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My world rocks sideways. Single women don’t just “hang around” motorcycle clubs. “What are you talking about?”
The two of them exchange more anxious glances.
“If she’s with you, that’s good,” Murphy says, which doesn’t answer my question.
“Serena’s a good girl. She wasn’t treated very nice by the last Downstate VP. That’s all,” Z explains. “No one had seen her in a while. It’s all good.” He thumps my back before hurrying into the dining room.
I curl my fist in Murhpy’s T-shirt and yank him closer. “I ain’t buying that happy horse shit. What else did you want to tell me?”
“Nothing.” He glances down at my hand.
I release him but keep staring him down until he rolls his eyes.
“Nothing bad. Z’s right. Shadow—the old Downstate VP—was a real piece of shit.” He pauses and looks away.
“You trying to tell me she was a club girl?” Not my Serena. She seemed so awkward and uncomfortable here that first night.
“Just be nice to her.”
“Of course I am.” I narrow my eyes, studying his expression. Looks a lot like when he was a kid and I’d catch him in the garage sittin’ on one of the brother’s bikes. “Why? You got a thing for her?”
“Christ, brother. You know I’m fucking married now.” He gestures in Heidi’s direction.
Didn’t miss the word now. “Had a thing for her?”
Murphy’s always had too much respect for his elders, otherwise he would’ve punched me for asking that question. “Before Heidi, yes. We had a thing. And I probably strung her along more than was right. Then, Shadow treated her shitty but”—an evil gleam enters his eyes—“Z handled that motherfucker. He got what was coming to him.” His expression shifts. “Honestly, I’m surprised she’d even come back here. She was always a nice girl. Loyal to the club. So, treat her well—that’s all I’m saying.”
If I wasn’t so torqued up, I’d be proud of Murphy’s concern. Rock’s influence has obviously soaked into the younger members. “Who else?”
He cocks his head. “Who else, what?”
“Don’t be dumb, Murphy. Hasn’t worked for you since you were a kid.”
His gaze darts around the room. Deciding if he should warn some brothers or not seeing anyone who fits the bill?
“I honestly don’t know. No one else Upstate, I’m pretty sure.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ve been a little busy to stay pen pals.”
“Don’t get cute with me.”
“Brother, the second Heidi moved home, I kept my distance from all the club girls. So, I’m sorry, but I don’t have a lot of information for you.” He stares at me until what he’s trying to say sinks in.
“Heidi got a problem with her?” Shit. So far, all the old ladies have been nice to Serena.
Murphy glares hard enough to set a lesser man on fire. “I don’t think so. They were around each other when I was helping Z run things Downstate and I didn’t see any issues. But it’s not like Heidi and I sit around chatting about our exes.”
“I’m sorry I’m putting you on the spot. But I need to know. So I don’t get blindsided.” Again.
“She never mentioned it?” Disbelief drips through his words.
“Don’t worry about our conversations. Who else is gonna smart off like Steer did?”
He blows out an annoyed breath. “I don’t know. Besides Shadow and his fuckery, Tawny was always shitty to her.”
“She’s always been hostile to any woman associated with the club,” I say. “I remember that much. It was just a matter of if she was nasty to their face or if she stabbed ’em in the back.”
“Got that right,” he mutters. “Anyway, after all that shit went down with Shadow, Serena vanished. As far as I know, she stayed away from the club.”
Until I dragged her back.
That flicker of fear on her face when we met makes sense now. She wasn’t reacting to my ink in general. She reacted to the Lost Kings emblem specifically.
That’s how she knows Jigsaw and Rooster. That’s how Hope knew her.
Holy fuck. I’ve been so damn dazzled by her, I never asked a bunch of obvious questions.
My club treated her poorly. Yet, she’s here. Because of me.
“Ask Rooster or Jiggy. They’d know more and won’t talk trash like Steer.”
I finally nod at Murphy. “Yeah, okay.”
“We good?” he asks.
I nod at his question, but my gaze lands on Serena in the distance to my left.
More specifically, on Serena grabbing her coat and heading for the front door.
Too many people stand between her and me. I pound down the hallway and burst through the dining room and into the kitchen, where I slam my way outside.
My boots crunch over the ground as I circle to the front of the clubhouse, eating up the distance between us.
She can’t outrun me.
I grunt and lunge, crashing into her.
She yelps.
My arms lock around her waist and I lift her in the air, slamming her back against my chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” I whisper against her ear.
