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Laura: You owe me a thousand dollars in crypto for having to clean up that mess he just made in the street. Yes, the street.
Laura: Why do you live like this? He’s a horse. He just hit me with his tail and now I’m icing my knee. That’s not normal.
I smiled, punching out a new text.
Me: He gives the best hugs. Better than humans.
Me: Be good to him. It’s not his fault he’s a giant. Besides, your finished tattoo will look so beautiful. Just think about that.
Since paying for my dad’s funeral slightly cleaned me out, I was trading a tattoo for her watching Maxwell. Well, and a few other things. I’d started her mermaid scales a few months ago, and as she helped with things like pet sitting while I took on extra shifts, or went to work-mandated trainings and expos, I would work on her design. It was almost finished and looked incredible.
Laura: I just went from a medium-sized mermaid to a fucking Loch Ness monster
I sputtered a bit of my coffee, picturing her gorgeous scales transitioning into that creature.
Me: You’re only punishing yourself.
Laura: I feel like it might scare Maxwell when he sees it, so it’d be worth it. So, off-topic, but are you ready to hear what the lawyer has to say?
The reminder of the meeting pulled me back into the moment, making me glance at the time on my dash. I had fifteen minutes.
Me: I’m nervous and desperate to come home. I miss my boy.
Laura: *eyeroll* He misses you too. He keeps sniffing your pillow like a weirdo.
Smiling, I tucked my phone away and started the car up. I’d rather sit in the law office parking lot, so I didn’t risk being late. Pulling back onto Main Street, I heard the rumble of a motorcycle behind me. Gently sipping my coffee, I peeked into my rearview mirror, nervous that it might be the guy from the hotel.
Chrome gleamed under the early sun as a man straddling a black leather seat made his way down the main artery of town. His dark sunglasses shielded his face, and at this range I couldn’t tell who it was, but I saw the red and white patch color for Stone Riders and immediately released a pent-up breath.
Some things would never change, and regardless of all my emotional damage, the safety I felt when I saw that patch would never waver for as long as I lived. Of that, I was positive.
Still, I wanted to get back home, away from motorcycle clubs and ex boyfriends. My life in DC wasn’t glamorous or amazing. I didn’t have a boyfriend, or a family, or an amazing community in which I took refuge. I had Max, Laura, my chair in the tattoo studio, and a tiny apartment. It was in one of the worst parts of the city, and the danger I was eager to escape here was likely ten times worse in my stairwell alone.
But it was a harbor for my heart.
It had held me and kept me intact seven years ago, when all I wanted to do was fall apart. The city was a rough landscape I learned through trial and error. It was the duct tape to my tattered past, and that shit was still holding. I hated that a tiny, frail piece of me felt like being back here was tugging at the seams of my proverbial patch job. Just a few signatures, and a quick document saying I could sell Dad’s car or bike or whatever, and then I’d return to my comfort zone.
The engine behind me cut right, veering off down a different street, and I pushed down the gas a little harder. The sooner this meeting was over the better.
* * *
Earl’s office sat near the river, with a gorgeous view of the docks and a few fishing boats. His building was freshly painted a beautiful sapphire blue with clever signage. Honestly, it looked like something you’d find in the DC metro area, not small-town Rose Ridge. It spoke to how well Earl must be doing as a lawyer in this area.
I parked, hopped out, and slammed my car door shut, tossing my cell and keys into my purse.
The glass door pushed open easily as I found my way to a neatly organized desk with two chairs positioned in front of it. Earl wore a similar suit to the one the day before, this time in gray. He waved me over, gesturing toward one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Just finishing up a few copies, help yourself to coffee or water.”
There was a cute coffee bar to the left of his desk, but I had already had my fill of caffeine, so I took a seat, kicking my leg over my knee. His office wasn’t large, but the windows facing the river offered the illusion of space.
“Okay, we are just waiting for one more and we can get started,” Earl murmured, staring down at the pile of papers on his desk.
My brows caved into the center of my forehead as I processed his statement.
“Who else—”
Words died on my tongue as the sound of a motorcycle cut through the office from the parking lot. I turned in my seat to look past the glass door I had come through in time to see someone park right next to my car.
