“Kitchen is across the hall from the bar. Grim keeps it stocked, so you should be able to find anything you want. I can message one of the other prospects to give you a hand if you like.”
Sweet offer, but no. “I’m good. Thanks.”
He moved in front of the bedroom door as I walked away from him, taking the stairs to the lower level of the clubhouse. I glanced at the time on my phone, surprised to notice that it was already after eight in the evening. Our nap lasted several hours. I didn’t mind. Rylee would sleep again when she was tired. I never had a problem with her keeping to a schedule once she was over a year old.
The bar was loud and crowded as I passed through, not making eye contact with anyone as I headed toward the kitchen. The prospect told me the truth. The fridge, which opened withFrench doors, was packed with food. Someone took the time to organize, prep, and prepare meals, which were stacked in clear containers. Fresh fruit and vegetables filled drawers along with various cheeses and sandwich ingredients. Best of all, they had the butter and cheese Rylee loved.
I pulled out what I needed and began assembling everything for several grilled cheeses, since Hannibal and Crypt might like one too. I ended up making six, then putting everything away. Since Rylee needed more than just grilled cheese for dinner, I cut up an apple, peeled an orange, and found a paper cup to fill with pretzels.
As I searched the kitchen for a tray, I opened the pantry, my jaw dropping at the shelves stacked with baking items, grains, cereals, and other necessities. Someone must stock this place from a warehouse like Costco, because everything was stored in bulk. I found cookies and granola bars, snagging a few to add to my tray as I loaded them on a small stack of paper plates and napkins.
The only thing I still needed was drinks. I loaded up a few water bottles, a Dr. Pepper for Hannibal, an iced tea for me, and a Sprite for Rylee because it always settled her stomach. The tray was heavy as I lifted it, but I didn’t have to go too far.
Or so I thought.
Halfway through the bar, I stumbled and nearly dropped the whole thing. I would have been pissed if that happened. An arm shot out to steady me, and I lifted my head to stare into the steel gray eyes of the man who once saved my life in a prison.
Crypt was back. He clucked his tongue at me and took the tray, ticking his chin toward the stairs. “Good thing I returned in time to save you from disaster.”
I had to smile. He wasn’t wrong. “Well, I thank you, and so do my tired arms.”
“Don’t lift heavy shit like that. Get help next time. Me, or one of the other members. Hell, even a prospect. None of us will mind.”
“Yes, sir,” I laughed, following him up the stairs.
“I’m serious. No need to get hurt.”
“I agree.”
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “How’s Rylee?”
“Awake. She had a nightmare.” I sighed, trying not to dwell on everything she suffered while those bastards my ex owed money to kept her from me. She didn’t look malnourished, so at least they fed her, but I didn’t know how this would affect her over time. I knew she would need therapy. I’d call for an appointment tomorrow.
“Sorry to hear that. Is she with Hannibal?”
“He’s keeping her snuggled until I get back.”
“That’s good.” Crypt stopped outside the door, and I reached for the handle. “Rachel?”
“Yes?”
“Grim and Hannibal will want to talk to you about the kidnapping. They want details about the men who took your daughter, their affiliations, and any risks the club needs to know about. It could bring heat on the club and their families.”
“I know. My priority is Rylee. I’ll talk to Grim when I’m ready.”
No one was going to push me to do anything before I took care of my daughter. Everything else could wait.
“I understand, babe. Just lettin’ you know so you’re prepared for that talk.”
“I appreciate it, Crypt.” I opened the door, and we entered, closing it behind us as Crypt set the tray on the table by the door. There were only two chairs, and he sat on one of them, focusing his attention on the bed where Hannibal and Rylee werewatching Transformers. “What happened to Barbie?” I asked as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“Grandpa said it was giving him an earache, so we switched to robots,” Rylee explained.
“They’re a lot more fun. Right, angel?”
She shrugged. “I still like Barbie better.”
Hannibal squeezed Rylee, kissing the top of her head.
