corn on the cob and took a bite, enjoying the way it squirted in the most unladylike fashion over my chin. I glanced up at my mom, who was frowning at me, and rolled my eyes when she pushed the napkins towards me. Not now, Mother. Busy getting lost in food heaven here. My exploration into the collards and yams was more tentative but if this is what Southern cooking had to offer, we should’ve moved years ago. There goes my waistline.
About twenty minutes later, I was leaning back in the booth. My mom had long since pushed her half-eaten salad to the side and had watched me eat like I was seconds away from starvation. I was so dang full they were going to have to roll me out of here. I was not entirely sure I could even fit in my mom’s little sports car either. Through my sated bliss, I caught sight of Maria slipping into the bathroom. Full or not, I still desperatelywanted to find out about that bruise. Which felt more than a little hypocritical, as I had secrets of my own that I was in no hurry to share. Pushing that pesky thought to the side, I got up to follow her.
The tiny bathroom had two stalls that looked like they should’ve been one, and the fluorescent light overhead was flickering like it was barely hanging onto life. Unlike the restaurant, it reeked of cleaning products and a cheap lemony spray that made me feel like I was suffocating. I wanted to leave immediately but instead made a show of checking my makeup in the mirror, waiting for Maria to come out of the last stall. She must not have heard me come in, because she had taken her jacket off and hadn’t pulled it back on quite yet. I turned to her as she looked up at me, and we both froze. It wasn’t justtwobruises, it was several. In her cut-off tank top, I could see them scattered everywhere. Her arms, her chest, her abdomen. I literally felt sick.
“I thought I locked the door.”
“You didn’t.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Not saying I do.” We stared at each other for a minute, and then she looked down. Now that I was here, I had no idea what to say. She was clearly uncomfortable. But I knew that look in her eyes cause I had seen it countless times in my own. The fear, the shame, the wondering why. So, I just said something that countless people had told me. A little tidbit of truth I was still fighting to believe. “You’re not alone, you know. And it’s not your fault.”
She looked up at me, “You think you know me—”
“I think I’m a girl in a really, really gross bathroom who saw something I couldn’t just ignore.”
She glanced at the floor again and then muttered, “I have to get back to work. Some of us have bills to pay.”
I didn’t take offense. Not only was it true, but I saw it for what it was, a defensive barb meant to keep people away. I looked at her for a minute, taking in her beat-up sneakers, torn skinny jeans, and makeup-less face. We were so different, we came from different worlds, but somehow, I had a feeling we were very much the same. Except she was softer than I was. And I had already started outrunning my demons and, though I had a long way to go, she was still running with them at her side. I had been there once. “I’ll go back to my table. Sorry for sneaking up on you.”
At the table, Mom was fending off Laverne, who was trying to give her an entire pie. Mom gave in and thanked her for her hospitality. Momma Laverne winked at me as Mom headed for the door, and I smiled at her before grabbing the pen sitting on top of the check and writing my number on a spare napkin. If Maria wanted, I was here. I refused to let another girl dance with her demons alone. Not if I could help it.
Chapter Two
? Jackson ?
After leaving Little Miss High and Mighty behind, the four of us made our way over to the clubhouse. Mac’s dad had just opened the place a few weeks ago, somewhere for people to go, hang out, and ride if they wanted. A few of the local community had raised hell when he had proposed what was essentially a motorcycle club, but not many people had the balls to stand up to August Mills and stay standing. He was the kind of guy everyone liked, and also one who took shit from no one. People stood up straighter whenever he walked in the room.
A huge sign hung across the shiny new bay doors. “Steel Saints MC BBQ and Fundraiser.” After parking our bikes out front, Mac wandered off to find his dad. The second I walked through the front door of the clubhouse, the smell hit me—barbecue, baked beans, something buttery and sweet that made my stomach grumble like it hadn’t been fed in a week. And over all of it, the unmistakable scent of a lavender-scented cleaner. Which meant one thing: Hannah Mills was in full-blown event mode. We made our way down the hallway, past a series of rooms that Mr. Mills hadn’t figured out a use for yet.
“You boys better not be tracking mud in my kitchen!” All three of us stopped just outside the kitchen door, frozen like we’d just gotten our hands caught in the cookie jar.
Dalton peeled off his boots mid-step like his life depended on it, fumbling as he hopped on one foot. “We wouldn’t dare, Mom.”
Diego followed suit but he was smirking at me as he tossed his boots into a room. I did the same, and Dalton closed the door. If we were lucky, we would remember to grab them before she found them. I frowned at Diego. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking how you just got your ass chewed by a five-foot, blonde missile.”I rolled my eyes. “Dude, whatever. She should’ve been paying attention.”
Dalton snorted. “Youbarelymissed flattening her. I just wish I’d had popcorn.”
“Yeah,” Diego added, nudging my shoulder. “That ‘princess’ crack really sealed your fate. Nice opener, Romeo.”
I groaned. “Can wenotrehash this again?” A pair of hazel eyes flashed in my mind, bright, angry, guarded.
Mac pushed the door open behind us, arms full of folding chairs. He raised an eyebrow but kept his mouth shut, not adding to the conversation he just walked into. Classic Mac—stoic until someone really earned his two cents.
“Hey Ma,” he said, brushing past us into the kitchen. “Dad said you wanted some more chairs in here?”
“By the table” she answered, not even turning. She was elbow-deep in potato salad, moving like a tornado in an apron. “AndJackson—I better not hear one more word about you driving like your skull’s full of marbles. My husband didn’t start this so you could ride through town like your own private demolition derby.”
“Yes ma’am,” I muttered, casting a side eye at Diego and Dalton who were grinning like a pair of fools.
She paused long enough to give me the patented Mom Glare—the one that somehow combined deep affection with the promise of violence. “That license of yours didn’t come with adeath wish, I should hope. And if you think for one second I won’t make you spend the entire event picking gum off picnic tables, you’d better think again.”
I nodded my assent and beat a hasty retreat towards the garage, “Won’t happen again, ma’am.” Not like I would ever see that girl again. Thank fuck for that.
