“If I remember correctly, you were shit at a ruckus,” Trigger chided, throwing a dishtowel at Hawke. “Edana always caught your ass.”
“That she did.” Hawke laughed, but the sound quickly faded, a hazy look shadowing his eyes before his smile slipped.
“Speaking of,” Trigger started. “Where is your ol’ lady?”
“In Florida, visiting her sister. When Marek called and told me he wanted me here for a bit, I didn’t want to leave her alone, not knowing exactly how long all this was gonna take.”
“Well, tell her I asked about her.”
Hawke tipped the head of his bottle toward Trigger and nodded. The mood seemed to have switched, resembling something somber, that was until Rez spoke up.
“We still have ’em,” he said. “A ruckus is called for every now and again.”
“Lucky bastard,” Hawke and Tripp responded simultaneously.
“Why did we stop?” I asked, wondering why our club hadn’t thrown one since I’d been part of the Knights. Come to think of it, I didn’t ever remember the word ruckus ever uttered before.
“Before the war with the Reapers ended, we chose any excuse possible to throw one, realizing our lives could end at the drop of a hat. Live like tomorrow’s not promised and all that shit,” Hawke answered. “But then after we got rid of the threat, there really wasn’t a reason to have one. Besides, all these fuckers,” he said, pointing around the clubhouse even though there wasn’t anyone else present beside us, “all wound up gettin’ pussy-whipped and didn’t want to have anything to do with the club whores anymore.”
“And boy were those chicks disappointed.” Trigger laughed. “I had to do what I could to keep ‘em happy.” It was odd and unlike Trigger to talk so freely, and about sex of all things. But I supposed I couldn’t fault the guy. He wanted it like the rest of us did.
“I can’t listen to your old ass talk about that anymore,” Hawke groaned. “Grab me another.” He slid his second empty bottle toward the resident bartender.
Lost to idle chitchat, I didn’t realize my sister had walked in until I saw Rez turn in his seat and whistle, drawing my and Kaden’s attention. When we followed his line of sight and realized he was whistling at Riley, I hopped off my stool and stood in front of Kaden, who had stood as well, glaring at Rez.
“Who is that?” Rez asked, licking his lips and probably thinking some sordid shit about my sister.
“My woman,” Kaden growled. When our visitor finally looked at my buddy, he threw up his hands but not before smirking.
“You’re one lucky bastard.”
“Hey, babe.” Riley strode up to Kaden and kissed him, looking at me afterward, then at Rez. “Hi.” She extended her hand. “I’m Riley. Kaden’s girlfriend and Linc’s sister.” She seemed to be in a better mood than she projected over the phone. Apparently, whatever disagreement she’d had with Kaden had been put on the back burner or extinguished altogether.
He returned her greeting, thankfully not holding on to her hand any longer than was typical. “Rez. I’m visiting from Laredo.” Cocking his head, he studied her for a second. “Wait. Are you the VP’s daughter?”
“Yeah,” she answered tentatively.
Then Rez’s gaze danced over Kaden, and he laughed before he said, “Your pops has a temper. We heard about what happened when he found out you two were shackin’ up.”
Kaden bristled with anger, but Riley appeared composed. “You guys are worse than women with the way you all gossip.” She shook her head before leaning into Kaden, essentially calming the waters before they drowned in tension. “I have a bag of clothes in the car,” she said, looking at me. “Can you grab them? Then we’ll go see Maddie.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” The entire walk to her car, all I could think about was making Maddie happy, if only for a little while. And I hoped my gift to her would be enough to make her smile.
27
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Have you ever been on one before?” Lincoln asked, twisting around to look at me, his sunglasses shielding his eyes. He sat on his bike with his helmet in place, so I couldn’t readily see if he was upset with my hesitation to hop on behind him.
“Once. When Pike took me for a ride… back to his club.” The memory seemed like a lifetime ago, yet gave me the chills because it had been less than a year.
His left hand rested on the handlebar, his fingers squeezing tightly when I mentioned the Reaper. I didn’t want to upset him, but I didn’t want to lie to him either. If we were going to forge ahead in whatever relationship there was to be between us, I shouldn’t be afraid to tell him the truth, no matter how much he might not want to hear it. I was sure there would be plenty of times when I wouldn’t want to answer, but if I’d been taught anything growing up, it was never to lie.
Nothing good had ever been born from dishonesty.
“Do you trust me?” He reached for my hand.
“Yes.” And I did, without reservation.
“Then come on.” I slid my palm into his, steadied myself, and swung my leg over the bike. “Put your feet right here,” he said, reaching back and helping me. “Then scoot forward more. Yeah, right there. Now I need you to put this on.” He handed me a black helmet, but mine was a full-face one, whereas his only covered his head. Once I clicked the strap under my chin, I rested my hands on my lap. Turning over the engine startled me, even though I saw him switch the position of the key. The deep rumbling both frightened and thrilled me, a mixture of emotions I’d never experienced
