I’m not ready for all of that. I had a special bond with another person already and that didn’t stop us from falling apart.
“I can’t let this go. This pain is what I have left to hold on to. She’s all I have left in this world that’s part of me.”
He’s standing there still as a statue. He showed me his heart and I stomped on it. I don’t know what to say to fix the awkwardness between us.
“It’s okay, Lizzie. I’m not trying to make this harder on you.”
He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends off a quick message. “Done. I texted Lee to come by with your car. He should be here in ten. When you’re ready, come on over to the club and I’ll hook you up with Router.” He grabs his jacket and turns to go. My heart beats faster and faster as panic begins to build, until it erupts in my chest. He’s walking away from me; I pushed and now that he’s walking away, there isn’t anything I can do about it. This isn’t the way I wanted this conversation to end.
I yank out one of the stools and sit at the island to pull myself together. I can’t fall apart now.
When the doorbell rings, I’m ready to end my private pity party and get my shit together, so I don’t have another episode when I meet Brayden’s friend. A big guy stands outside the door. “Lizzie. You’re all taken care of.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Keys are inside.” I grab the garage opener and make sure I lock the door behind me. The clubhouse is fifteen minutes from here in decent traffic. That doesn’t give me much time to figure out what the hell I’m going to say when I see Brayden again face-to-face.
I drive on autopilot, not remembering how I manage to get myself here. The lump in my throat is back. I’m unsure of how Brayden will respond when he sees me. Maybe he’s had enough time to get over the hurt I caused. Before I make it to the door, he walks out to meet me halfway.
“You feeling better?” he asks me out of genuine concern, which makes me feel even more like an asshole.
“No, but I’m getting there.”
“Good,” he says with a nod.
A beautiful woman walks up next to him and he embraces her in a big hug. I’m guessing this is Router. She’s an eyeful. Definitely not what I was expecting. She’s a young, beautiful blonde, with a body that looks like she stepped off the cover of a magazine.
“Router, this is Lizzie. Lizzie, this is Router, our IT/computer goddess. Now that the intros are done, I’ll let you guys get to it.” I reach out to touch his arm and he steps out of my reach.
“Brayden.” My voice cracks when I say his name. But he doesn’t acknowledge me.
“Come on back here with me, Lizzie.”
“I appreciate you helping me.”
“I’m not doing this for you. Brayden’s family. I’d do anything to help him out.”
I can’t help but wonder if the two of them have some sort of history as well. Nope. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter if they spent the weekend fucking each other’s brains out. She’s the key to get me from point A to B.
“IT and computer hacking skills can land you a lucrative career. How did you end up here?” I don’t mean to, but my tone lets my privilege show just a little bit.
“You know motorcycle clubs started back when disillusioned World War II veterans came home looking for a free way of living life, right?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, I kind of have a thing for history.”
“How long have you known Brayden?” I hate myself for being such a girl, but I need to know.
Router moves into the room and sits down, sliding her chair, centering herself in the middle of the desk. Her fingers don’t stop gliding along the keyboard. “Long enough to know that he’s feeling something real for you.” Her words put me at ease, knowing that there’s something more to this attraction where he’s concerned. It’s not just physical. I’m finding myself unprepared to deal with these feelings I’m beginning to have as well.
“Wow, this is some setup,” I say, looking around at everything. She’s set up more than just a command post. With all the equipment she could rival a counter intelligence agency. She’s set up like command center for NASA. She’s got two big screens in front of her, with desks off to the side, with still more screens used for surveillance of other locations. She flicks on the dual screens in front of her, and a series of letters and numbers flash across the screens.
“All right, I’m officially open for business.”
“I need you to look at something for me,” I say to her, handing over my phone. She takes a cord and plugs it in from my phone to a box-like piece of equipment on the side of the keyboard.
“Where did you get this information from?”
“Some African American guy, roughly five ten, give or take. Thin build. Horrible skin. Definitely a meth addict. He reeked of it. Definitely not a professional. There was no way he could have afforded the van he drove or known how to get the video.” I pause for a moment recounting that meeting. “Funny thing was, he said he knew a reward was out for information about my sister. When he hit me up for payment and he settled for a C-note. The amount of the reward was ten grand.”
“Interesting. I’ll keep
