I nod even though it’s not my favorite way to eat eggs because it’s the fastest way to get them on the plate and eaten so we can get out of here and back to the room that only moments ago was driving me crazy.
Ryan makes small talk as he cooks, instructing me to the toaster, and not frowning or looking disappointed when I end up right by his side.
When he’s done, and without me asking, he situates us on the far side of the room, tucked away but with the ability to see the entire room.
I scarf down my eggs and toast, wanting to rush through breakfast, but Ryan eats slowly, each bite deliberately chewed as if he’s concerned about his digestive health. I want to tilt his head back, wedge open his mouth and pour his breakfast down his throat because he’s taking so long, but I end up distracted by a young girl that walks in. Dressed in nothing but a thigh-length silk robe, she’s disheveled and looks exhausted, and she doesn’t seem happy to be here. I don’t know much about biker gangs, and Ryan has assured me more than once that they’re not anything like what I would’ve seen on TV or watched in some criminal documentary, but the evidence of this place being like those shows is walking like a zombie to the coffee pot.
Makeup is smudged on her face, and her hair is worse than a rat’s nest. She looks used and uncaring of her appearance, and her eyes are empty, much like many of the girls back at the compound.
I don’t realize I’m trembling until Ryan lays his hand over the top of mine.
“Hey, Gigi,” Ryan says to the woman rather than speaking to me.
She turns her head in our direction, lifting her hand for a little wave.
“Too much fun at the party last night?”
The woman, Gigi, as Ryan called her, scoffs. “I wish.”
She reaches for two cups before filling each to the brim.
“Amelia is teething again. We were both up all night trying to soothe her. See ya later.”
She shuffles out of the kitchen, a cup of coffee in each hand.
“That’s Kincaid’s daughter. Well, one of them. She has a twin. She’s also with Hound, and they have a baby together.”
“She doesn’t seem happy to be here,” I mutter, even though I saw the missing spark in her eyes reignite when she spoke about her daughter.
“I imagine mornings are rough after tending to a cranky baby all night,” he says. “She’s usually more put together than that.”
“The president lets his underage daughter stay in a relationship with one of his bikers.”
He smiles at me, his eyes darting back and forth between mine.
“What?” My eyebrows draw together.
“I never thought that we’d be talking about someone else when you finally decided that talking can be a good thing.”
I roll my eyes, focusing on my empty coffee cup on the table rather than responding to him.
“Gigi is twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. I can’t really keep track. She’s grown, and I don’t know much about her, but I do know that I don’t think Kincaid could’ve stopped what was going on between those two. If you ever see them together, you’ll understand.”
“I’m sor—”
Ryan’s phone rings in his pocket before I can finish apologizing for jumping to the wrong conclusion. Instead of silencing it like he normally does, he stands from the table.
“I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”
Thankfully he doesn’t go far. I can still see his shoulder on the other side of the kitchen door. Jinx left before we plated our breakfast, so I’m the only one in here right now. After being snapped at by Ryan, Rocker didn’t even come back to make a cup of coffee.
“I can’t,” Ryan hisses into the phone. “I told you why.”
My head tilts as I try to listen harder.
“Seriously, Kirsty. Now isn’t a good time.” He sighs again. “I don’t know. I’m helping her. She needs me. We’ve discus—”
He growls, pulling the phone away from his ear, making it clear that the woman on the other end isn’t happy and hung up on him.
I snap my eyes back down to my plate before he turns to come back in.
Sorrow clogs my throat with the realization that I’ve kept this man from his life for the better part of two weeks. I didn’t ask if he had a girlfriend or a significant other in his life, yet here I am, coming in between what he has with her.
This is unacceptable, and since it’s a new year, things will change today.
Chapter 7
Scooter
“You okay?” I lean in close to Mia so she’s the only one that can hear my question.
She nods but refuses to meet my eyes.
I thought her going to the kitchen was a huge step. I tried my damnedest to make her comfortable, keeping the conversation going and not making a big deal when she clearly freaked first with Jinx sitting at the table and again when Rocker walked in without a shirt on, but it may have been too much for her.
Now we’re sitting in the living room as it fills up with bedraggled Cerberus men, and she’s frozen beside me. I’ve asked more than once if she wanted to head back to my room, but each time she’s shaken her head no, refusing to leave her spot on the sofa beside me.
Her eyes dart everywhere, taking in the men playing pool, the two talking near the stereo system, and a couple of guys bantering playfully near the foosball table.
Every once in a while, a shiver runs up her spine, but she’s made no move to get up and leave.
As the minutes pass, my concern for her only grows. I’m relieved she’s wanting to hang out and leave the confines of the bedroom, but it seems like it’s more to her detriment than helping her ease back into things.
Things were looking up. She spoke more at the breakfast table than she ever has in one sitting when Gigi walked out, but now her lips are clamped shut. I have no idea where Max is, but I find myself wishing he was here with us, if only to add another person around her that makes her more comfortable.
A yell from the other side of the room draws my attention, but it’s more of a casual look in the direction of the guys as they bump chests, arguing mildly over a lost game of pool.
It’s more for Mia, I realize, when she begins to shake uncontrollably.
“Act like men or go to your rooms,” Hound mutters as he walks past Jinx and Grinch.
“He fucking cheated,” Grinch sneers.
“Winning isn’t cheating, asshole,” Jinx counters. “Quit being a fucking baby.”
They shove each other, but it’s not like they’re going to go to full-out blows, but when I turn to face Mia to assure her that everything is fine, her hands are clamped on the hem of her shirt so tight her knuckles are turning white.
“Ready to go?” I ask again.
Her head works up and down at a violent rate, but it seems she’s unable to take her eyes off the guys arguing across the room. I have no idea why she’s reacting this way, but maybe she saw some pretty violent shit back in Miami.
I don’t question her in front of everyone. I simply pick her up and walk out of the room with her. As if she’s come to her senses, she wiggles to get out of my arms when we make it to the entrance to the hallway.
“They won’t hurt each other. We’re all like brothers, and even though I don’t really know what that was like growing up, I can tell you that men argue and fight, and then things are back to normal.”