A deep rumbling growl from Creed brought me back to where my mind should be. Looking over at him, I saw in his black eyes that he knew. How I had no idea, but he did, I would bet my life on that.
“Creed, why are you growling?” Memphis huffed, pulling herself to her feet with the grace Memphis always exuded. “I swear my husband growls more than he speaks,” she complained to me, but her voice was soft as it always was when she talked about her man.
“Something to do with you about to go out into a room full of women dying to get their hands on a personally signed copy of your new book,” I hastily explained, still looking at Creed with a pleading expression. Whether he knew or not, I didn’t want to be the topic of conversation. I’d had that for years with group therapy, one on one sessions, interventions; you name it—I experienced it. I did not like to be seen, hence why I crept around the compound like a crazed stalker, thankful for the plants and abundance of hallways to steal away. Two months ago, Memphis asked me to take one of the rooms at the compound. With Creed leaving to do whatever in Queenscliff, it made sense to have me closer to her. Cole and Dane were gone, Chase too, and Zander was so busy with the Club and his little family, Memphis needed me with her. Willow, her daughter, was at uni and enjoying the social life that came with it. I was more than happy to move out of my grandparent’s home and stay at the compound while Memphis needed me.
Leading Memphis to Creed, I stood back and looked down at my shoes while they both said a temporary goodbye to each other. Not able to make out Creed’s deep rumbled words to his wife, but going by her giggles and moans, I got the impression he wasn’t talking to her about his son or me.
That familiar cold wave of doubt threatened to take over, and I quickly tucked my hand in my hoodie jacket pocket and searched for the thin piece of plastic I carried with me everywhere. The edges were starting to smoothen from hard to more rounded from years of holding it between my fingers and rubbing it. Sometimes I would do it only once a day, or sometimes when a memory triggered me, I never let it go.
To me, the cheap, generic hospital wrist band was what a sober coin was to an alcoholic. It was my prize, my last admission to the last eating clinic. From the age of thirteen to twenty, I had been in and out of clinics and institutions, but this band heralded my final visit. For close to three years, my battle with eating disorders has been somewhat behind me. My weight’s at an acceptable level; yes, I was still slight, but weighing forty-six kilograms was a damn sight better than my lowest at thirty-six kilos. Back then, I had been nothing but a bag of bones, living on water, lettuce, laxatives, and thyroid medication I swiped from my Nan.
And exercise. Lots and lots of exercise.
“Okay, Miss Oaklee, let’s jump in the deep end of the romance fans,” Memphis announced, halting the dangerous turn my mind was about to take. Thinking back on those dark nights when I would climb out my bedroom window to run after my grandparents retired to their rooms for the night did not belong here today.
“Let’s go then,” I shouted out overly brightly, but still I refused to look at Creed because I knew if I did, he would see right through me to my truth.
As soon as this day was over, I decided I needed a night out with my bestie, Thayer. If anyone can help me make sense of this latest mess I had landed myself in, it was her. Thayer was bold and brash and the complete opposite of me; she took no shit and dealt out plenty.
Yep, a night at the Bar and Grill with Thayer will make everything better.
CHAPTER FIVE
COLE
“You know Cole, when you said we should go for a ride, I thought we would be stopping to look at things along the way,” my sister, Willow, grumbled as she hobbled off my bike on shaky legs. Hiding my grin, I reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her while she got her land legs back again.
“You said you didn’t have time for a trip to the Gold Coast, so the Great Ocean Road was the next big thing,” I answered her, knowing that Willow was going to yell at me.
“Cole! I have ridden that road a billion times with one member of the Club or another, it was hardly the mini holiday I was expecting.” Her screech came back as expected.
“Hence why we didn’t stop to sightsee, only for fuel.”
Willow dropped her head, her long, blonde hair so much like our mum’s covering her face from me.
“Please, God, give me the strength not to strangle the men in my family, starting with this one,” her growled prayer, making me smirk.
“What’s wrong, Low? Is the old man giving you a hard time?” I asked, but already knew the answer. Dad shadowed Willow much the same as he did our mum; having four sons and only one daughter meant Creed Stephens got a little protective and a whole lot alpha when it came to his baby girl.
“Cole, this is not funny!” Willow whined, adding a stomp of her foot. “Daddy is there every time I look over my shoulder! I can’t do anything or talk to anyone without Dad growling somewhere in the background.”
Sitting on my bike while Willow paced back and forth in the parking lot, her booted feet kicking gravel every few steps.
“I can’t handle it, Cole. When Chase was home, it was at least bearable, but he is in Alaska fishing or
