Maggie saw me staring at the painting above the bed. “My mother painted that.”
“It’s incredible,” I breathed.
“Rhoda inherited my mother’s love of art and creativity.” Her words were sad, holding a hint of envy.
“Does she paint?”
“Not much.” Maggie sighed. “We’re always so busy, there’s never enough time to do things for ourselves.”
I turned toward my new friend. “What would you do?” I asked.
“What do you mean?”
“If you had the time, what would you do for yourself?”
Maggie moved the curtain aside to look out the window into the darkening outside. She took a deep breath. “Date,” she said.
“Date?”
She gave me a sad smile over her shoulder. “I’m twenty-two years old and I’ve never been on a date. I’ve been working since I was Nox’s age and raising children that aren’t mine since I was seventeen.”
She turned fully to face me. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings, and I wouldn’t change a thing, but...” Her voice trailed off.
“It’s lonely,” I finished for her.
Maggie nodded, her eyes glistening. I moved across the room and pulled her into my arms. She had the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I was whining about my terrible taste in men.
I squeezed her tight and then pulled back. “Any time you want to go on date, Frankie and I can come spend the night. Give you some time off.”
Maggie chuckled. “Where would I even meet someone?”
“The clubhouse,” I answered, waggling my eyebrows.
“Yeah, that’s what I need, some caveman who wants to come in and take over everything I’ve worked for. No thanks.”
I laughed with her; she definitely understood bikers.
“Speaking of, how did you end up invited to the clubhouse if I’m the only person you know?”
“That is a very long story.”
“Let’s make some coffee and sit out on the porch; we have all night.” Maggie smiled, and it settled deep inside my chest in a place I thought had frozen over completely. Maybe Maggie Winslow was just what I needed in a friend.
We sat on the back porch with steaming cups of coffee cradled in our hands and blankets over our laps to ward off the chill that settled in when the sun went down.
“So what’s your story, Kat? We’ve been having dinner together for weeks and I feel as if you know everything about me.”
“My life isn’t as exciting as yours. It’s rather cliché, to be honest. Got married too young to a man I thought I knew and didn’t see the monster inside him.”
Maggie was quiet as we rocked on the swing, looking out over the land we could barely see. I told her about Richard and whathe had done, conscious of how my story affected Frankie, but what I told her was true. The story wasn’t just hers, and right now I needed someone to confide in. Not just about Richard and Clay, but about Derek.
Maggie had no experience with men; that was clear from what she told me, but maybe that would give her a different perspective. I told her about Slyce rescuing us from the clubhouse and bringing us to Diamond Creek.
Then I told her about Derek.
I told her everything. About the attraction I felt for him, and Frankie’s strange obsession with him. I told her about my non-date with Zero, and the way Derek followed me to the bathroom at the restaurant.
About the way he kissed me.
