"Okay," I agreed.
"No backseat, so you will ride with me," he went on.
"Oh, ah, I don't think you want me riding with you."
"Pretty fucking sure I do," he said, matter-of-fact.
"No, see, I have terrible balance. I can trip just standing in place."
"You'll be fine."
"I don't want to make you crash."
"It's pretty simple, babe, you just hold on. I do the rest. Think you can manage that, yeah?"
"I, ah," I started, pressing my lips together. Holding onto him? I was pretty sure I could handle that. "Yeah."
"Good. It's settled. I am going to take Belle down. You throw some shit together for the two of you and get the animals. I will come back up to help."
With that, he made his way down as I moved out to my floor, finding Huck and Seeley waiting for me.
"You good?" Huck asked, sounding genuinely concerned. Which was endearing considering he didn't know me.
"Yeah. Belle is a little, you know, shaken up. But I'm okay. I just have to get the cat and bunny," I told him.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Huck grumbled, exhaling hard as he shook his head, then turning away.
"Remy found a litter of kittens last night," Seeley informed me with a smirk. "Huck is still adjusting to four more animals in the house."
"And here I come bringing two more," I said with a grimace.
"It's fine," Seeley assured me. "He talks a lot of shit, but he never tells Remy he can't bring anymore home."
"Does he always keep them?" I asked, gathering Franklin's two cat carriers—one soft and one hard plastic—to slip him and Max into.
"No. The kittens will get new homes. He usually only keeps the ones who get too attached or who no one else wants. I think we always have the five dogs, the three cats, the parrot, and the tortoise. Everything else is just passing through on their way to new homes."
"I think it says a lot about someone when they like animals," I declared, wincing as Franklin noticed the carriers. In his limited experience, the only trips out he went on meant the doctor stuck a thermometer up his bottom, took his blood, and jabbed him with needles. He was going to scratch the hell out of me as I tried to get him in. "What? No?" I asked when there was a strange look that crossed Seeley's face.
To that, he sighed. "Figure you might be around for a while, so it might be important for you to know. Remy has some rage issues. Not ever unprovoked. But it gets ugly and bloody when it happens. Saw him nearly cave someone's head in because he found out he was trying to use a kitten as a bait cat for dog fights."
"Well, I mean, I might have tried to cave his head in too," I said, stomach churning at the idea that anyone could be that cruel to an animal. "Besides, it seems like a violent streak kind of goes hand-in-hand for your profession," I said, finding Mouse Baby and shoving him into the hard plastic carrier. I knew from experience that if Franklin was desperate enough, he could break out of the soft one. I didn't think Max the bunny would be quite as clever or determined.
"The job title does require some action movie type shit," Seeley agreed, watching me as I stalked my cat around the living room.
"Don't laugh," I demanded when I'd lunged, but Franklin hopped away, leaving me falling over the arm of the couch.
"He won't, but I might," McCoy declared, moving back into the living room as I got up from the couch.
"You? Laugh? Actually have to crack a real, genuine smile? I'll believe it when I see it," I told him with a brow raise. "Is Belle okay?"
"She's not rocking anymore. Figure that is a win. I'll grab her rabbit for her. That might help."
With that, McCoy fetched the rabbit, and after I chased Franklin for ten minutes, Seeley somehow managed to just reach down and grab the little jerk, pushing him into his cage without a scratch.
"I, ah, tired him out," I declared, a little out of breath from my exertions.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart," Seeley said with a devilish little smirk that must have really worked for him with the ladies.
After that, I gathered some basic essentials for both Belle, me, Max, and Franklin, and then we were all on the street, ready to take off.
"It's not gonna bite," McCoy said as I eyed the helmet.
"No, but I can't imagine what it's going to do to my hair," I grumbled, slipping it on.
"Climb on and hold on," McCoy demanded.
Well, that was one instruction I could follow. Happily, I might add. So happily that I was able to ignore the way my stomach flipped as we pulled away from the curb, and as we picked up speed on the way back to the clubhouse.
I just squeezed my eyes tight, grabbed him with my legs and arms, and pressed my face into his strong back, taking comfort in the strength of him. And, oddly, the smell of my body wash on his skin from the shower he'd taken before everything went topsy turvy.
"Home sweet home," McCoy said after we parked.
"At least we won't all be on top of one another here," I said, climbing off, taking off the helmet, and trying not to be vain enough to worry too much about my hair.
"Babe, you didn't hear me complaining about us being on top of each other," McCoy said, making my belly wobble. "In fact, I have plans to be on top of you, and having you on top of me a fuck of a lot in the future."
"Hey, Pretty Lady, welcome back!" Eddie greeted, coming to the doorway in a big white apron smeared in what looked to be different sauces. "I'm making lunch," he added.
"It really is like a family here, huh?" I asked as we moved inside again.
"It is. You'll fit right in," he assured me, dropping an arm over my shoulders, pulling me close to his side, and leading me through to the kitchen.
I was sure he didn't mean it in the way my hopelessly romantic heart wanted to take it. But I didn't even try to rationalize with myself about it.
Because I really, really wanted to fit right in with them.
Whether it was logical or not.
Even if it was too soon.
I guess time would tell.
You know, if we could avoid the bullets for long enough to give it a try...
Chapter Ten
Shy
Three days passed in a relative blur.
That first day involved figuring out sleeping arrangements, eating the food Eddie made, and getting to know all the animals.
Belle had been particularly interested in getting to know all of Remy's pets. It had been the only thing to bring her out of her shell that day, actually. She cooed over kittens and fed almond slivers to the parrot and cut up salad greens for the tortoise.
She didn't talk much. At least not to all the humans around. And she jumped whenever a car or bike pulled into the driveway. But she wasn't shaking. She wasn't round-eyed and curled into a ball.
I figured it was the best we could hope for.
"Animals are therapeutic," Remy told me when he caught me watching Belle swinging a feather toy at the kittens for what had to be two hours straight.
"Yeah," I agreed, turning to face him. "How are things going? Do we have anything based on the sketches?" I asked.