Page 22 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
Even their clothes were gone.
Like they’d never been there at all.
The door opened, and Hawk and Diesel walked in.
Diesel carried a tray of bagels, cream cheese, and orange juice. He set it on the table and stepped back. “Thought you might be hungry.”
I waited for more.
Waited for Colt to come in behind them and crack a joke.
When he didn’t, I stood and walked to the chair. “Is Colt okay?”
Diesel’s face didn’t change, but I swore I saw regret in his eyes.
He stayed put behind Hawk, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance.
“Colt disappears sometimes, but he always comes back.” Hawk motioned at the tray. “You should eat.”
“Is that an order?” I tried to smile, but the ache in my chest prevented it.
Hawk shifted his weight to his heels and glanced at Diesel. “We need to have a chat. It’ll be easier if you’ve had something to eat.”
“Why? Bad news doesn’t go down better because I have a full stomach.” Usually, the opposite was true. “What’s the problem?”
“Last night can’t happen again. What we did here was a one-time thing.” Hawk steadied himself and crossed his arms, becoming the imposing leader everyone sidestepped. “You know that we’re allowed to pick what we call an Old Lady.” He waited for my nod before continuing. “That’s the problem. We’re each allowed one. We are not allowed to have the same one.”
My fuzzy brain took its time working through what he was trying to say.
Diesel nudged Hawk with his elbow and dipped his head toward me.
“The bylaws demand that you pick one of us or belong to the patch itself by picking none of us.” He nudged the tray toward me.
The smell of bread hit the back of my throat and I put a hand over my mouth to stop the upward rush of bile.
Did this mean they would have chosen me if they could?
No one ever had. I framed the question but chickened out before I could ask. “That makes sense.” I stood, shrugged out of the robe, and pulled on my clothes.
They watched me without offering to help, and for one brief moment, I considered throwing myself at them and begging.
What if I wanted to choose one of them?
It would be easier to catch a fish in Alaska with my teeth.
My chest caved with every article of clothing I put on, and by the time I’d zipped up my boots and straightened my braid, I almost lost the battle with my emotions.
Diesel continued to look past me, like he couldn’t stand the sight of me. “We want you to stay.”
The words were so far away from the look on his face that I almost missed what he said.
No one stayed. Not for me. I was good enough for one night and nothing else.
I locked my jaw and tucked the gold chain beneath my shirt.
I’d held on to it since Mom gave it to me for my eighth birthday. It was the piece of my dad I had left, and I’d never taken it off.
Diesel’s attention swiveled and locked onto me. His hands flexed and his eyes flashed. It flickered and died an instant later.
