“Chelsea, please don’t hang up!” It was the third time he’d called. The first two times she just hung up. This time she planned on telling him to stop calling her, that she wasn’t going to talk to him, but she’d put the phone to her ear and he was already talking.

“Chopper, I’m at work. The only reason I keep my phone on me is in case Mom and Dad have to reach me about my son.”

“I’ll be quick, okay?…This is important…”

“I don’t have time for silly relationship games. I’m working.”

“Chelsea, please. This has nothing to do with us, okay? This is about you and your son. I spoke to Wayne today.”

“Excuse me?”

“I went to the prison and I talked to Wayne.”

“What the fuck?” As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, her boss walked out of the back. Chelsea was a good employee and she was always professional, so the look he gave her was one of curiosity, not anger. She mouthed “I’m sorry” at him and moved a few steps away. Luckily business was slow. It was dinnertime and usually the coffee drinkers would come out right after.

“Please, Chelsea, I know you think this is just about me being controlling or worried about who is responsible for what happened to my chopper, but the plain truth is that this is about protecting you…and your son. Chelsea, Wayne knows who the father is, and the news is shocking to say the least.” Chelsea’s head was spinning. She couldn’t process what he was telling her. He’d spoken to Wayne without her permission, about her and her baby, and now he thought he knew who Reed’s father was. Wayne lied as easily as he breathed, so she couldn’t imagine why Chopper would think they could believe a word he said.

“I have to get back to work.”

“What time do you finish?”

“Nine.”

“I’m going to have some of the prospects pick you up. Go with them, Chelsea, okay? Do not go back to your apartment.”

“I’m not sure who made you my lord and protector, Chopper, but I’m a big girl.”

“Chelsea, do you know who Bart Walton is?”

She rolled her eyes. Everyone in Boston knew who Bart Walton was. He was a former evangelist who was running for some public office or another. His face was all over the city on billboards, bus stops…everywhere. She actually laughed and said, “Wow, Wayne’s lies are getting bigger and better.”

“We’ll talk when I get to the ranch, okay? I should be back by ten.”

“And what if I don’t want to go with the prospects when they get here?”

“Then they’ll wait at your place with you, but one way or the other, we’re talking tonight.” He ended the call then, and she drew her brows together and frowned. What was it with her and men that wanted to control her? She growled, stuck the phone back in her apron pocket, and went back to wiping the counters. When her boss asked if she was okay, she smiled and said:

“Yes, sorry about that. My sister…she’s kind of been giving me a hard time. I promise, no more family drama on the job.” There, it wasn’t exactly a lie; Celia really was being a bitch. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to get Chopper to stop digging around in her life, stirring things up, and making things worse. With a resigned sigh she told herself that she needed to go talk to him tonight and get it over with. It was going to be hard to look him in the eye and tell him she didn’t want to see him again, because she did, so badly. But this was all too much. He was too enmeshed in her life after only a couple of weeks. If this kept up, she’d be an abused old lady doing drugs and porn on the side to keep herself from going crazy. That wasn’t going to happen to her. That wasn’t going to happen to Reed. She was his mother, first, last, and always.

Chelsea sat in the clubhouse, at a table with a glass of ice water in front of her. The people around her gave her curious glances every so often, but for the most part, they kept up with their party around her. The room was full of smoke and if she inhaled too deeply, she might test positive the next time she peed in a cup. She watched them slamming shots and shooting pool and having a great time. The club girls weren’t having illicit sex in the corners. Some of them were snuggled up to their men on the tiny little dance floor in the corner, but for the most part she could have been in any bar in any city in the world, and there wouldn’t have been much difference. They were just people having a good time, and she wondered what that would feel like. She wondered what it was like to drink to feel good, and not to kill the pain. She wondered what it was like to have friends and spend your time in a room full of men that treated you with respect and weren’t just waiting their turn to take you to the bedroom and use you.

“Chelsea?” She looked up at the sound of her name. A beautiful woman who looked like a Barbie doll was standing next to the table. She was dressed in a light blue pencil skirt and matching blazer over a cream-colored silk shirt. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a French twist and she had the prettiest complexion Chelsea had ever seen. If she thought for a second that she’d been the only one out of place there, she’d been wrong. This woman belonged on the front of Business Digest magazine.

“Yeah.”

The woman smiled. It was warm, and it looked genuine. “Hi. I’m Angel, Dax’s old lady.”

Angel Brady. Chelsea had heard the stories of the cop, who came from a family of cops, who had changed her whole life to be the queen of the Southside Skulls. She was a lawyer now if the gossip in the coffee shop was right. “Hi, Angel. It’s nice to meet you.”

“May I sit down?”

“Yes, of course.” Angel sat across from her and Chelsea suddenly yearned for being alone and not the center of curiosity again.

“Chopper is on his way. He called and asked that we let you know. I was just on my way home. I had a late deposition.” Yep, lawyer, the grapevine knew their Skulls trivia. “I’m on my way up to our house. Would you like to come up and have some tea or coffee with me while you wait? I’m sure you’d be more comfortable there.”

Chelsea smiled. Dax, or Chopper, must have told her about her history with drugs and alcohol. “It’s late and I wouldn’t want to impose…”

“No imposition at all. My little girl is having a sleepover with a friend; they have a dress-up day at school tomorrow that they’re pretty excited about.” The look on her face when she mentioned her little girl made her even more beautiful, and it made Chelsea feel envy in her heart. She longed for the days that she could be involved in things like sleepovers and dress-up days with Reed. “Dax is out. He’ll be back soon, but in the meantime, it will just be me.”

Chelsea couldn’t refuse without being rude, and besides, Angel seemed nice. “Okay. Thank you, that would be nice.” She went outside with Angel and they got into a small Toyota car. The drive to the house took them past most of the ranch. Dax’s and Angel’s house sat on the far corner lot of the ranch and it was close to the barn that Chopper had taken her to a few days before. It was a pretty white house, two stories and surrounded by a neatly kept lawn and a lot of flower bushes. There was a wraparound porch they stepped up on to get to the front door, and the inside of the house was warm, cozy, and inviting. It reminded her of her parents’ home and once again she felt a surge of envy.

“Have a seat on the couch, Chelsea. I’m going to put the kettle on and change out of this suit.”

Chelsea sat down, and Angel went through a door, presumably to the kitchen. She looked around at the photos on the mantle and the walls. Almost all of them were pictures of a little red-haired girl. She was smiling at everyone and she had that joyful glow about her that happy kids always seemed to have. Angel crossed the living room again to go change and as soon as she disappeared down the hallway, Chelsea heard the sound of a Harley. She was tense and hoping Angel was almost finished when the front door opened and Dax walked in. He didn’t seem surprised to see her, but then again, she’d seen how good he was at not showing his emotions the last time she met him. He smiled at her and said:

“Hey, Chelsea, Chopper’s not here yet?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, a growl of an engine announced the arrival of another bike. He smiled again and said, “I guess that answers my question. Where’s Angel?”

“Changing clothes.” He nodded and with his back to her he pulled off his leather jacket and then his vest. He hung them up on the tree next to the door and then he sat down on the bench there and began taking off his boots. He had one off when the knock sounded on the door. He reached over and opened it and Chopper was suddenly framed in the doorway. Chelsea’s heart reacted before her head had time to remind her that she was angry with him. It was so swollen that she could hardly breathe. She just hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Boots off,” Dax told him. Chopper pulled his eyes from Chelsea’s face, giving her a chance to breathe, and she watched him sit down next to Dax and start pulling off his boots. Her heart was still hammering in her chest, and when Angel came out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of sweats, stopped and kissed her husband, smiled at Chopper and told Chelsea she would get the tea…she was blown away by how “normal” things seemed. She could almost imagine herself here if she forgot about all the drinking, smoking, and illegal stuff growing around her. She almost laughed at the thought of the look on Celia’s face if she even suggested raising Reed in a place like this. In the neighborhood that Celia lived in, people hid their addictions and their problems. They were all perfect little Stepford wives on the surface, just like her sister.