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Angel’s Claim

Page 4

by Zoey Rose

"You really just passing through?" he asks.

I hesitate. The truth is I don't know. I don't have a plan. I don't have anywhere to go. I just knew I couldn't stay.

"I don't know," I admit. "Maybe. I just… I needed to get away."

"From what?"

I almost laugh. "Everything."

He doesn't push. Doesn't ask follow-up questions, demand details or tell me I'm being dramatic. He just nods, like he understands completely.

"You eaten today?" he asks.

I try to remember. There was supposed to be a bridal brunch this morning, but I was too nauseous to eat. Before that, I don't know. Toast, maybe, yesterday?

"Not really," I admit.

Angel glances toward the bar, then back at me. "You like pancakes?"

I blink. "What?"

"Pancakes. Do you like them?"

"I—yes?"

"Good." He stands up and walks toward the bar before I can say anything else.

I watch him go, confused. The bar doesn't look like the kind of place that serves pancakes. It barely looks like the kind of place that serves food at all, just baskets of fries and maybe wings if you're lucky.

Angel leans against the bar and says something to the woman with short gray hair, the same one who served me earlier. She looks at him, then glances past him toward me, and I see her expression soften slightly.

She says something back. Angel replies. She shakes her head, but she's smiling now, and then she disappears through a door behind the bar that I assume leads to a kitchen.

Angel returns to the booth and slides back into his seat.

"She's making pancakes," he says.

"She—what?"

"Pancakes. She'll have them out in about ten minutes."

I stare at him. "This bar serves pancakes?"

"Not usually." His mouth twitches again. "But she owes the club a favor."

"The club?"

"Iron Phoenix. The MC I prospect for." He says it like it's obvious. "Had some trouble here about a month ago. A couple of out-of-towners giving her and her staff a hard time, wouldn't leave when she asked. A few of the brothers came down and made sure they understood the message."

"And now she makes pancakes for you?"

"For Iron Phoenix, yeah. We look out for the people in this town. They look out for us."

I don't know what to say to that. The idea of a motorcycle club protecting local businesses sounds like something out of a movie, but the way he says it makes it sound like the most normal thing in the world.

"That's—" I stop. "That's actually really nice."

Angel shrugs. "It's what we do."