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Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Hunter had gone somewhere with the guy in the jean jacket after their meeting and it had to be far away because he said he wouldn’t be back until late tonight. Old Picklebuster would definitely want to know that tidbit, yet I couldn’t bring myself to share even that. It was probably insignificant. A preplanned trip to Mexico for all I knew, but what if it wasn’t?
“Nothing so far, sir, but they have me working in the shop. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before I uncover something.”
The lie easily slipped past my lips without so much as a hint of heartburn. A part of me knew I couldn’t trust a man who thought his people were expendable, but if I were honest with myself, and I always was, Hunter was the bigger reason. Where he was concerned, I had been compromised.
“Just focus on getting me something I can use on Kowalczyk. I don’t give two shits about an auto body shop.”
The sound of a dial tone filled my ear, and I threw my phone into my purse and opened the car door. My stomach rumbled, and I marched myself up the glass door with the sideways cup of coffee on it, intent on ordering something sweet and gooey to drown out my sorrows. A woman on a mission, I stormed into the dimly lit coffee shop, only to freeze when the girl in front of me turned around.
The corner of Stella’s lip tilted up. “Well, now I know you don’t have the same shitty taste in coffee as your sister. As long as you’re not perky in the mornings, we’ll get along just fine.”
With Stella, I’d never have to wonder what she meant or if she was being catty. The longer I was around her, the more convinced I became that she was my spirit animal. But like all good things in my life, I knew my friendship with Stella wouldn’t last. That didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy her company and keep these memories tucked away for a time when she hated me.
“No one’s ever accused me of being perky.” My lips twitched of their own accord. “And I’ve had no luck getting nail polish to stay on for more than a day either.”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you.”
A teenaged girl behind the counter waved at me, her blond ponytail swaying as she called out, “I can help the next person in line.”
Stella placed her order, then moved down to wait for her iced coffee. After I ordered a blueberry muffin and a caramel macchiato, I joined her at the end of the counter. We stood there in companionable silence for a beat before she turned to me.
Her brows drew together, the tiniest dimple forming between them. “About yesterday…”
I waved her off before she could go any further. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Whatever happened between you and Tweak will stay between you and Tweak.”
She cocked her head to the side as she studied me. “I appreciate that, but what happened yesterday wasn’t really about Tweak. He’s annoying as hell, a shameless flirt, and talks too much, but I don’t want you to think he’s an asshole.”
“You might want to add crazy to the list, because after you left, he told me he purposely started it. Then he asked me how serious I thought you were about the threat to his junk.”
She threw her head back and laughed, some of the dullness that was in her eyes a few moments ago fading away. “What did you say?”
“He gave me a scale of one to five and I blurted out ten.” The barista called Stella’s name, and she leaned over to grab a straw and her cup, a smirk touching her lips. “No judgment, but I wondered at one point if you were going to punch him.”
She chuckled. “The thought crossed my mind, but it wouldn’t have been in his face.”
My laughter faded into a snort, and I could feel my face heating as I picked up my muffin. This girl was ruthless, and I admired her for it. If only I had half of her courage, maybe I wouldn’t be as fucked-up in the head as I was.
“Come on, let’s grab a seat by the window and I’ll keep you company while you eat.”
Scattered all around us were bistro style tables with black wrought iron chairs. A few people typed on laptops or scrolled through their phones and a group of women spoke in low tones in the far corner.
Stella folded one of her legs under her as she sat, the cup that rested in her hands spinning around and around on the tabletop as she stared down at it.
“Tweak’s not crazy for doing what he did. If he hadn’t, I probably would have kept all my anger at Switch bottled up inside.” She looked up. “But I’m sorry you had to witness my meltdown on your first day in the shop.”
It was all coming together—the breakup vibe, Tweak’s cryptic comments, her not wanting me to think Tweak was an asshole. The DEA had it wrong. Switch didn’t transfer charters because he had a falling out with Ryder. Stella’s breakup with Switch was responsible for the chain reaction of all chain reactions.
Not that I blamed her for causing the shitstorm that was currently my life. She had no way of knowing who would become vice president and how it would affect the club’s future. Her future. Shit, she just lost her man, and now, because of me, she was about to lose her father as well. My appetite was instantly gone, and I slid the half eaten muffin away from me.
“It was hardly a meltdown, and there’s no need to apologize for expressing your feelings.” If she only knew the fuckery that went on in my head, she’d realize just how normal she was. “We all get pissed sometimes, and honestly, I wished I had the guts to tell a man to his face that I hoped his dick would fall off.”
She sucked on her straw and sighed as she set her cup down. “If only I could have said that to the right man. The fucked-up thing is, after I said that to him, and maybe punched him for leaving me, I’d probably fuck him senseless. How desperate is that?”
“Not desperate. Human. We can’t shut off our feelings like we do a gaming console. That’s why I like computers and video games. Everything is letters and numbers set in a predictable sequence. There’s nothing that can’t be undone with a click of the mouse.”
The corner of her lips tugged upward. “Cherry may have snagged Valentina, but I think I got the better end of the friend deal. Hers may make every word sound sexy with her Spanish accent, but mine could take over the world with a few lines of code.”
Cherry took the night off to hang out with me, which meant we were holed up in Hunter’s room watchingThe Notebook. Her choice, not mine. Where I ran from my feelings, Cherry embraced them. For such a cheerful person, she certainly didn’t mind sobbing over a chick flick. When we were teenagers, she dragged me to seeThe Fault in Our Starsand cried so hard that I ended up moving down a seat.
