I’m still mostly in a daze as Gunner makes a phone call, comes back to the couch, and leads me outside.

“Let’s go, babe,” he says as he walks me to my bike. “Ma’s home and she says to come on over. You’ll be in good hands with her until I get back.”

I don’t remember much about the ride over to Gunner’s mom’s house. I couldn’t even tell you what side of town it’s on. But when he pulls up at a tidy, pale green house with black shutters, a woman in a distressed T-shirt and faded jeans comes out to greet us.

“Hey, baby,” the woman says to Gunner, presenting a cheek for her to kiss. “This must be your friend?”

The woman looks like she might be in her mid- to late forties. She’s hardly maternal-looking, with an abundance of brown hair shot through with some artfully-placed silver streaks. Despite her casual dress, she’s well put-together, and in very good shape.

“This is Alix,” Gunner says, nodding toward me. “Alix, this is my ma, Lucy Storgaard.”

“Pleased to meet you,” I murmur awkwardly. I’m not sure how much Gunner has said to her about why I’m here.

“Oh, let’s cut the formal shit,” she smirks at me with a knowing look. “Come on honey, let’s get you inside. From what Gunner’s told me, you’ve got a lot on your mind, and need a little distraction.”

Gunner’s mom turns and heads up the sidewalk. When she gets to the front door, she looks back and motions me inside. I glance up at Gunner uncertainly.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t bite,” he grins. “At least, as far as I know. Smiley might tell you different.”

I frown in confusion at his last remark, but before I can ask him what he means Gunner reaches up and cups my chin lightly in his hand. “I’ll be back soon, babe. We’ll get Eden. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” I breathe, trusting him.

“Good.” He leans down and brushes my lips with his. “Now get inside. And get ready. Ma’s a tornado, but she’ll definitely keep your mind off things until we get back.”

Reluctantly, I watch Gunner pull away on his bike and go up the sidewalk to join Lucy. She practically pulls me into the house, and inside of five minutes, I’m sitting at her kitchen table with a sweetened iced tea in front of me. Her dog, a black and white pit bull named Zappa, is sitting expectantly at my feet, like he’s waiting for a treat.

“So, honey, how ya holdin’ up?” Lucy asks, leaning back in her chair with a look of sympathy in her eyes. “Gunner told me about your sister. You must be pretty worried.”

“I am,” I admit. Tears sting my eyes, but I force them back down. Beside me, Zappa whimpers in sympathy. I reach down absently and pat him on the head.

“Gunner and the Lords will bring her back,” Lucy says with certainty. “You can bank on that. They don’t stop until they get what they came for. You’ll see.”

“I know.” I give her a tremulous smile. “Thank you for taking me into your home. Gunner’s right — it would have been hard to wait for them to come back all by myself.”

“No problem at all, honey.” Lucy reaches over and pats my hand. “It’ll give me a chance to get to know the woman he’s playing hero for.”

“He’s been really kind to me.” Even though I’m not crying, my nose is threatening to run. I sniff once, and Lucy immediately gets up and comes back with a box of Kleenex for me, which I accept gratefully. “I don’t know why he’s doing all this, but I’m so thankful. I never would have found Eden if it wasn’t for him.”

“How’d you meet my son?” Lucy asks.

I tell her about going to the Smiling Skull that first night hoping to find Lucy. When I tell her about being drugged by Gonzalo, and Gunner saving me from whatever horrible plans Gonzalo had for me, she starts to smirk. I keep going, explaining how Gunner stayed overnight at the hotel to make sure I was okay, and then how he eventually invited me to come back to his place and use his guest room until I could figure out how to locate my sister. By the time I get done telling her everything, Lucy is shaking her head and actually laughing.

“What?” I ask in confusion.

“Good lord,” she crows. “Honey, I should have known it the second he called to tell me he needed me to watch over some woman while he went on a run.”

“Should have known what?” I can’t figure out whether to be angry or not. It feels almost like she’s making fun of me, but that’s not quite it.

“Should have known you’d gone and roped my boy.” When she stops laughing, she takes a deep breath and lets it out with a smile and a sigh. “He’s in love with you. That’s why he’s playing superman.”

“No, he’s not,” I protest, even as my heart leaps. “He just… I don’t know. I think he just felt sorry for me.”

“That’s horse shit,” she snorts. “You mean to tell me the two of you have been sleeping in separate bedrooms this whole time like a nun and a priest?”

“Well…” I stare down fixedly at my glass, frozen. Of course Lucy is right about that, but how do I admit it to Gunner’s mother — even if she already knows? Mortified, I risk a glance back up at her face, and see that she’s cocking her head at me, a triumphant look on her face.

“That’s what I thought.”

“But I mean…” I swallow, and decide to just say it. “Sex isn’t love, after all.”

“Of course not,” she agrees. “But do you honestly think Gunner did all of this just so he could get you in the sack?”

No. I know better than that. It’s obvious to me that Gunner can get sex whenever he wants. My mind involuntarily turns to Heather, and I resist the urge to grimace in disgust… and jealousy.

“Exactly,” Lucy nods, like she can read my mind. “So, what, do you need me to paint a picture for you? My boy’s fallen for you. You think he’d do this for any of the bimbos he normally sleeps with?”

I don’t know whether to be horrified by Lucy’s bluntness, or to be relieved by it. But one thing is certain: she’s not about to let me just change the subject. “I don’t know,” I shrug, my face contorting into a frustrated frown. “I don’t know what’s going on at all, really. I mean…” I shake my head helplessly. “I was trying to find out from Gonzalo where my sister was, and then all of a sudden this biker was punching him, and then he was telling me I was roofied, and then…” I spread my hands wide. “Here I am. In the middle of all this. Sitting in his mom’s kitchen. Waiting for him to save my sister.”

“And when he does — when he comes back with her — what then?”

“I don’t know. Help Eden. Get her off drugs, if she’s on them.”

“And what about you and Gunner?” Lucy prompts.

I think back to what Gunner said to me just before he brought me here to Lucy’s. Just before he left to go find my sister.

“We’ll deal with it once we get Eden out. We’ll deal with it. Okay? Promise me.”

We.

Maybe Lucy is right. Maybe she sees something I’ve been afraid to look for.

“I guess,” I say slowly, “We’ll find out if we’re a ‘we’ or not.”

* * *

As non-maternal as Lucy seems, after lunch she surprises the hell out of me by suggesting we bake cookies while we wait for Gunner to come back.

“I make a hell of an oatmeal chocolate chip,” she tells me as she reaches into a cupboard for the sugar. “Besides, it’s too early to start drinking.”

She puts me to work sifting the dry ingredients while she mixes the wet. While we do, she talks more about Gunner, at first answering questions I haven’t dared to ask.

“It’s always just been the two of us,” she says as she folds in the oatmeal. “Gunner’s dad” — she shrugs — “he’s around, somewhere. But the two of us were never together. So it’s always just been Gunner and me. And the club, eventually. They became his other family, of course. They made a man out of him.”

“How did he get involved with the club?”

“Smiley.” Lucy stirs the batter and motions me toward a low cupboard, where she keeps the cookie sheets. “He’s kinda Gunner’s stepdad, even though we never got married.”

I remember Gunner mentioning Smiley’s name at some point, but not exactly why. “Does Smiley live here, too?” I ask.

Lucy gives a short bark of laughter. “No. Smiley and me, we realized we’re better off keeping our own separate residences. The two of us are too pigheaded to live together. But if I was gonna live with a man, it would be him.” Lucy cuts a glance at me. “Gunner’s not much like his father, but he’s got a lot of Smiley’s best qualities. He’s been a good influence on my boy.”

Lucy asks me about my family back in Lynchburg. I tell her about my mom, and that Eden’s my only immediate family. Her eyes fill with sympathy, and for a moment, neither one of us speaks.

“Well,” she says abruptly, and grabs the cookie sheets from me. “We’ll get her back, and sorted out. Don’t you worry.”

We.

It’s funny how much I’ve heard that word in the last few hours. After not hearing or using it for what seems like forever.

The cookies are out of the oven and cooling when there’s a rap on the front door. Zappa, who’s been snoozing under the kitchen table, jumps up and begins barking and spinning around wildly in a circle.

“Zappa, goddamnit!” Lucy shakes her head good-naturedly at the dog and wipes her hands on a dish towel before going to answer the door, Zappa following close on her heels. From the kitchen, I hear the rumble of a deep male voice, and Lucy’s reply. A few seconds later, she comes back in, followed by a solidly built older looking man, with a broad chest, thinning silver hair and a gray beard.

“Alix, honey, this is Smiley,” Lucy says.

He nods once at me, a twinkle in his eye. “Hello there, little lady. Gunner asked me to come over here to keep you two company for a while.”

Lucy snorts. “Bullshit. He sent you over here to make sure we stayed put.”

“That, too,” Smiley grins.

I’m about to say hello to him when I suddenly remember what Gunner told me about Smiley. “You’re the one who fixed Gunner’s leg when he got shot,” I blurt out without thinking. Then I realize there’s only one way I could have seen a wound that far up on Gunner’s thigh. And that Smiley will know that, too.

He chuckles deep in his throat. “Yeah, that was me. Gunner told you about that, did he?” He gives me a broad wink. “How’s that scar healing up, anyway?”

“Um.” I start to blush, but then realize that Lucy already knows I’m sleeping with her son. “Good,” I admit. “It’s not that noticeable, anymore.”

“Well, you may as well settle in, Smiley,” Lucy tells him, affecting an eye roll but capping it off with an affectionate grin at him. “You want an oatmeal cookie?”

Smiley gives her an eye roll of his own, and snorts as he wanders toward the living room. “Fuck a bunch of cookies. Give mine to the dog. How about a beer instead? It’s five o’clock somewhere.”