Page 90 of Devil’s Disciples

“I can’t wait.”

“You’ll see through their actions.” He reached for his coffee. “Couple of ‘em aren’t keen on talking. But you’ll see by what they do and how they act that we’re noting but six brothers who share a few common bonds.”

I hoped he was right. My guess was that although they might eventually warm up to me, the process would be slow.

Very slow.

After interrupting their schedule, taking one of their men’s time, and then stealing his heart, I couldn’t see them welcoming me with open arms any time soon. I took the last bite of my egg and recalled Mort’s words of wisdom.

We can’t let what might happen keep us from doing what our heart tells us is right.

That simple phrase was I needed to remember.

37

Baker

Two weeks of Saturday night dates and Sunday morning breakfasts had the men questioning my sanity. None questioned my loyalty, or my devotion, but side-eyed looks had become the norm in the clubhouse.

I realized for the men to accept Andy as a whole – or in part – would require that they see her express loyalty and devotion. Then, in time, trust would develop. When they trusted her, she’d be treated no differently than one of the men.

I feared the day was so far in the distance that I couldn’t quite grasp it.

“Trust goes a long way with the men,” I said. “A long, long way. When they trust you, you’ll see a huge difference. It’s just going to take time.”

“Trust goes a long way with everyone.” She twisted her hair into a bun and then checked it in the mirror. “If there’s no trust, even having a friendship is difficult.”

“I’m glad you feel that way.” I put on my hat and then looked at her. Dressed in a sleeveless black dress and pair of heels I didn’t recognize, she looked marvelous. I nodded toward the four-inch heels. “New shoes?”

She smiled. “They are. Sale rack shoes. They were one-fifty, marked down to thirty-five. I get lots of sale options because nobody has feet this big. Drag queens, maybe. I love shoes. It’s so bad, I might have a problem.”

“I like your feet. If they were any smaller, you’d tip over if you leaned forward.” I chuckled. “How much time?”

Her expression went from a stink eye to a smile. “Just a few minutes. Why are we leaving so early again?”

“Again? I never said. Just get ready, and you’ll see.” I kissed her. “I’ll be in the living room.”

“Okay.”

Bitter End, by Blind Pilot was playing when I walked into the living room. A song that made me yearn to have a father in my life, it typically ground against my nerves. I walked to the window, clenched my jaw, and peered out at the street.

Saturday afternoons were slightly different than the weekdays, as the people who worked up and down the block were no longer parked along the curb. Most of the spaces were occupied by patrons of the coffee shop and several pubs that served lunch.

A row of four Harleys was parked in front of the coffee shop. Inside, the small group of riders from a national Christian MC were having church. Unlike many of the one percent clubs that peered down their noses at clubs that didn’t claim the outlaw way of life, Devil’s Disciples accepted all bike clubs as having the potential of being equal.

My eyes scanned the street. As the song ended, I turned toward the bedroom. After a few steps, goosebumps raised on my upper arms. I hesitated, turned toward the window, and took another look.

A black Dodge Charger with tinted windows sat at the curb across the street. It was the same Dodge Charger I’d seen a few weeks prior, I was sure of it. The windows were too dark for me to see inside, but the black steel wheels that had replaced the standard aluminum alloy versions led me to believe my suspicions were correct.

He was the man who was interested enough in my life to invade my home.

Just wait, motherfucker.

I’m coming for you.

Pride took over, and I instinctively raised my middle finger high enough for him to see it. Before I lowered my hand, he provided all the proof I needed.

He pulled away from the curb and drove away.