Cross furrowed his brows. “What the hell is it?”
All their attention turned to Cleo. When she lived at the clubhouse, the majority of deliveries were addressed to her.
Cleo shrugged. “I don’t know. Everything I order goes straight to my house. And I’m not expecting anything.”
Ace stood, walking through the room. “This sounds like a fucking ambush.”
Yeah, it does.
“You bring it in but only halfway up the driveway. Not gonna blow up our fucking clubhouse.”
Joker gave a curt nod. “Should I let him drive it in?”
“No, motherfucker.”
He widened his eyes and spread out his arms. “But it’s attached to his truck.”
“Then take the fucking truck,” Ace snapped.
Cross and the others walked out. He heard Wraith give Cleo a clear warning to stay inside. They made their way down the driveway as the prospect was pulling up with the truck. The trailer was just big enough to hold its contents, which was covered in a tarp.
Joker jumped out of the driver’s side and hopped up on the trailer, slowly pulling off the covering. Every muscle in his body tightened when he saw the bike. It was old and obviously restored. He’d seen a few on the road but mostly from pictures Knox had shared with him.
A sharp gasp from behind caught all their attention. It was no surprise Cleo didn’t listen to Wraith’s order. She was standing a few feet behind them with her eyes trained on the motorcycle.
“What the hell is this?” Wraith asked, but it took her a minute to answer. She was completely mesmerized with the bike. Her eyes welled slightly, and a small smile emerged. She slowly lifted her hand, pointing to the trailer.
“That’s a” —her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, smiling— “That’s a sixty-nine BMW bike, isn’t it?”
Yes, it is.Knox must’ve shared with Cleo too. Cross turned back to the trailer. Cue had moved closer, leaning over the railing, inspecting.
“Yeah.”
Cross had never been into antique bikes. He loved his and could do most repairs, but rebuilding an old classic was never his thing. But it was Knox’s. In fact, this was the exact bike he’d talked about for years.
“It’s Knox’s bike,” she said.
“Where’d you find this, Cleo?” Cue asked.
“I didn’t,” she whispered.
While most of the brothers moved toward the trailer, Cross walked toward Cleo with Ace sidled up next to him. Joker jogged up the driveway and handed Cross a small slip of paper.
“It’s for you, man.”
He unfolded it.
To Cross…from Addison.
He read it twice then glanced up at the bike. Cross was confused and couldn’t quite wrap his head around her giving him a bike, let alone Knox’s dream motorcycle.
“It’s a gift.” Cleo smiled as her eyes welled.
“From who?” Ace asked.
“Addison,” Cleo blurted.
Cross held up the note. “You knew about this?”
