He shakes his head. “Right call, given those men were quickly gonna hurt you. But maybe leave them on next time you’re in the store.”
My walk of shame is worse than I imagined. Because in the cold light of early morning, when bright sun is flooding in through the clubhouse windows that have been opened wide to let the air in, I feel like I’m on display.
Some of the men look up as we pass through, but there are no lewd comments or remarks.
“Prez,” one of the men says as we pass.
Knox just tips his chin.
It doesn’t make up for the fact I’m disheveled, barefoot, and clearly leaving Knox’s room after staying there all night.
There’s a strange neutrality to it all. Like this happens all the time here.
But because thisnever happensto me, I find it mortifying. And I thought that was as bad as it could be until Vandal stands and starts singing that old Hall & Oates song, “Maneater”, about how Knox is going to have to watch out because I’ll chew him up. He does the whole chorus with his whole heart and a raging grin on his face.
It breaks the ice, and everyone starts to laugh and join in.
“I’m never living this down,” I mutter.
Knox threads a hand into the back of my hair. “You’ll survive. It’ll be one of those things that’ll be talked about in years to come. The legend of Maren Caldwell and what she was prepared to do for the president and the club.”
We make it outside, and I’m about to make the tentative walk on the gravel when Knox…bends.
One moment, I’m standing there regretting my life choices. The next, I’m hauled up into his arms as if I weigh nothing.
“Knox,” I cry, and wrap my arms around his neck for safety. “I could have walked.”
“And no woman of mine is going to cut her feet up when I’ve got two arms to carry her. So, shut up, Maren, and let me be a gentleman.”
I kiss the corner of his mouth. “You, are no gentleman.”
He sets me down in the seat of my truck that…
“Did you have people fix up my truck overnight?”
Knox grabs the belt and reaches across me to fasten it. “What we could do without ordering supplies to the garage, yeah. But it’s safe, for now. Got rid of the shattered glass and shit. The rest of the parts will arrive in about four days.”
I place my hand in his. “Thank you. If you tell me how much I owe you, I’ll?—”
“Don’t make me mad before I’ve had coffee, sweetheart. I’m not taking your money. Now, pull over by the gate, and I’ll ride home behind you.”
I roll my eyes and sigh as I take the metal structure that’s bent out of shape. “Knox, you don’t need to?—”
He slams the door shut and walks away without argument. And he and I both know I’m going to wait by the damn gate.
I ride to the shop slowly, not only because I don’t want Knox to crash into the back if I brake too hard, but because I’m scared of testing just how well the truck is held together. I’m sure Knox wouldn’t have asked anyone unqualified to fix it, but when I pulled in last night, I thought it was going to fall apart like one of the cartoons, where all the walls collapse outwards.
When my store comes into view, my chest tightens, then loosens just as fast.
The lights are on, the building is intact, and I can make out two of the very bored sentries.
Leo’s car is in the lot, as is Jamie’s. And one of the boats is already gone from the dock.
Life just carried on without me, and my gut tells me there’s a lesson to be learned in all that.
I pull into the lot, and Knox parks next to me just as Leo hobbles out of the shop. “Maren,” he calls out. “They told me what happened. Are you okay?”
I step down onto the asphalt, which is already hot beneath my feet. “I’m fine. I can fill you in once I’ve gotten dressed.”
