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“You’re making a mi—” And for the first time in my life, I hang up on someone. Just like that. Done.
I’m finally free.
“Wow.” I slowly sit on the edge of Ryder’s bed. I just severed my relationship with my dad, my siblings, and that whole life, and now that it’s sinking in, the horrible music is rather calming. Now I need to call Diana and give her a heads-up, and I will, but I have to do something I’ve wanted to do for years… something I’ve always let others talk me out of.
Today is the day. I’m free. For a split second, I hesitate. Am I being too hasty?
Screw it, that’s the old Julianna talking. The new one is going after what she wants. I’m gonna be fierce, determined. And that starts with changing my look. I have only myself to make happy: no family or ex-husband dragging me down. Ryder’s made it clear that he can’t be anything more than a dick, so no need to worry about him.
I hop off the bed and groan at how sore my muscles are, but I’ll take some Advil and a quick shower and be good as new. With the adrenaline still pumping, I’m in and out in under ten minutes. I barely need makeup. My cheeks are already flushed from Ryder and the excitement. All I apply is light eye makeup and pale pink lip gloss.
Next, clothes. I drag my Louis Vuitton suitcase to one side of Ryder’s room where there’s nothing but a bookshelf in the corner. It’s filled with all kinds of books, from medical dictionaries to books on dreams and what they mean.
This is like finding a treasure map that leads straight into Ryder’s head, and I’ll have to examine them later. Wondering why these books interest him, I trail my hand over four medical textbooks on the brain, and my heart twists. What’s in his head that makes him seek peace and knowledge?
It’s so strange to feel connected with someone instantly, yet to not even know if he has a family. I see no pictures, other than a black-and-white photo of him riding his bike straight toward the lens. I wonder if Gia took this. It’s an amazing shot of him. Whoever took it captured him perfectly.
A force.
Leaning down, I unzip my luggage and decide I’m going all black today: black panties, bra, racerback turtleneck, and skinny jeans. I wish I had some cute black boots, but my ballet flats will do.
I need to find Rip. He’ll know where Dolly’s salon is. I can’t call Gia. She’ll freak that I’m at the clubhouse rather than staying at her place, and I’m not prepared to answer her questions.
Like what are you doing? I pull my thick hair up in a careless bun and grab my purse, dumping my phone in it, and head down the stairs. The music has now changed to the Black Crows, which is better than whatever was blasting before. Ignoring the stares, I march straight past a cluster of women in leather and into the kitchen.
As soon as I walk in, I know something is wrong. Amy is nowhere, but the faint smell of bacon lingers, and all the bikers sitting at the long picnic table stand and look at me like I have something in my teeth.
“Um. Hi, is Rip around?”
One of the bikers starts to cough, then proceeds to leave through the back door.
“Is Amy here?” I frown but project my voice. They simply stare at me like I carry the plague.
“Amy’s gone to the store. What you need?” I turn to see Ox? Olaf? Something like that. I remember him from Axel’s wedding.
“Oh hi, remember me? I’m friends with Gia—” He rubs the back of his neck, like I’m giving him a headache, which is ridiculous since I just came downstairs.
“I know who you are,” he grumbles, and for a second I’m taken aback at the rudeness. The man is big. Not as tall as Ryder, but he may have more tattoos.
“Um, is Rip here?” I say, holding my shoulders back.
“You’re kidding, right?” He snorts, turning to the other bikers, holding up his hand for them to stay quiet. “Yeah, Rip is busy also.”
“Has something happened?” I demand as dread fills me. Everyone is acting weirder than usual.
“No. Now, what do you need with Rip?”
“I wanted to ask him if he could take me to Dolly’s salon to get my hair styled.” Loud groans and the shuffling of boots fill the kitchen as half the guys leave, all shooting me a death glare.
I frown as they pass. Clearly something is happening. “Can you help me? I’d call a cab, but they seem to get nervous coming here.” I take a breath and look at him.
“Hold on.” He starts to text. “Just some friendly advice.” He looks up from his phone, and I notice he has the bluest eyes. If he’d let his hair grow out, he’d actually look handsome, in a nontraditional way.
