I grab my bag and head inside. My dad is in his chair. My mom is in the kitchen. They both look at me when I walk in.
“You’re late,” Dad says.
“I was studying,” I tell him. The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. But the alternative, not seeing Tiny, or my friends, is unacceptable.
He stares at me for a long second but doesn’t push it. I go upstairs to my room and close the door. I pull out my phone and text Tiny.
Me: Home safe. Thank you for tonight. I needed that.
His reply comes fast.
Tiny: Anytime, sweetheart. Get some rest. I’m thinking about you.
I smile at the screen and lie back on my bed. The guilt is still there, but so is the memory of his mouth on me. Of his hands holding me like I matter. Of the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the room. Of the rumble of his bike under us on the way home.
I close my eyes and let myself feel both things at once. The fear and the joy. The guilt and the freedom. For now, it’s enough. For now, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing him. I’m choosing me.
TWELVE
TINY
I wakeup thinking about her. The room is still dark. My phone sits on the nightstand, screen dark, but I already know there’s probably a message waiting. I reach for it and open our chat. Lucy sent something at two in the morning.
Buttercup: Can’t sleep. Keep thinking about yesterday. Thank you.
I smile even though my eyes are barely open. I type back quick.
Me: Me too. Get some rest when you can. I’ll text you later.
I set the phone down and lie there for a minute. My chest feels full in a way that’s starting to feel normal. I’ve never had this before. Someone I want to text first thing when I wake up. Someone whose voice in my head makes the whole day feel different.
Club business is picking up. Pres called a meeting for this afternoon. I already know it’s about the Southside Kings. They’ve been sniffing around our territory more than usual.Shipments going missing. Prospects reporting cars following them. It’s not full war yet, but it’s getting there. I push the thought aside for now. I’ve got a few hours before I have to deal with that. Right now I just want to focus on Lucy.
We’ve been sneaking around for days. Short texts between her shifts. Quick drives where I pick her up a few blocks from the clinic and we park somewhere quiet. One night we sat in my truck for two hours just talking. Another time she only had twenty minutes and we spent it kissing until her lips were swollen. Every stolen moment feels like it matters more than the last.
I get up and make coffee. While it brews I scroll through our messages again. She sent a picture yesterday of a drawing one of the kids at the clinic made for her. A stick figure in scrubs with a big smile. She wrote that it made her day. I saved the picture. I don’t even feel stupid about it anymore.
My phone buzzes while I’m pouring the coffee.
Lucy: Morning. Work is already busy. You have church today?
Me: Yeah. Should be done by evening. You free after work?
Lucy: I can tell them I’m studying late again. Meet at the usual spot?
Me: I’ll be there.
I spend the rest of the morning doing small shit around the house. I fix the loose hinge on the kitchen cabinet. I wash my bike even though it doesn’t really need it. Anything to keep myhands busy so I don’t drive over there early and risk her dad seeing me.
Church starts at two. The room is full when I walk in. Pres is at the head of the table. Rook sits to his right. Steele, Cole, the twins, all the patched members. I take my usual seat and nod at the guys. The mood is heavier than normal.
Pres doesn’t waste time. “Southside Kings are pushing harder. Another shipment got hit last night. Small stuff, but it’s adding up. Prospects are reporting tails again. We need to stay sharp.”
Wyatt leans forward. “You think they’re testing us?”
“Could be,” Pres says. “Or they’re gearing up for something bigger. Either way we don’t give them an opening. No solo runs for a while. Pairs at minimum. Eyes open.”
I listen but my mind keeps drifting back to Lucy. If things get bad with the Kings I need to make sure she’s safe. Her dad already hates me. If club shit spills over it could make everything worse for her. I rub my jaw and try to focus.
