“A treat then. Ice cream or something.”
Atlas’ grin grows so wide that I can see half of his back teeth. “How can we say no to ice cream?”
“It would be better if we were out of here,” Wizard protests. He stacks four boxes into Atlas’ arms as he holds them open. Wizard never did like Seattle. I think it’s any city. He can’t breathe when he can’t see the stars. Seattle is beautiful, but as people say, it’s in the eye of the beholder, and he was never keen on beholding it. “We could stop at the gas station on the outskirts of town.”
“That place has a diner attached. It seemed to have good family vibes,” Atlas agrees.
“How did you guys even notice that?” Right. This isn’t their first trip to Seattle.
“I’m always looking for places to get grub. That and pick antiques. Willa gets downright excited when I find something she doesn’t know about. It’s better than bringing home dozens and dozens of roses.”
“Can we stop?” I ask Wizard, even though he basically suggested the spot.
“We probably do need some fuel,” Wizard admits. “We’ll check it out. I can always stay behind and watch the truck and the bikes while you guys have something to eat.”
“Thank fuck!” Atlas drags out the middle of the fuck so it’s somewhere around eight syllables long. “I’m starving. Growing boys need chicken strip baskets, fries, and extra ice cream.”
“Don’t worry, Wizard. We’ll get our orders to go so we can come camp out with you in the parking lot.”
“Don’t you dare.” Wizard glares them down while he scoops up another armful of heavy boxes. “I’m fine outside.”
“You’re way too good,” Atlas throws back. He tries to outdo Odin and Wizard on the box stack but ends up nearly toppling all four boxes. “Always showing us up.” He winks at me. “He doesn’t. I swear. Show us up, I mean. He’s just great.” He glances behind him. Wizard and Odin are outside. “Wizard’s always the one still awake when everyone else has gone to bed. He’s the one who doesn’t need a drink because he needs to be sober more. He’s the quiet one, and they say you should always watch out for those kinds, but he’s like that in the good way. The one you don’t see coming. He sacrifices for us so fucking often, and never once asked for anything in return. We’re great as a club because of all the moving parts and pieces, all the differences between us, it all works together. Wizard’s pulled more than his fair share of making that possible.” He hefts up the boxes and angles toward the door, trying to gauge where it is so he doesn’t knock the top box off right into his face.
“That makes sense.” My heart vibrates and throbs in my chest in such a brutal shockwave that the concussion makes it hard to catch my breath. “He always was that way. Kind. Selfless.”Maybe too much.There’s something there, on the edge of my mind, but it skitters away when I reach for it.
After the boxes and the tie downs, after I lock up, after the long drive back through the city to the outer limits, Wizard does exactly what he said he was going to do. He leaves his bike beside Odin’s, both parked by the truck, drops the tailgate, and plops down, legs spread, elbows resting on his thickly muscled thighs, boots dangling in the air like he’s hunkering down for the long haul.
He’s deceptively casual, but since the guys are also wearing their leather vests with the club patch on the back, they get some looks. The gas station does have a diner attached. It’s surprisingly busy, with people coming and going. Wizard draws far more interested female attention than wary or curious male looks, but he acts like he doesn’t see any of it.
Atlas and Odin are back a few minutes later. “They’re swamped in the dining room. Said food’s a half hour wait at least, even if we get it to go.”
Wizard lifts a shoulder in a shrug. He should be exhausted, surly, impatient. He’d have every right to just want this night over and done with. He hasn’t slept in all this time, but he’s far from being worn out. Gas station lights flicker off his luminous green eyes and paint his smile golden.
“It’s all good. I don’t mind waiting out here. You guys go on ahead and order. Sit down. Have some soda. You both look parched.”
“Fuck you, I don’t,” Odin grinds, but he grins. “Maybe just a little. What can we get you?”
“Just a sandwich and a coffee.”
Atlas claps him on the shoulder, then motions for me to follow them in.
“I—I think I’m good out here. I like the air.”
Their eyes flick to Wizard. He shifts over on the tailgate.
“What can we get for you?” Atlas asks.
“This was supposed to be my treat.” I move for the passenger door, to get my purse where I left it on the floor by myseat. I realize how ridiculous that must seem after the club just bailed me out to the tune of two million fucking dollars.
“Nah,” Odin waves me off. “Don’t worry about it. Do you want a sandwich too?”
“Sure. Anything. And sweet tea if they’ve got it. Thank you.”
They move off, so different from each other, but with the same confident gait, their broad leather-clad shoulders announcing their brotherhood.
I’m wearing yet another fresh shirt and a new pair of leggings. I changed right before I hauled my suitcase out of my old room. I’m damp again. Because it’s hot out, and humid? My heart hasn’t calmed down either. It’s still fluttering at a weird rate. I’m no stranger to dealing with anxiety in some form, and fuck, this feels like a brain glitch, telling my heart that I’m locked in a room with all the threats. My body still hasn’t seen reason. Maybe that makes sense. It’s been a lot of… change.
“The house is non-descript in that magazine aura way,” I say for no reason at all except that the words drop out of my mouth as I try to stand casually by the tailgate. “It seems perfectly staged. The realtor should be happy when he gets there tomorrow.”
