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I didn’t ask questions. I wasn’t interested in hearing any gossip. And I wouldn’t typically respond to this kind of shit but because it was Delia, I looked her in the eyes and said, “My mother used to be a dancer. A stripper.”
Her eyes went soft, and she tapped my cheek. “So you know what it’s like for a girl to get labelled with a reputation she didn’t necessarily earn.”
When I didn’t bother to answer that, she smiled knowingly and patted my arm. “She’s a sweet girl. Been through a lot. But I don’t think she knows you’re more than her bodyguard.”
“Excuse the language, Delia, but we’ve been fuckin’ like farm animals in spring since we got to Deke’s cabin until the bad news came yesterday.”
“Even still… a girl like that? All she’s been through, she might not be able to wrap her mind around much right now what with her grief and all, but you might have to have a conversation if your actions don’t speak loud enough for her as she heals from this.”
She gave me a long look.
When I didn’t speak, she added, “Not that I’m one to give relationship advice.”
“Oh yeah? From what I hear, that’s one of your favorite things to do.”
She gave me a sheepish grin. “Bikers gossip more than women.”
A smile tugged at my mouth.
“So, yeah, Jesse, that’s fair. Up to you if you take my advice or no, but just gonna say, when people listen to me, things tend to go well for them.” She winked and patted my face again. “She might need you to be crystal clear on where you stand. When you’re ready. If that’s the place your head ‘n heart get to.”
Gigi was heading in our direction from the ladies’ room, putting her sunglasses on over swollen eyes.
“How you doin’?” I asked, putting my arms around her and dropping a kiss on her mouth while holding onto her long braid.
She shrugged.
I lifted her glasses up onto the crown of her head so I could look her in the eyes, then I took her face into my hands. “I’m here,” I said, “Whatever you need.”
She frowned. “I… I… thanks.” She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes.
Letting go of her face, I took her hand and led her to my truck, opening the passenger door for her. “Ridin’ with us?” I called over my shoulder to Delia, who stood where we left her, wearing a big grin.
“No way, never when my man’s got a space with my name on it.” She gestured to the three Harleys where Rudy, Edge, and Rash, one of the Sioux Falls prospects, also Bront’s cousin, stood.
I jerked my chin at the guys. Helmets were put on heads and then we all rolled out.
“How you doin’, really?” I asked.
Gigi was staring out the window, chewing her lip. “Hm?”
“Delia likes you,” I said instead.
“Yeah. She’s always been awesome to me.” She looked stressed out. She was nibbling on her nails.
“What’s goin’ through your mind right now?” I asked. “Can I do anything to help?”
She shook her head, gaze fixed out the window, so I did something I didn’t normally do. I let it go. Since spending time with Gianna Grace Jones, I’ve found myself doing a lot of shit I don’t normally do.
I was about to get out of the truck at the police station, but she grabbed my leg. “I’ll just get Delia to come in with me, okay?”
I cocked my head, about to ask questions when she spoke fast. “I’m safe in there, you won’t have to protect me from any bad guys in the cop shop, so just chill here while I go deal, okay?”
“I can-”
“Please. I’ve cried in front of you more than enough already. You don’t need to see me fall apart again.”
“Gigi.” I grabbed her hand and held it.
She squeezed. “Please Jesse. Just… I’ll be back. Not tryin’ to seem ungrateful or anything with all you’ve been doin’ for me, but can I ask you to just stay here? Pretty please?”
I moistened my lips as I processed what she was saying.
“Thanks,” she said and instead of giving me a chance to speak, let go of my hand, looping her bag over her shoulder and hurrying out of the truck.
Delia was already off Rudy’s bike, passing her man her helmet. She linked arms with Gigi to go inside.
Rudy approached my truck, so I stepped out.
“Tricky business, that…” he observed, gesturing with his chin toward the cop station.
“Tricky?”
“Supporting someone grieving the loss of someone who was hurtin’ the club.”
“Yeah.”
He scratched his jaw. “What’s your gut tell you about this thing with them?”
“With Gianna and her stepsister? Sometimes loyalty doesn’t die when it should. I think she shoulda walked away a long time ago; the stepsister sounded like a lost cause, but this girl didn’t give up when she should’ve.”
