“Mom?”
“Oh, honey. I’ve been so worried.”
“I’m fine, Mom. How’d you get this number?” How could she have?
“Don’t worry about that. You know we have our ways. Listen, sweet girl. I need you to come meet me. Today. Right now.”
“Mom, I can’t?—”
“It’s about your brother.”
Panic settles in my middle. What has he gotten himself into now? “Where?”
“The dollar store off the highway. Fifteen miles from the club.”
How my mother knows where the club is…the fact that my father must have told her. Or Robbie. The overwhelm from my old life flares back, and survival mode hits. I need to find a way to get to my mom. But how?
I can’t ask my men. They’re too focused on the impending confrontation with Grant. I don’t need them worrying even more about me. And I can’t have them telling me all the reasons this isn’t a good idea.
I can’t give them a reason to tell me no.
I’ll be asking for forgiveness after this, I’m sure.
“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I’m able.”
The line goes dead, and I dress the best I can in one of Saint’s shirts, my cut-off shorts, some boots, and Saint’s vest.
Let’s see how well I can pull this off. Upstairs, I do my best to act normal, winking at Pixie behind the bar and slipping into the kitchen to grab a few bites of fruit. Then I head out back, scanning the yard. Taking in who’s coming in and who’s going out.
Prospects run errands all day, and one is idling on his bike, checking his phone before he heads off. Perfect.
Sauntering over to him with all the authority I can muster—which is much more than it used to be, I close in, and the guy jumps, startled.
“Remind me of your name, prospect.” My voice comes off haughty, the same kind of tone I had to use in a room full of rich, entitled people.
“Buzz, ma’am.” He shoves his phone in his vest pocket and doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.
“You’re heading out? East or west?”
“W-west.” His eyes go wide before he tacks on, “Ma’am.”
Like I’ll punish him for the lack of respect. I smile softly. “Good. I need a lift. Just up the road to the dollar store. That’s on your way, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. But?—”
“Good. Let’s go.” I don’t wait for his answer before I climb onto the motorcycle behind him. My arms cinch around his waist, and I give him a tap on the shoulder to tell him I’m ready to go.
He only hesitates for a second before the bike is shooting forward, and we’re on the road. I breathe a sigh of relief against the leather at his back. I can’t believe that worked. That I was able to pull it off.
Hiding myself is a trick I used when I was young. Getting myself out of tough situations, sure, side-stepping the truth to keep myself safe, but lying? I’ve never been very good at that.
I’m probably still not so great at it, but when I get to the dollar store and slide off the back of Buzz’s bike with a small wince, I narrow my eyes at the way he’s about to protest something. I point a lone finger at him, and his mouth snaps shut, mortified.
“Go on and do your business. I’ll find my own way back.” My dismissal has him driving away before I make it in the door.
Maybe not my best idea, but I’ll figure it out once I’ve met with my mother. Once I’ve learned what Robbie has gotten himself into. Once I figure out how I can help.
Inside, I grab a basket, meandering down the aisles, pretending to shop until I find my mother in front of the greeting cards.
