Page 36 of Property of Bob

“I know. I slept in one.” I put my hands on my hips. “But I want to be in my RV.”

“Then use the room you slept in. It’s private like your RV,” he tried to reason.

“I don’t want to use it.” Prime started toward the clubhouse and I followed him. “I’m not asking to drive the damn thing anywhere. It doesn’t even run.”

“I know.”

“I just want to sit in it.” It was my home.

“No.”

“Stop saying no!” I shouted.

Shay covered her mouth.

Prime stopped and turned around. “You done?”

“No.”

“Figured.”

I pointed toward the parking lot. “That RV is my home. I have been living in it for years. My clothes are there. My stuff is there. My coffee is there.”

“There’s coffee in the clubhouse,” he pointed out.

“Not my coffee.”

He stared at me.

I knew how ridiculous that sounded and I didn’t care. I needed something familiar. Something that belonged to me. The room they’d given me was nice. Pearl and Shay had been nice. Everybody had been nice, in their own weird, bossy way.

But none of it was mine.

I wanted my crappy couch. My little kitchen. My bed. My stupid magnets. I wanted to shut the door and sit somewhere that didn’t belong to the Kings of Anarchy.

“I just need an hour,” I said.

Prime shook his head. “Can’t happen.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Oh, that’s a great reason.”

Shay grabbed his arm. “What if we all go?”

He looked at her.

“We take Ramona to the RV,” she continued. “She can get whatever she needs, sit in there for a little while, and we’ll hang out outside.”

“No.”

“Prime.”

“I have shit I need to do, Shay.”

“So go do it,” I interrupted.