TWENTY-TWO

Dagne

Hooch has been gone for a little over a week without contact. Life with the Fallen Aces, Lincoln, is comfortable, but I still feel as though I’m the square peg in the round hole. I’m not a true biker chick, and the whores love to remind me of that daily. According to some I’ve attracted the attention of their favorite men, but what can I do about that? I have Scandinavian heritage from my father, and a gorgeous mother—it was bound to produce something pleasing on the eye.

Doesn’t mean I aim to use it to my advantage at every turn.

“I’m heading out to get the boss lunch. You wanna come for a ride?” Dog hesitates beside the sofa I’m curled up on.

We’ve become pretty good friends over the last week. He’s not as cocky as he’d like everyone to think under that brusque exterior. He’s just a lost soul, a lot like me. Difference is, he’s found his niche.

“Sure. Give me five?”

“I’ll meet you out front.”

He gets it; being here twenty-four-seven drives me insane. I need the change of scenery to feel as though I’m still wandering, still looking, still have hope.

King, the Lincoln chapter’s president, told me the second day I was here that they’d cleared any chance of me being on the police’s radar. Sure enough, an APB had been put out for Hooch—suspect wanted for two counts of murder—but nobody was looking for me.

And especially not for his “dead” sister.

Mel is an anomaly of the system. She was reported murdered a year ago, her body supposedly found in the woods outside Kansas City. She was wiped from the records and given a free pass through the rest of her life, provided she didn’t screw it up.

Kind of makes me wish I’d thought to do that myself. Maybe it would have been easier to live life as a ghost rather than unwanted? Maybe then Mom would have forgiven me in death, possibly believed the things I said.

I freshen up in the bathroom, tying my auburn hair back into a thick, bushy pony at the base of my head. Makeup was never my thing travelling, especially since I never had much money to pay for it. But Digits procured a few basics for me, and the last few days I’ve at least had mascara and a thin line of eyeliner on. I’ve got to say, my hazel eyes have never looked so sharp.

Dog is seated in the truck when I step out the clubhouse door, engine running and some mix of southern rock playing loud on the stereo. He pats his hand against the outside of the door, singing along as I climb in my side.

“You’ve got a good voice, you know.”

He smirks. “Doubt it.”

“You do.”

He eyes me skeptically. “How you likin’ it here?”

“It’s a roof over my head that I’m grateful for.” I stare out the side window, wondering what Hooch is doing right now. Is he warm, safe, and fed?

Is he alive?

“I’ve heard that there’s questions comin’ from down south about how you are.”

“Hooch has made contact?” I ask hopefully.

Dog shakes his head, turning us onto the road that leads toward town. “Nope. You make any other friends while you were there?”

I rack my brain. “Beth?” She was the only person I can think of that I really bonded with for any length of time.

“Try again.” I don’t miss the curl to his lips. He’s enjoying this.

Oh, God. “Digits,” I moan.

“Bingo, sweet lady.” He casts me a curious glance. “What’s the story there?”

“No story,” I state a little too loud. “He was the one who gave me the lift back to the clubhouse. He’s the reason I ended up tangled up with you bunch. He helped me out at the start when Hooch was doing everything he could to make me feel unwanted. Digits bought me toiletries, loaned me spare clothes to use when I was doing work around the place. He was just helpful.”

“Uh-huh.”

I twist my body to face him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Brothers don’t normally ask after a woman outside the club unless it’s serious.”

“Is that so?” I cock an eyebrow at him.

“Yep. If it’s totally platonic, then best you make that clear next time you see him.”

“Yeah, well,” I say, “the likelihood of me returning to Fort Worth is pretty darn slim. Even if I could, I don’t think I’d want to.”

He brings the truck to a stop at an intersection, checking both ways before he continues. “You’re a real mystery, Dagne, you know?”

“I get that feeling, yeah.”

He shrugs. “So open up a little, loosen up and let us in. We ain’t all that bad.”

Why? It’s obvious that I don’t belong. “Even if I wanted to, Dog, it’s been made real clear to me that I’m not welcome in your club long term.”

“Yeah?” he scoffs. “By who? The property?”

“I still don’t get why you call the single women that.” The boy’s club mentality still gets me.

“They ain’t exactly single. They’re just not claimed.”

“Claimed? What the fuck is this? The eighteen hundreds?”

He laughs, a full on raucous belly rumble. “No, lady. It’s just the way it is; the way it’s always been.”

Goes to show how much I have to learn if I really do want to hang around. Therein lies the problem though? Can I stick it out? One week without Hooch and I’ve already got itchy feet.

The only thing that’s kept me rooted, is that kiss.

My fingers linger near my mouth as I turn back to the window, the memory as fresh as if it were yesterday. I can’t pinpoint what it is about the man that has me so captivated, other than the definite feeling he wasn’t always this way.

“How much do you know about Hooch?” I ask, turning my head to catch Dog’s reaction.

“A little.” He eyes me cautiously. “What did he say to you?”

“That he used to be the joker. What changed?”

“Family did.”

I nod, pulling my legs up onto the seat beside me. “He mentioned something about problems growing up.”

“No way, lady. That wasn’t the problem. Losing his old man, and sister last year almost killed him.”

“Both of them? He only told me about the hit on Mel.”

“Happened the same day,” he levels. “Look, I don’t feel comfortable tellin’ you everything, so I’ll just tell you what you can find in the papers anyway. His oldest sister, the middle child of the family, supposedly got murdered.” He glances across as though to make sure I’m catching on.

“Mel.”

“Right. But you know what happened there; she was put into hiding. Anyway, some shit went down with the guy who took credit for it, Carlos Redmond, and Hooch’s old man and baby sister met the reaper before the week was out. They held a service for Judas, that’s his dad, and Dana, his sister, but without bodies it was a bit weird.” He sighs, hands gripping the wheel tight. “From what I overheard, he didn’t take that too well. Went on a bender and spent the better part of a month wasted off his face on coke and booze.”

“I can see how that would be hard.” Makes my problems trivial in comparison, and yet he didn’t chastise me in the slightest when I let him get a peek at my history. “What about his mom?”

“Nobody’s seen that bitch for years. I ain’t ever met her, but the stories about her from the old boys aren’t all that high in the praise department.”

“He didn’t say much about her, really.”

“He doesn’t say much about anything.”

It’s usually the ones who need to, that don’t. Dog and I ride in silence for the rest of the trip. I opt to sit in the truck while Dog collects King’s favorite for lunch—nachos with everything—and run through the pros and cons of staying in my head as I people watch.

On the plus side, I’m fed. All they’ve asked for in return so far is to help out around the place where I can. But how long that hospitality lasts, I don’t know. The “property” as Dog called them, made it pretty clear that women who don’t belong to anyone don’t usually stick around long if they aren’t prepared to shake what their mamma gave them for the men’s enjoyment.

Also on the negative side is the glaringly obvious: I’ve got no interest in becoming a biker’s woman. And let’s face it; Hooch is the only reason I’d stick around.

Still, it’s enough to keep me curious, and the niggle of never knowing if I don’t try has me ready to stick out the hell that is feeling as though I’ve over-stayed my welcome for a little longer.

Dog climbs into the cab with me, handing the cardboard container over. “What’d you decide?”

“Huh?” I settle the package on my lap, buckled up and ready to go.

“You coming back, then?” He gives me a knowing smile.

“What made you think I wouldn’t?”

He indicates to my feet as I rearrange my legs over top of my bag. “You bought all your worldly possessions with you.”

Busted. “I wasn’t sure, okay?”

“But you’re settled now?”

“Settled, no. Made peace for now, yes.” I offer him a wane smile. “Take me home, Dog.”