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A broken cry escaped my lips, and I shoved my fist into my mouth and pushed open the screen door. I had a measure of privacy outside, and with the aid of the external lights of the clubhouse, I made my way to a picnic table out back. I took a seat and waited for Duke.
True to his word, he was down only a few minutes later, still looking disheveled.
Part of me felt bad for interrupting him—he’d clearly been with a woman.
But he gave me his full attention the moment he approached. He held a bottle of liquor by the neck and sat next to me. “What’s up? Does Slash know you’re here?”
“No.” My voice sounded small and meek. “I came to ask—” I exhaled. “I know about Slash’s past. Do you know about it?”
Duke ran a hand across his scruff and then took a sip of booze. “I know he was married and she died, but I don’t know anything more than that. No specifics. Colt knows everything, though.”
“He does?”
Duke nodded. “Yeah. Prez wanted to know about it when Slash asked to stay with the club. Like, become a full-on member and stop being a Nomad. Look, we have a code. When a club chapter allows someone to become a Nomad, they’re saying you’re free to travel and still be a full club member. That tells the other chapters the Nomads haven’t done anything to get booted from the club, but it also means they aren’t tight with anyone. Hard to keep close friends when you’re traveling all the time. Slash wanted to stay here and be part of something bigger than himself again, and when he asked to do it, he had to tell Prez why. It’s about respect, you know? Prez told the rest of us just enough about his past so we could decide to vote him into the club or not, so he could really be a part of it. He’s one of us now.”
“On his way back from Idaho, he stopped off in Nebraska to see his mother-in-law.” I swallowed. “He didn’t want her to be alone on the anniversary of her daughter’s death.”
“Fuck, Brooklyn.”
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“I knew,” he admitted.
“You didn’t tell me. I thought we were friends, Duke.”
“Wearefriends,” he insisted. “But Slash is mybrothernow. You still don’t get how deep this goes.”
“The club trumps everything, huh?” I folded my hands in my lap, wishing this wasn’t all such a mess.
Duke reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “You should go home.”
“I should, shouldn’t I?” I said quietly. “I’ll do that.” I stood up and started for the door.
“Brooklyn?”
I looked at him over my shoulder.
“We’reyourfamily, too.”
“Families don’t keep important shit from one another.”
* * *
I went home. Not to the house I was renting with Slash, but to the bakery. It was my comfort place. And it was mine.
Instead of parking in the dark lot behind the building, I pulled into a spot across the street from Ella’s closed shop. The street was torn up, the building was vacant and the lack of vibrancy in the area hit me hard.
The bakery would survive—and thrive—without Slash’s help. He’d made it easier, but I was no stranger to hardship. I could do it on my own. And I wasn’t really on my own anymore. I had Jazz and Brielle, and we had new business drummed up from the success of Imogene’s wedding.
I unbuckled my seat belt, unlocked the door, and reached over to grab my purse. The driver’s side door was suddenly wrenched open and strong, gloved fingers gripped my wrist and ripped me out of the vehicle.
With a strangled cry, I faced my assailant.
A masked man loomed over me, the light of the streetlights illuminating a black balaclava that covered his face, revealing only a set of eyes that made him appear like a demonic joker.
“You stupid cunt,” he hissed as he smacked the side of my head with an open palm. My brain rattled in my skull and tears flooded my eyes, marring my vision. But I recognized the voice immediately…
Kurt.
