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I’ll let her go thinking that I’m not gonna do shit, because I know for a fact that she’s not going to Mississippi alone. Or with just Halo. Or this ‘team’ she speaks of which I think is a load of shit. Estelle has a way of making sure everyone around her believes that she’s tough, and trust me, it’s believable. But I know better. I can’t put my finger on how, but I know that she’s hiding something and I want to know what it is. Did someone do a number on her?
It’s more than just finding her sister. There’s a sadness hanging over her because of that, and it’s affecting every aspect of her life.
I can’t say I’ve had a bad life. I’d be lying. My childhood was great. I had loving parents and my only qualm is I never saw my dad much because he worked a lot. My parents grew apart. When they said they were getting divorced, I knew it was coming. I wish I could see my dad more, or that he’d be happier about my choices in life. The one thing I always wanted was to hear that he was proud of me. But I never have. I didn’t follow in his footsteps of being a lawyer; I couldn’t imagine anything worse. When I dropped out of college he was disappointed, and when I joined the MC he thought I’d lost my mind. My mom did too, but she came around. Now she loves the club.
Star waves a hand in front of my face, breaking me from my reverie. “Thought I’d lost you there for a second.”
I shake my head. “It’s nothin’.”
She gives me that same look that says she doesn’t believe me. It’s a look I’m starting to know well. “You gettin’ all sentimental on me?” When my eyes meet hers, her smile fades. I don’t know what she sees, but she blurts out, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m good.” I give her a lazy smile, but she ain’t buying it. She narrows her eyes and I motion towards the door. “Pumpkin time.”
I dodge a punch in the guts from Riot and walk the girls through the clubhouse. I need to make sure she gets in her truck safely, not that there’s anything to worry about within these walls, but my momma raised me right.
“I had a nice time.” Halo, who didn’t just get fucked like a rabid beast, claps her hands together. “It’s been ages since we went anywhere.”
“What do you do in Star’s business?” I ask. I’ve done my homework, I know she works for Star.
“I run the office, take calls and set up meetings, that kinda thing.”
“She organizes my life,” Star retorts. “And she’s damn good at her job.”
I scratch my chin. “So when did you both decide to become Charlie’s Angels?”
Halo giggles. Star shoves me in the shoulder. “Very funny.”
“I’m serious.”
With Halo up ahead a little further, Star drops her voice. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”
I frown. “Do what?”
She points between us. “This. Be this nice. We both got what we wanted, right? And it’s out of our systems now.”
I’m not slow, but I’m not following. “Was what we just did your way of tellin’ me we’re doomed before I even get a shot?”
“A shot at what?” she whisper-shouts.
“Us!”
“You can’t be serious?”
I’m a little insulted, to be honest. I thought she’d be begging me to do this all again tomorrow. “You know, you say that a lot. I should call you John Fuckin’ McEnroe.”
“I meant, you’re a biker. You get a lot of women. Easily, judging by your looks.” It could be me, but I’m sure her gaze darts down quickly to my crotch. “And we banged. So you can brag to all of your fellow bikers about what we did. That’s what you all do, right?”
“You’re makin’ an awful lot of assumptions about me, Estelle. Would it surprise you to learn that I haven’t slept with anyone since the night I met you at the Whiskey Straight?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “That was?—”
“Three weeks, fourteen hours and six minutes.” I flick my wrist to check my watch. “And thirty-eight seconds ago.”
“A world record for you?”
“It’s been longer, actually, but that’s when I saw you last. I knew I didn’t want any other woman, Star. You had me from hello.”
She laughs and for the first time, her eyes crinkle at the sides. It’s one of the few times she’s let her guard down and I like it. I know this woman doesn’t need saving, and I’m not that guy, but something tells me that she’s had to stand on her own two feet for quite some time. Call it a gut instinct. “You watch too much TV.”
