Page 342 of Devil’s Disciples

He shook his head and laughed. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t want George giving you a ride? George? The guy that Ghost thought enough of to leave half his money and his prized possession, Eleanor? Because you didn’t know him? So, you got some chick you didn’t know—who, by the way, leaves her nasty panties in random biker’s coat pockets—to give you a ride, because she could be trusted?”

“You’re way off track.”

He smirked. “How so?”

“You’re making points that aren’t relevant. Or, at least you’re trying to.” I raised my brows. “Can I tell my story now?”

“Please, do.”

I glanced around his office. I was out of the mood to continue. His off-hand comments and attempted stabs at humor weren’t what I was hoping for.

“I don’t even remember what I was talking about,” I muttered, lying my way out of continuing.

“You were taking the pantyless chick for a ride.”

I wanted to tell Baker about Ally. Intrigued beyond belief at her many quirks, I found her rather fascinating. She lived her life away from the technological advances most people found necessary, choosing to spend her time watching old movies, listening to records, and reading books.

I would have gone on to tell him about meeting George, what a great guy he was, and how he planned to keep the Shelby forever, only driving it on Sundays.

Now that I had a taste of Baker’s argumentative nature, I remembered the other reason I didn’t like going into his office.

He was always right, and I was always wrong.

He was also somewhat of a hypocrite. He was in a relationship, but felt that the rest of us shouldn’t be, because it put the club at jeopardy. The only other member of the club who had an Ol’ Lady was Cash, and Baker didn’t even try to get in the way of that, because Cash would whip his ass in a minute if he tried.

“Yeah. So, I took the chick for a ride.” I stood and gestured to the letter. “You can read that at the meeting if you want.”

“Wait.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re leaving? What about your story?”

“I just told it,” I said. “I took her for a ride.”

“Don’t get all butt hurt and stomp off, Goose.”

“I’m not butt hurt, and I’m not stomping off,” I said. “I’m tired from being up all night.”

“Why were you up all night?” he asked.

I’d spent half the night convincing myself not to fuck Ally. The other half had been spent going through Ghost’s belongings, hoping to find something that made accepting his death a manageable task.

For the time being, I’d succeeded at the first task. The second was a miserable failure. I hoped in time I could find a way to succeed at living without Ghost in my day to day life.

The few minutes I’d been in Baker’s office reminded me why I chose to listen to everyone’s problems but keep my own bottled up inside me. Sharing with him the true reasons why I’d been up all night would only cause him to question my reasoning or stability.

He’d already done enough of that for one day.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said.

He looked away. “I’ve been suffering from that myself.”

“I’m sure it’ll get better with time.”

“Want to go in that diner one of these evenings and get something to eat?” he asked. “Maybe talk to that owner about Ghost?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll see. I’ve got a lot to do at his place. Getting all his shit sorted out isn’t going to be an easy task.”

He stood. “Just let me know. And, let me know if you need any help going through his stuff.”

“Will do.”