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“No, no, no! How did he find me? Is he in Winters?”
I rocked in my chair as a couple of cars drove past mine. Had I somehow conjured him after performing his sick ritual on myself?
The phone rang again, pulling a terrified scream out of me. Except it wasn’t the unknown number, it was Steph’s. I didn’t want to answer but had no choice. She’d call Maddy. God only knew what would happen if Mads was worried for my safety.
“Hey,” I answered, hand pressed to my chest as I tried to sound normal.
“You almost here?”
“Yeah. Just running late. Be there in five.” I dried my eyes with my sleeve.
“O-kay. You sound funny.”
“Allergies.”
“In the fall?”
Crap, I wasn’t good at thinking on my toes. “Maybe it’s Luna.” I winced at blaming my sweet baby, but she was the most logical excuse I could come up with on the spot.
“I hope not.”
“Me too. See you soon.”
“K.”
The call ended.
My hands shook like crazy. About as fast as my heart rate. Somehow I needed to push through the abject horror I felt hearing my father’s voice.
I couldn’t deal with him.
I had plans.
Friends depending on me for a girls’ night.
If I didn’t calm down, appear normal, Maddy’s canine senses would smell the terror permeating my insides. The terror only one person had ever instilled in me… Mr. Wizard, aka, my druggie dad.
Why? Why now? I had a peaceful life. Well, sort of… sans the biker shit. I had a job I loved. Friends. No drugs or crazy crap my father got off on.
Shaking my head and gritting my teeth, I pushed thoughts of him out of my head. I refused to think of him now… or ever.
You can do this.
God, I hoped so. The sooner I got Steph and me to the club, the safer I would feel.
Two hours later, four screwdrivers—double the vodka—and I didn’t have a care in the world. Maddy had asked Steph and me to spend the night. We agreed, so I didn’t need to stay sober.
Getting hammered was at the top of my to-do list.
My hooded eyes were trained on Steph singing an eighties song in the corner with Libby. Leave it to Mr. Perfect Biker Prez to make his woman deliriously happy after not approving her request to sing karaoke at The Bullet.
What had Storm done?
He bought his Angel her own karaoke machine and added spotlights in the corner of the room. She’d been beaming like a freaking beacon since I arrived. I didn’t think she could shine any brighter. But, boy, had I been wrong.
The clubhouse wasn’t packed, but there was a fair amount, likely on guard duty, along with kittens. Tina and Raul were here too. Their kids were at home with a babysitter… er, uh, a prospect they called Hollywood. I hadn’t talked to him before, only seen him once. He was a blue-eyed, blond hottie with a golden tan, surfer good looks, and a million-dollar smile. Hollywood fit him perfectly for a road name, even though he was born and raised in Missouri.
Sugar and Art—the hottest tattooist I’d ever seen—were sitting together at the bar. He’d put Storm’s mark on Maddy. I’d heard he took Justin’s position and recently moved upstairs into his old room.
