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I turn and she’s still wearing that adorably sexy sleep set. “Nope. Ms. Stealthy up there broke into the bedroom. I woke up to her staring down at me like a little gargoyle.”
“Oh. She knows how to pop the doors open.” She laughs, making her braless tits jiggle. “Sorry.”
My mouth waters.
“Mrrrawr.” Gretel leaps onto the couch, then the floor, where she scurries over to Margot and twirls around her legs—in what I’m starting to think is her “feed me” dance.
“I, uh, overslept a little.” She gestures toward her bedroom. “I need to get dressed. I have a family coming in at nine.”
Damn. I had a few other things in mind. “Yeah, okay. I gotta get downstate and start packing.”
“How much can you really take on your bike?”
“You’d be surprised. But someone will be driving a van or a truck to haul extra shit.”
Her eyes spark with interest. “Who drives it?”
I need to get closer to her. “A prospect usually or someone else affiliated with the club. If it’s a big family run, the girls will sometimes take an SUV with the kids.”
“So the old ladies don’t always have to ride on the back?”
Why’s she asking? My chest tightens. Is she asking because she thinks that because she doesn’t ride, that’s a deal-breaker for me?
“No one has to do anything they don’t want to. Most of them do, though.” I snort with laughter. “Heidi says after a few hours in the car with the kids, she’s ready to ride. So, they’ll take turns and stuff. Or we went down to Virginia last Christmas and the girls rode in Trinity’s Jeep the whole way—Shelby said it was too cold to ride.” I shrug. “We make it work.”
I want to ask her why she’s so curious, why it matters so much to her.
But I’m also afraid of the answer.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jigsaw
Digger’s memorial has been a shitshow waste of our time. Cops canceled the memorial, so all the charters came to Deadbranch for one big circle jerk at the clubhouse before we all head to a local hotel for the night. The next morning, we’re all meeting in Rock’s room before our big sit-down with our national prez, when I get a text from Jezzie.
Princess PITA: Stuck in Bridlewood, PA. Can you pick me up?
What the fuck? Why is my sister in fucking Pennsylvania when she’s supposed to be in class? I pull up the town on my maps app, it’s not even close to our aunt’s house but it is close to the New York border.
Who the fuck am I gonna call to go get her?
Me: I’m down in Tennessee. Are you okay?
She takes way too fucking long to answer for my sanity. Thumbs frantically flicking against my screen, I open up the “where’s my phone” app, where the little dot indicates she is indeed somewhere in bumfuck Pennsylvania.
Still no answer.
“What’s wrong?” Rooster whispers to me.
“I might need to bounce ASAP. Jezzie needs me.”
“Fuck, brother.” He runs his hands through his hair and flicks a glance at the door. “Priest sent me a message earlier. He needs me to stick around after the meeting.”
“Fucking hell, why?”
“Don’t know. But I don’t want you riding alone.”
“Thanks, Dad, but I think I’ll be fine.”
