Page 31 of Lick

“Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

I rub my finger around the rim of the wine glass. When I lift my eyes to Savannah, I reveal my truth. “If he has the ability to open his heart to those two, then maybe he’ll have the capacity to open his heart to more.”

“To you?” She lifts her eyebrow.

“Maybe.” I shrug.

“Jenni, do you have a thing for Lick?”

I lift the glass to my lips and drain the rest of my wine. “He’s growing on me.”

“Hey, man, you got a minute?” I ask as I push through the office that Brass likes to do his thing in. At one time, it was Devin Sr.’s. A room usually reserved for the president of the club, but a place that Cut never wanted to make his.

“Sure, what’s up?” he asks as he brings his hands to the back of his head, leaning back in the chair.

I drop my ass into the chair that’s in front of his desk. “I need you to find a few people. Kids.”

“Go on.”

I crack my neck, trying to loosen the burning of tension that I’ve felt since our meeting with Maggie. Losing myself in sex hasn’t lessened the burden of trying to do right by people I have no desire to know or have in my life. But I get this tugging in my chest, and I’m not sure it will go away until I know they’re safe.

“My sister–”

“Betsy Sunshine McCoy, mother of four children. Three boys and one girl, ages fourteen, thirteen, eleven and six–”

“Why the fuck?”

Brass leans forward. “Listen, Lick. We’re a family, and family help each other. You think that Cut’s gonna let you go through all this shit alone?”

“I didn’t fucking ask for help.”

“I know, man, but if you finally do grow the balls and ask, we’ve already got you covered. Now, do you wanna know the info that I have?”

I nod, not wanting to know, but knowing that I need to know.

It’s been four days since I’ve seen Lick, and by seen I mean from a distance because he sure hasn’t attempted to talk to me or come near me. I’ve called Maggie trying to get any information on Ryder and Roxy, but she can’t tell me anything because I’m not family. Savannah knows nothing, stating Sin hasn’t confided in her. I’ve even paid Cut and Lily a visit, but no one seems to know anything.

“It’s quiet in here,” I announce to a few of The Fallen as I walk into the clubhouse. Twist and Poppy are lounging on the couch, and Scarlett is sitting on the floor next to the twins messing with her tablet. I know she’s an avid reader and loves to write song lyrics. Heather, the club bartender, is behind the bar washing glasses and tidying up.

The music is softly playing in the background, which is so, the total opposite of how it normally is when the guys are around, but they’re not here, so the women have taken over. The clubhouse is your typical biker looking place. It’s worn, rugged and no matter how many times women like Queenie try to soften up the place, it’s always just a biker’s hangout.

“The music’s a nice change, huh?” Heather asks with a smile as I take a seat on one of the barstools.

“Yeah, totally.”

The clubhouse isn’t normally my thing, but being here for almost six months I’ve had to find some ways to pass my downtime. These girls are good people. I know that when Savannah first arrived they weren’t on friendly terms, and I can see why. She was fresh meat, a nobody who caught Sin’s eye and took him out of the equation. She represented change to a system they were all used to. I have to say that I’ve even felt a shift since Kara, another of The Fallen, was killed. She was the ringleader, and these girls didn’t even so much as blink without her permission.

I’ve spent time outside of the club with these girls. We’ve had lunch. We’ve had our toes done. I’ve grown to care for these girls. My understanding towards people is one of the issues my father has with me which I never understood because The Bible states we shouldn’t judge others. How many times growing up did I hear my father preach on Matthew 7:1 Judge not, that ye be not judged. Nevertheless, it seemed he was always the most judgmental person. He wouldn’t agree with my friendship towards these women. He barely tolerated my friendship with Savannah.

“You want something to drink? Wine maybe?”

“Maybe something stronger?”

She cocks her brow but nods in understanding.

“How long are the guys gone for?” I ask, watching Heather pour several different types of alcohol together, shake them, and then empty them into a large shot glass in front of me.

“Not sure,” Scarlett says as she sits in the seat next to me. “I’m not even sure what they’re gone for.” She lifts her finger to Heather who starts to make the same drink again.