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Harper blinked, and I wondered momentarily if she would curl up and cry, when, suddenly, she threw a handful of soil in my hair.
We both laughed as I hurled some in return, and we began launching it at each other.
Isla hissed as she received a face full of dirt where Harper misaimed, and we stared, wondering what she’d do.
Isla’s screwed-up expression hinted at a possible tantrum, which would have been welcome. Instead, Isla scooped up a handful and threw it straight at Harper. Before we knew it, we were all rolling around in the yard, throwing soil everywhere and laughing.
Savage
Curiously, I peeked over the fence. The laughter had roused my interest, as it was usually quiet next door. I was amused when I saw Grace, Harper, and Isla launching dirt at one another. All three were giggling and having a great time, and a warm feeling settled in my stomach. The three of them were so silent that this noise level was surprising.
A smile crossed my face as I watched them finally act like a family. But even in their merriment, I couldn’t help but notice they were muted. It wasn’t loud like the Hellions. My gut tightened as their quiet joy seemed to confirm all the other signals I had seen of an abused family.
That was the one thing I wouldn’t stand for: abuse. Whether male or female or vice versa or same sex, it was all the same. I’d no worries about beating down an abuser, something that Drake had taken my pulse on when I’d joined.
Phoe had texted me telling me to bring Grace and the girls to a cookout tonight, and I told her to contact Grace herself. Then I received a message from Drake ordering me to do as Phoe asked, and I sent a sharp reply about his meddling wife. Drake had replied with a smiley emoji—fuckin’ shock that Drake knew what they were—and then said that if Phoe was concentrating on me, she was leaving him alone. Bastard.
I had planned on attending the cookout and then crashing in my bed at the clubhouse. Now, I guessed I would be expected to ensure Grace and the kids got home okay.
Wonderful.
If it wasn’t obvious from Phoe, I’d also had other messages from the old ladies. They were in match-making mode. My reply had stated that Ghost and Slate were still single and to leave me the hell alone. Most had sent laughing emojis back.
With the girls next door so clearly enjoying themselves, I walked into my kitchen to make some lunch and decided to speak to them in a bit.
???
“Hey,” I called over the fence an hour later.
Grace and the kids looked up. They were planting flowers and shit and had cleaned up the evidence of their fight.
“Hi,” Grace said and offered me a puzzled stare. I didn’t blame her. It’s not as if I sought her out.
“Phoe texted and told me to tell you there’s a cookout at Rage. She’s invited you and the girls.”
“Oh,” Grace replied and looked surprised. “I had plans.”
“You got Phoe’s number, yeah? Send her a message,” I suggested.
“Thank you, Savage; it’s kind of you to invite me, but the girls come first,” Grace said apologetically.
“Not me, it was Phoe,” I responded before thinking and winced at the look on Grace’s face. It was as if I’d slapped her.
“Thanks.” Grace cut any further conversation short and gathered up the youngsters, herding them indoors.
Isla offered me a shy smile and wave, and I lamely waved back.
Grace
There was no explanation for this apparent insanity, I decided as I drove to the Rage garage. Phoe said their clubhouse was behind the walls surrounding the garage.
I’d done as Savage had suggested and messaged Phoe, only to be bombarded until I agreed to attend the cookout. And it wasn’t just Phoe. All of the old ladies I met also sent messages. Eventually, I said we’d go for an hour.
Phoe had told me to bring swimsuits, as they had a large swimming pool that was heated. She also advised that I bring a suit or bikini, as they had several hot tubs at Rage, but that was a step too far.
My figure was slim, but I had a belly still. The little baby bump that never flattened. I liked my legs and hated my stomach and ass. My boobs were a decent size, just a handful, but enough to keep a guy happy.
Not that it mattered. There’d be no man for the rest of my life.
