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“I’ve known you, Chubs, and Roamer are a package deal since you’ve been fourteen.”
The bike rally.
I nodded then stared at Rya. I wasn’t going to ask her to leave or do anything she didn’t want to do. Period. The end.
Diesel didn’t say anything else. He simply, yet wisely, went back to stirring the spaghetti sauce that had been over stirred a while back.
Rya blew out a long breath while looking around the only home she’d known.
Sadly, I’d known a few.
Finally, Rya said, “Mr. Dee-sul, Sable would like to come to ya home but worries you won’t let her sleep with Thunda’.”
“Rrr-rr?” I Scooby-Doo’d while men laughed at the thought of me sharing a bedroom with a horse.
Rya mouthed to me, “I’m not really talking about Sable,” while pointing to her chest.
The men laughed harder and fell more in love with my girl.
???
There were many things to discuss, but Diesel seemed focused on relocating us more than anything. So I continued to let him take the lead. First, I had to talk to a Titan.
“Weatherman?” I said into my cellphone.
He sounded … tired. “Yeah, kid,” he answered in Spanish.
Out of respect, I spoke it in return. Emotionally, I was struggling because it felt wrong to leave a man who had taken my side over someone he’d known for much longer. “I may, uh, I mean, not forever or anything, but, um… I may head to, uh. Maybe it’s best if I get Rya—and me—out of here for a bit.”
He exhaled a weight as if carrying the world on his shoulders, too. “I know, kid. I’m on the porch talking to Diesel.”
It shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. Weatherman was still with me. “I’ll be right down.”
Sneaking out of her bed, I made sure Rya was covered and snug before slipping on a pair of jeans. Realizing the house had been a well-defended fortress all along, I didn’t text to wake Chubs or Roamer to watch over Rya while I left her room. I did, however, jolt to a stop when seeing Art sitting at the top of the stairs while closing the door behind me.
I asked, “You good? Need to talk to me?”
Seeming a little confused, he shook his head.
I sat next to him. “What is it? Why are you up here?”
Dark brows bunched as he shrugged. “Not sure.”
I tilted my head in question.
“Damn, you just looked like Dad.”
That made me smile a little. I was tired as fuck, but that felt good to my wounded spirit. “Art, thanks for being here again.”
The night that everything had come to a head and I had faced the Fury MC alone, it was Artist who came running, stopping the man who was about to shoot Rya. Forever I would be in his debt.
“Of course,” he nodded again, clearly heavily distracted. “She’s amazing.”
“Yeah—” I agreed until he cut me off.
“Like Demi.”
“Who?”
