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“Yep. Sounds about right. Give me an address. I’m on my way.”
I carefully closed Siana’s door when I was done.
She was going to have to come back, to file a police report, to see the damage for herself. But there was no one to say it had to be today. She could easily say she was staying with a friend after the trauma of the shootout. The cops would buy that.
She needed one night of somewhat normal before she had to face this shit.
Seeley pulled up twenty minutes later in the club’s SUV.
“Do I want to know what all this is?”
“Short story is a girl I know’s neighbor was shot up last night. She saw the guys on the way out; they made a nonverbal threat. Today, she saw them show up again, and bolted to see me. I came to investigate. And they fucking tossed and destroyed all her shit.”
“And now she’s going to be staying with you,” he said, helping me load the shit into the trunk. “When are theSave the Dateshitting mailboxes?” he asked, smirking at me.
“Things are… new,” I said. Because some part of me didn’t want to insist that we were just friends. When, clearly, I wanted more than that.
“Got it,” he said, tossing me the keys. “You want to keep the SUV, or have me meet you at your house?”
“I’ll keep it for now,” I said, thinking about Siana’s anxieties, and thinking it might be hard to get her on my bike. Besides, we couldn’t take her dog without the SUV either.
“Alright,” he said, taking my keys. “What’s her name?”
“Siana,” I told him.
“Good to know. And the dog? Remy’s going to ask,” he said, smirking.
“Frida.”
He nodded at that, then made his way back to Golden Glades on my bike.
I hopped in the SUV, and headed home, trying to figure out exactly how to break the news to her.
By the time I pulled up, I still hadn’t decided.
But I grabbed all the shit out of the back, then made my way inside.
I’d figure it out on the fly.
And try like hell not to sound too happy about her staying with me for a night or two.
CHAPTER TEN
Siana
I mean… I had to snoop around, right?
Left all alone in his house with nothing else to do, with the instructions to settle in?
It was just what people did.
Not just people who were harboring a secret little crush on hot bikers.
The house wasn’t huge, but definitely was a case of ‘bigger on the inside.’
And, yeah, it desperately needed work that—judging by all the supplies strewn about—he was clearly working on.
But it had good bones.
