“I’m going to pay you back.”
“If it makes you feel better to think that, go ahead. But that isn’t happening,” I added, smiling when she let out a long-suffering sigh, like I was being a pain in her ass.
I figured that was a good thing.
Because she’d never been around a man she could show her annoyance with. She felt comfortable enough with me to make it clear she was frustrated with me.
“So, what do you want to do first? Hardware store for paint? Furniture store?”
“Ah, wherever we can get cleaning supplies, maybe? Everything has a fine coat of dust,” she added, swiping a finger across the molding on the door, wincing at the dirt on her finger. “And maybe we can pick up a couple design magazines?”
“Sure, sounds like a plan,” I agreed, nodding. “But you might want to check out Pinterest for design too.”
“I, ah, I don’t have a phone or computer,” she reminded me, making me realize I needed to remedy that. I needed to be able to get in touch with her if I wasn’t around. And she damn sure needed to be able to call me. As for the computer, well, I figured it might be a good way for her to continue to figure out what she wanted the rest of her life to look like, so I made a mental note to get that shit handled later too.
Several hours later, the apartment smelled like a mixture of lemon and bleach, despite all the windows jacked open to let in fresh air.
“Shit,” I grumbled down at my phone.
“What? Is something wrong?” she asked, tensing immediately, making me realize I needed to be more careful about shit like that. She was always going to jump to worse-case scenarios when she thought something was the matter.
“Nothing, love. I have church.”
“Church?” she repeated. “I, um, I didn’t realize you were, you know, religious.”
Surprised, a laugh bubbled up and burst out. It had been so long since I’d been around someone who wasn’t in the biker lifestyle, that I forgot not everyone knew the lingo.
“‘Church’ is just another way to say a meeting for us. It’s mandatory for all members.”
“All,” she repeated, frowning. “Dezi too,” she added.
I could practically hear her racing thoughts. If I had to go, and Dezi had to go, and all the other guys had to go, and she wasn’t supposed to be at the clubhouse, then who was going to keep an eye on her?
“I’ll be okay,” she said immediately, forcing a smile that looked painful.
“I’m not leaving you alone, Abs,” I said, shaking my head. “I just need to figure out which of the girls is around to come hang.”
“The girls.”
“Princesses. Don’t worry, each and every one of them can whoop our asses on a good day. They’re highly trained and capable, even though I don’t think you have the need for that right now.”
That said, I was leaning toward one of the “would kick someone’s ass just for looking at them wrong” princesses. I felt more comfortable with that.
Which left me with who?
Ferryn, but she was always busy.
Hope, but she was married to her job most days.
Maybe Layna or Violet if they were in town.
I went ahead and shot of texts to all of them with a short rundown of the situation, and my need for some coverage just for a couple of hours.
“Do you have to go now?” Abigail asked, voice tight, when my phone beeped a couple of minutes later.
“I’m not going anywhere until someone else is here with you,” I told her.
As I figured, Ferryn was out of town.
But, to my surprise, Hope, Layna, and Vi were all around and ready to head over. In fact, I found myself in the middle of their back-and-forth conversation about who was bringing what and speculation about Abigail and me.
“Alright. You’re about to be invaded,” I told her, wincing a little. “I fucked up and texted everyone at once, so three of the girls are heading over. Hope, Layna, and Violet.”
“Hope is the private investigator,” she said.
“Yeah.”
“And Violet is a, ah, skip-chaser?” she half-asked.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding, not remembering telling her that.
“And Layna is a gambler.”
“Among other things,” I agreed. “Did we talk about them?”
“Dezi did,” she told me.
“I know they might sound intimidating,” I told her, “but they’re all nice. You don’t have to worry about that. You okay?” I asked when her gaze seemed far off.
“Yeah. I just… I’ve never really been around a lot of women,” she admitted. “I mean, aside from when I was young. The women at church. But other than that…”
“I think you’re going to like it. And they’ll probably be more helpful about decorating than I am,” I told her.
But that was a bald-faced lie.
Because Hope wasn’t home long enough to decorate her own place. Violet was never in one place very long, so she preferred to crash at family members’ houses instead of having her own place. And Layna, well, I wasn’t sure what her living situation was, but she didn’t seem to keep a place all the time either.
But they would be a fun distraction for Abigail. Whenever the princesses got together, there was always a lot of laughing and fun to be had. I wanted that for Abigail. Especially since her life had been so full of men for so long. And she’d scarcely ever had a friend in sight.
The princesses were good with just… pulling the new girls into the fold. You got wrapped up in the whirlwind of them. And, soon enough, you were one of them.
Abigail could use some badass, strong women in her life. I figured that maybe it would help her slowly start to realize her own worth and her own strength.
Not half an hour later, there was a clatter on the floor below, sets of shoes on the creaky stairs.
Across from me, Abs tensed a bit, clearly feeling a little out of her element, not sure what to expect from these strange women.
It was Layna who burst in first, carrying two boxes of pizza and a six-pack of soda.
Layna was willowy like her mom—Lenny—with these big, gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes that were surrounded by long, lush lashes that most people could only have if they got fake ones glued on. Her face was soft and round, very hyper-feminine. She offset that hyper-femininity with almost masculine clothing—jeans that were neither loose nor tight, a cream-colored tank, a brown leather jacket that was creased with age, and matching brown combat boots.
“How’d you get pizza that fast?” I asked, shaking my head.
To that, Layna’s lips twitched.
“It helps when you take a mafia dude to the cleaners at a poker game. And that said mafia dude owns a string of pizza places.”
“You’d think Lucky would put your order to the back of the list for taking all his money.”
“I gave him his watch back with the agreement that I get priority when I place a pizza order. So, you’re my protection detail,” she said, glancing over at Abigail who seemed to actively be trying to make herself appear smaller.
“You’re in good hands. I am armed and very, very sick of the male species, so I would be quite happy to stick a bullet—or fifty—in one should they show up with bad intentions. Honestly, even if they just say hello the wrong way. That’s the point I’m at with his kind,” she said, shooting small eyes at me. “I’m Layna,” she said as she put the pizza and soda down on the stove and counter.