“Yeah, freak-out sounds about right,” I confess.
“Lay it on me. Sometimes getting it all out puts it into clearer perspective.”
I sigh, not wanting to share. Perhaps she’s right, though, and talking about it all will help me somehow. “I agreed to work the bar here and live in Chaos’ house. My daughter can go to school with Amelia, and I basically just said yes to whatever he said. I’m a fool, right?”
“Hmm... I don’t see what the problem is. I mean, aside from Chaos not having a house, I’m sure he’ll figure that out. He’s good about taking care of the details. See, you don’t need to worry, Chaos knows what he’s doing.”
My eyes snap to hers as her words play on repeat in my mind. “What do you mean he doesn’t have a house? He told me he does.”
She twists her lips up, tapping them as she thinks. “I’ve known him for years, and I thought he’d shared about all the houses he owns, but maybe he’s bought one recently that I don’t know about. Knowing him, it wouldn’t surprise me.”
“Houses?” My mouth drops open. “Wait a second... as in plural?”
She nods, peering at me strangely. “He hasn’t told you about his career and everything else that went with it?”
Now it’s my turn to be confused and stare at her as if she has a second head. “He’s a biker,” I answer plainly. There’s no telling what he does for work, and I have a feeling he’ll always keep me in the dark on the matter.
She cracks a smile, “Oh, Hollywood...” she trails off and shakes her head. She laughs and says, “He’s so much more.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not the type of person to start something and not finish, that’s fucked-up and all, but in this case...”
“Nooo,” I drag the word out. She can’t leave me hanging right on the cusp of learning more about the man who’s swiftly become someone important to me.
She nods. “Sorry, lady, but he’s gotta tell you his own story, it’s not my place. Just hear him out, and he’ll be straight with you.”
“Fine,” I mumble. It’s not her fault, but now my curiosity is going completely haywire. It won’t stop driving me crazy either until I know exactly what she’s implying.
“I’ll do you a solid. I’ll keep your little creampuff busy if you want to hunt the man down and ask him yourself.”
“You’re sure? Trixie’s a good girl, but she talks a lot.”
She waves me off. “I love kids, especially her age... they don’t need diapers changed.”
I laugh. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll try not to take too long.”
“No worries.” She grins.
I practically jump from my seat on a mission to find the sexy biker I just promised to live with. I figure this can go one of two ways. Either he catches me off guard with something good, and I’m even more captivated by his sexy self, or I plummet. By plummet, I mean he has some sordid horrible past, and he rips half my heart out since I’ve been doing my damnedest not to give him all of it just yet. I won’t lie to myself, though. If it’s bad, I know it’ll hurt losing him already.
“Have you seen Chaos?” I ask the first brother I come across. His name is Saint, and Chaos has warned me to keep my distance. I can’t be worried about that now. However, finding Chaos is far more important.
His brow raises, his lips twisting into a sinister smile. The dude may resemble a hot model, but there’s something underlyingly scary about him. He reminds me of those crime documentaries where they talk about the suspect being handsome and charismatic, but in the end, he turns out to be a sociopathic serial killer.
He leans in, inhaling me deeply. I know he has a woman, so what the fuck? He needs to back off before this turns serious.
I shoot him an unamused frown. I’ll bust the dude in his dick, and I won’t hesitate either. He needs to watch what he does next. “Would you like to lose a body part? Because that’s where this is headed,” I adamantly warn.
His gaze sparkles as he looks me over. “Hmm... maybe you’ll do after all,” he mutters and saunters away.
Freaking psycho.
I come across Zeus next. The man is a mountain. Not as buff as Chaos, but he holds up to his name with his presence. “Hi, have you seen Chaos?”
“Superstar jock?” he asks, and I tilt my head. That’s not the first time I’ve heard him tease Chaos with that name. However, I don’t understand the meaning behind it.
“Chaos,” I repeat deadpan.
“Check the prez’s office, doll. Knock loud. Prez could be fuckin’ his ol’ lady.”
Just great.
“Thanks.” I quickly leave him for the hallway with the office, bathroom, and storage room.
The office door is wide open with a missing Chaos. Princess is in her ol’ man’s chair behind his desk. She’s got her foot propped up as she paints her toes. “Hey, any sign of Chaos?” I interrupt.
She meets my gaze, flashing a wide smile. “Hey, Hollywood. Nope, I haven’t seen him or Viking for a while. Last I saw, he was headed toward the back door, talking to someone on the phone.”
I nod, giving her a smile of gratitude and leave her to stinking up the president’s office with lacquer and acetone. She’s probably higher than a kite in that small space. At least she had the door open, or I might have found her passed out. The stuff stinks, partially why I rarely do anything special to my nails. I’m a quick swipe of clear coat and go type of girl.
I halt when I enter the kitchen. The back door looms at the other side of the room, and it has me questioning what I should do. Previously, I was told that everyone has to stay inside until Viking claims it’s safe, but I need to figure this out with Chaos.
What would they do to me if I left? Surely, they wouldn’t hurt me if the point of me staying inside is for my safety.
Fuck it.
I release a tense breath and move for the door. I’m a grown-ass woman on a mission, and any man with half a brain wouldn’t come at me with attitude for doing what I needed. If they did, well, let’s just say I wouldn’t hesitate to let them know where their opinion registers with me.
The air hits me, and it feels so damn good to breathe in the fresh scent of sunshine and grass. The clubhouse is on a vast plot of land where trees and nature surround everywhere. I understand why these rough bikers enjoy living out here so much, there’s something about the serenity from the privacy offered. I find Viking, Odin, and Chaos in a deep discussion at the back picnic table. At my interruption, Viking quickly puts out the cigarette he’d been puffing on. He stares at me while firmly warning, “You don’t tell my ol’ lady shit about me smoking.”
My hands raise as do my brows. I’m surprised that, of all things, he’s worried about his ol’ lady reaming him a new one over smoking a cigarette. It appears the big badass biker is scared of something, after all. Who knew it’d be a tiny blonde, but then again, we all have our weaknesses and vices, so I get it. “I didn’t see a thing,” I promise. I like to smoke occasionally myself, so I get it.
I meet Chaos’ curious stare next, “Can we talk?” I add, “Privately,” when the guys don’t move a muscle with my question. They obviously don’t take hints too well.