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20
RAE
"Are you sure you're okay?"Maddie tugs me through the lounge, her hand fisted tight around my wrist, to a dimly lit hallway that runs parallel behind the bar. "If he ever says anything to upset you—I don't care who he is around here—he’s my goddamn daddy and I'll set him straight."
"Honestly, Mads. It doesn't matter." It feels like penance for my sins last night.
The universe is one twisted bitch when it comes to teaching me a lesson.
"Bullshit." Maddie surveys the state of me with a sigh. "What the fresh hell have you been doing? Do I need to go have a word with Digger, too?"
"No." I peek at the pictures lining the hallway as we talk. All photographs mounted with care. All of what appears to be club members, given the bikes that frequent the scenes. "I was helping in the garage, is all."
"Rolling in the dirt, more like." She urges me on to then angle us through a narrow doorway.
The room opens out before me, four identical washers lined up on our left, four driers mounted to the right-side wall over acedar top counter, and a large island in the middle of the room, sorting baskets stashed in the shelves below."Wow." It's like a scene straight out of a home renovation show.
"Mm-hmm." Maddie crosses to a deep, square tub in the center of the workbench and knocks the hospital-style tap on. “Lou-Ann pressed Daddy for an upgrade for near on two years before he relented. She made quite the case after the club arrived home from a ride end of last year, all wet and muddy. It took her three days to get through the mountain of washing with the single washer and drier she had back then."
"Three days?" I squirt soap from a pretty brass dispenser into my hand and rub through the dust and dirt. "Again. Wow." Gloves only stop so much.
"There are nine live-in members and three more single men who pay her to do their laundry." Maddie smiles, stepping back to let me wash. "She has quite the workload."
"Do the live-in members not pay her?"
"The club does." She fidgets with a loose thread on her sweater.
"And they pay the club?" I rinse off and reach for the plush towel hanging on a brass rail to the right.
"So to speak." She straightens the towel after I'm done, returning the room to its magazine-spread glory. “We’ve all got ways we help the club.”
And right now, I’ve got no idea what mine is.
I lean back against the counter, hands braced on either side of me. “Do you think this whole set-up with your uncle is a mistake?”
“He make you feel uncomfortable?” She frowns.
I shake my head, the truth a knot in my throat. “No. It’s just…”
“What?” She folds her arms, leaning on the island opposite me.
“I don’t want it to mess things up between you and me. I appreciate our friendship, Mads.”
“Why would it?” She softly smiles as though talking to a confused child. “It’s just pretend, Rae. Be seen on his bike, standing beside him, and people will get the idea.”
“What if this drags on for a while?” I voice my very real concern. “I can’t just stand idle at his side for months on end without people questioning the legitimacy of it.”
She twists her lips, glancing to the side. “I mean, you have a point. But I wouldn’t worry about it until it becomes an issue.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I pick at a bit of rough skin on my finger.
“What?” The toe of her boot knocks my shoe. “Spit it out.”
“I get the impression he’s not real big into the women around here.”
“First impressions can be misleading.”
I stuff down the ache her words create for later and explain myself better. “I meant, is it unusual for him to have a ‘relationship’?”
