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I took comfort in the determination in his voice. The words he spoke didn't sound like a man planning to ghost me. When he finally released me and handed me the helmet he insisted I wear even though he didn't use one, I felt better. Hopeful even.
By the time we made it back to my place, and he grumbled for a good fifteen minutes about my lack of security, I felt a lot better about the future.
"I'm going to send Tel over here to get you set up with at least a camera at your door and a basic alarm system. This is pathetic. You rent this place?"
I nodded, not wanting to get into the details that this was all I could afford at the moment. That was a can of worms for another time. Or never.
"JD, we live in a small town. This isn't a hot bed of criminal activity." I realized my mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. Sultan, Washington wasn't as sleepy as it seemed. Not with a motorcycle club at its heart.
He grabbed me by the arms and nailed me with another one of those intense filled gazes that probably scared most men half to death. "I hate when people say that. It's simply not true. We are practically adjacent to Seattle where all kinds of shit goes down. And our town is filled with tourists twelve months of the year. You have to take precautions. This is why every year we build more cabins on our property. Our family has to stay safe."
"Okay." What else was I supposed to say? I couldn't afford to change out my locks when I moved in let alone anything more sophisticated than that.
"Your landlord should be ashamed of himself."
"He's actually a pretty nice guy. He owns the restaurant downstairs. He feeds me."
He continued as if he hadn't even heard me. "I wonder if all of our girls live like this. It's not cool." I could practically see the gears moving in his head as he rolled this problem through his mind. "Give me your phone."
I hesitated. I doubted he would appreciate my less than stellar example of modern technology. But he was on the warpath about security so I reached into my bag, pulled it out and placed it in his hand.
He looked at it and then at me, but thankfully said nothing about it. "I'm going to program my phone and Tel's in this thing. You need anything you get in touch. If anything happens out of the ordinary, you get in touch. I should be back in a week, ten days tops.
When he handed my phone back to me our fingers brushed and that little spark sent a shiver running down my spine. As we said our goodbyes, and he kissed me one last time I had a lot more faith that this was not the end. Our story was just beginning and I couldn't wait to see what happened next.
I wish someone would have warned me that I was living in some kind of fantasy land in my head, because I was a dumb bitch.
CHAPTER NINE
Sasha
Three weeks.
That's how long it had been since JD dropped me off and promised our getting together next time would be worth the wait. Of course he'd lied. Waiting sucked and everyone knew it.
Not that I wasn't keeping myself busy. Bruce had asked me to pick up extra shifts and for the last week and a half I'd been at the at the club every single night. I couldn't get over how busy those shifts were and the tips were fantastic.
As I locked my front door and engaged my shiny new alarm system that Tel had installed the very next day after JD suggested it, I checked my phone for messages. I'd taken to checking it often. It made me feel desperate, but I couldn't help it. I could have texted him, he'd programmed his number into my phone, but I was too scared.
The man was the president of an MC. He lived a wild and dangerous life. And as far as I could tell he'd ghosted me. A few of the club members had trickled in and out of the club over the last few weeks, but not a single sighting from JD.
I'd thought about asking Bruce. Heather too. And then thought better of it. If he'd changed his mind about me, chasing after him wouldn't help. Those were the stories I kept hearing about on a near daily basis.
Lots of women in town were obsessed with becoming an old lady. They hung around all the time.
The club girls. That wasn't the word most used to describe them, but I sure as hell wouldn't call them whores. The thought of that made me sick. JD had this idea that I was young and innocent, but he couldn't be more wrong. Something I would have explained to him on a second date.
He deserved to know the truth. Although I was a dancer in his adult club. He had to have a clue. I used my body without an ounce of shame.
But a lot of the women following the club were different. From Heather's description the club girls weren't getting paid. They were hang arounds, looking to hook up with any member they could. Like fan girls. Many were hoping to become an old lady one day, and some just worked for the club and enjoyed partying with the guys.
I don't know. It sounded kind of weird to me. If they weren't part of the club, and they didn't work for the club, and they weren't friends with anyone associated with the club, why would they put themselves through trying to become someone's girlfriend or wife?
Since the weather was warmer than it had been in weeks, I bundled up and opted to walk to work. It really wasn't that far and I could easily talk Heather into giving me a ride home when the club closed tonight. She and I were kind of friends now. Her penchant for gossip still made me squirm, but I did enjoy some of the stories she told.
How she knew so much kind of blew my mind. But she was dating one of the prospects.
Before I knew it, I found myself walking across the crowded parking lot to the employee entrance of The Diamond. I took in all the cars and the bikes lined up out front and my stomach flipped with excitement.
