Of course, I also messaged Klara. I at least waited until I knew she’d be up getting ready for the day. But instead of offering support and guidance for running the restaurant, Idumped more whining and complaining onto her about my newfound troubles. She was appalled of course, but had no words of wisdom to share. She did have some choice words for him, though. After taking too much of her time, and realizing the sheets would take a while to dry, I decided to make my expected appearance.
I’d gone to the clubhouse as he instructed, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. The food smelled amazing and Lacy was very kind and friendly. I tried, even moving the food on the plate with my fork, but the thought of it in my mouth made me queasy. I was barely able to keep my coffee down. But I was used to having it in the morning. Without it, I’d have a splitting headache. With all of my silly hysterics, I already had a dull one. I’d hoped a little caffeine would help, because the meds I took didn’t.
Lacy was telling me about the trip they were all about to take to the beach and I nodded, sipping my coffee and trying to follow along. Daisy was at work with Falcon at a tattoo studio, and Kristie and Shiv had gone to their jobs at the CDC.
“Kristie and Rooster won’t be going with us. She just started and didn’t want to miss too much time at her new job. Plus they don’t usually have all the officers gone at once. Our trip to the wedding was the first time since I’d been here that they were all gone from the clubhouse at the same time.”
Nodding, I said, “Father hardly travels and they have rules similar to that for the men.”
“So it’s true, then?” Lacy asked. She leaned in, whispering, “He’s a mafia boss?”
Giggling, I put my coffee down. “A powerful man, forsure.” It was instilled in me as a child to never discuss Papa’s job or role.
Lacy nodded in understanding. She glanced down at my plate where I’d finally given up and put my fork down. “Do you not like biscuits and gravy? I can make you something else.”
“No, no. Just not hungry. I think I ate too much last night,” I lied.
“Yeah, it was late when we got in, but I was starving. I hate eating so late, though. So how was your first night here?” she asked, sipping her diet soda.
Lying again, I answered, “It was fine. Hard to sleep in a new place.”
She smirked. “Oh, I bet.”
“Oh, not like that. That wasn’t the issue. At all.”Well that slipped out.
Her brows raised, and I was thinking of something clever to say when Hawk came over, putting his hand out. “Can you come with me?”
Unable to look up at him, but knowing I had to do as he asked, I stood and started to grab my plate.
Lacy stopped me. “Leave that. I got it.”
I thanked her, then took his hand. I figured we were going to the house, but instead he took me to the kitchen. Mama Hen was there cooking and welcomed us in. It was a fantastic kitchen, similar to the restaurant. An industrial mixer sat in the corner of the room and Mama Hen showed me another restaurant grade stand mixer on the counter.
At least I hadsomewhereI could go to blow off some steam.
Hawk and his mother had a cute exchange and she gave away that he had a sweettooth. He tried to deny it, but she wasn’t having it, and he didn’t fight her hard. She also offered to get me anything I wanted, I just needed to provide her a list.
She grabbed my shoulders, kissing my cheek then giving me a warm smile. “I’m excited to have another woman in here with us. Lacy likes to help cook. If you need anything at all you just holler. I best get back to this.”
Her warmth enveloped me, even after she stepped back to the counter to continue what she was doing. A few seconds of that warmth lingered until Hawk tugged at my hand and guided me to a different door.
This one led to the other side of the clubhouse, I guess it was the back. The yard was similar to the front, but fewer picnic tables and a shed sat far back near the edge of the trees. My curiosity wanted to ask questions, but random chit chat felt foolish.
It was quiet and still. Before I’d left the house, loud engines roared and I watched from the window as bike after bike left, as well as an SUV and a truck. But a few men had been in the bar when I went in, having breakfast and talking.
“Watch your step out here,” he said as he led us down a path that had random stepping stones too far apart.
He walked ahead, but still held my hand. I hated how I loved the way it felt. Thinking of how that hand had been on another woman just hours before, though, sent bile to my throat. I wanted to rip mine away, but instead followed him aswe finally made it back to the house.
He didn’t let go of my hand, even inside. But when he took me to the hall and stopped at the basement door, I finally resisted.
He looked back, gripping my hand still when he realized my feet weren’t moving. “C’mon.”
“I don’t want to,” I told him, tugging at my hand.
He squeezed it tighter, though. “I want to show you something.”
My face heated and I hated my fucking complexion. My face was surely beet red. But I wasn’t crying. I was angry. “I said no,” I gritted through my teeth as I pulled harder.
