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“But I’ve been in here all afternoon.” Decompressing. Processing.
Existing.
“Not like you’re missin’ out on much.” Digger sucks a deep breath, pushing off the furniture. “If I were you, I’d be hidin’ out up here too. Fewer questions to answer. Less assholes to avoid.”
I chuckle. “You don’t paint your club in a good light.”
He takes a step closer. “Nobody does.”
I’m struck by our height difference. If I were to stand toe-to-toe with the guy, I’d imagine my shoulder would tuck nicely into his armpit, the top of my head barely meeting his chin. “You’re a lot taller than your brother.”
The slow smile returns. “That’s because we got different mommas.” I get a glimpse of perfect white teeth. “Anythin’ else you notice?”
“Nothing I need to share.” I duck my head and stare at the ground again.
The toe of his enormous boot comes into view before firm fingers lift my chin. “Don’t do that ‘round here.”
I brave a glance and find him with his head ducked a little to level our eye contact.
“No need to be shy of what you are, Rae.”
“And what is she, huh, Uncle West?”
He drops my face as though I burned him, stare hardening when he glances over my head at Maddie. “In need of people who care about her.” He steps around me as though I don’t really exist and bops Maddie on the head with a flat palm. “You gonna do that for me, squirt?”
“Sure.” She pushes him away playfully. “Haven’t I already?”
Digger’s gaze catches mine before he glances down at her again. “Keep at it, yeah?”
“Of course.” She waits until his boot steps recede down the hall and then slams the door in his wake. “What did he really want?” She glances around the room, her gaze landing on my clothes.
“Just dropping my things off.” I note the bag still rolled on the seat. Did he really want it back, or was that just a ruse to touch my things again? I step over and check he picked up everything on the list.
Maddie drops her butt to the end of the bed. “He can be a bit of an asshole. Right prick, in fact.” She chuckles, looking down at where her fingers pick at the seam of the comforter. “Make sure you tell me if he bothers you.”
I glance over at her, wet hair cascading in loose ringlets over her shoulders. “You should encourage your curls.” I nod at her. “They look cute on you.”
“These things?” She lifts a wet clump to inspect the waves. “Looks cute now, but you should see the hot mess it is when I brush it out.”
“Because you’re not supposed to brush curls,” I tell her, shifting a stack of my clothes to the empty top drawer in the bureau. “You need a product that helps hold them and to scrunch your hair dry.”
“How do you know so much about this?” She nods toward me with a wry smile. “Your hair’s pin straight.”
My hands still midway through smoothing out a folded shirt. “Mom was fun once. She let me play with hers.” Silence hangs heavy as I stash the rest of my things in spaces around the room and retrieve what I need for a shower. “Do you think I’ll be able to go back to work?”
“Daddy’s undecided.” She offers me a gentle smile. “I know. It sucks.”
“I don’t want to lose that independence,” I explain, dropping to sit beside her. “Having my own money. Being able to pay my way.”
“We don’t mind helping.” Mads slips her arm through mine and rests her head on my shoulder. “And you’re not expected to pay a thing if you pitch in like Daddy said. We’re not the kind of family most dream of, but I wouldn’t have life any other way.”
“Even with the associated danger?”
She stills. “What you know of that?” Her tone drops—level, curious.
“Only what the locals gossip about.” I touch my head to hers briefly. “They say your club was the reason for a pile-up on the interstate last year.”
She sighs. “Involved, yes. But not the reason.”
