"Thanks," he said, taking it and shrugging it on. He rolled his shoulders to settle the leather and I watched him transform back into the man the club knew, and the one I knew I couldn’t have.
"I'm sorry about Andy," I told him again, having already texted him an apology. "He had no right to come out there with a gun."
"He had every right. It's his property and his sister." Garret adjusted the collar of the cut but didn't look at me. "How much longer are you going to be in town?"
The question stung more than it should have. I couldn’t tell if he was wanting me to leave or if he was hoping I’d be around longer. "I don't know. We have to stay until Dad passes and his things are settled. Could be weeks, could be longer." I toed one of the old roots from the tall oak tree that had gotten exposed over the years by rain erosion.
He nodded but he clenched his jaw. I couldn't tell if the news made him unhappy or if it was still lingering anger over Andy and being chased off. The yoyo in my chest spun again, pulling me toward him and pushing me back in the same rotation it had been running since the night on the diner steps.
"Why are you asking?"
He was quiet for a second, choosing his words. "Things are heating up with the Locusts. There's talk of some moves being made that could turn this whole town upside down, and if it goes the way I think it's going to go, it won't be safe for anyone who isn't patched in."
"You're trying to get me to leave?" The way my chest clenched made it hard to breathe. He really was trying to get rid of me.
"Sara, I'm not telling you what to do. I'm telling you that the situation with the Locusts could blow up any day, and I'd hate it if you or your family got caught in the middle of something that's got nothing to do with you."
I crossed my arms and held his stare. "I appreciate the warning, Garret, but I've been taking care of myself for four years without anyone looking out for me, and I'm strong enough to handle whatever happens in this town."
"I know you are. That's not what I'm saying." He ran a hand over his face and took a step toward me, but I was confused and somewhat hurt. I was dumb for letting him kiss me that first night. I knew the feelings I had for him were too strong and they'd take me over, and now here I was wishing he'd just kiss me and tell me he wanted me. But he was doing the opposite.
Garret didn't have the decency to answer me. His head dropped, eyes averted, and his shoulders slumped, just like they had when my brother pointed that gun at him and told him to leave. Where was the badass biker who beat people up and stood his ground? The least he could do was fight me, not leaving me standing here in limbo wondering what on earth was happening.
"I have to go," I said, "Andy's waiting."
I turned, walking past him toward the parking lot but my toe caught on one of those old branches, and I pitched forward. My hands went out to catch myself, but Garret was faster. His arm hooked around my waist and pulled me upright before I hit the ground, and suddenly I was pressed against his chest with his arm locked around me and his face inches from mine.
He was so close I could feel his breath on my lips. His arm was solid and warm around my waist and his hand was splayed across the small of my back, holding me steady. It made my knees go weak and my pulse flutter. I clung to him for a moment, knowing if he let me go I'd just stumble again. And I wanted him to kiss me.
I wanted him to forget the foolish business of motorcycle clubs and feuds. And I wanted to put Tony’s threats out of my head and let myself go, breakdown and tell him everything about Kip.
I tilted my face up and his eyes dropped to my mouth and I could feel the pull between us tightening between us until I thought it would snap. But the back door opened and Andy stepped out.
"Sara?" He stopped when he saw us. His eyes went from Garret's arm around my waist to the cut on his back to my face, and his expression soured into a glare. "Let go of my sister and walk away."
Garret held me for one more second. Then he eased me upright and made sure I had my balance before he released me. He wasn't scared of Andy, but I could see the respect he had for me and my father in his eyes as he righted me. I could cry. Why couldn't he see how much I loved him when he clearly felt the same way about me?
"Get your ankle looked at," he said quietly. "It could swell."
"Garret," I protested, reaching for him, but he turned and walked toward the far end of the lot where his bike was parked. He didn't look back. He mounted up and kicked the engine to life and rode out onto the road, and I stood there on a throbbing ankle and watched him go, feeling my heart crack down the middle.
"Let's go," Andy said from the doorway. His voice was stern but he didn't yell this time. "Dad's waiting."
I stood there for a few more seconds after the back door swung shut and slapped against the frame and then the tears came.
I was in love with him. I was desperately, stupidly, irreversibly in love with a man I could never have, because hidden away at my parents' house was a three-year-old boy with his face, and telling Garret the truth would crush him.
And now my brother knew the truth, or at least part of it.
20
GARRET
Fox's bike needed new plugs, a fresh oil change, and a chain adjustment that was long overdue. The man hadn't ridden in weeks and the machine showed it, covered in dust and leaking from the gasket where oil had been sitting too long.
Fox himself was in worse shape than the bike. He sat in a folding chair near the workbench with a bottle of whiskey between his knees and his eyes half closed, mumbling something about a poker game from years ago that nobody else remembered. He'd been drunk since nine in the morning, which was early even for him, and his words ran together when he spoke.
"You need anything while I'm under here?" I asked, pulling the drain plug and letting the oil pour into the pan.
