Unpleasant doesn’t begin to describe the sensations crawling through my body.
My teeth click together, and a chill radiates through my chest, even though I’m still sweating from the nightmare.
Careful not to wake Mallory, I search through my bag for some clean clothes. Keeping my eyes on her, I dress slowly.
She whimpers, and I freeze.
After a few seconds, she turns over.
Maybe I’m not the only one having nightmares.
I watch her for awhile, but she seems peaceful now.
Sunlight’s barely peeking through the blankets nailed up over the window. Yesterday was a long, rough journey. She should be out for a couple more hours.
Enough time for me to get myself sorted.
The lock snicks into place behind me as I step into the hallway. I pause, listening for signs the noise woke Mallory.
Nothing.
All clear.
Most of the doors I pass in the hallway are shut. Snores and… other sounds filter past the aging hard wood.
“Where you headed?” My father’s gravelly voice cuts through the mostly silent clubhouse.
Peering through the hazy glow cast by the neon signs over the bar, I make out his form, lounging on one of the couches against the far wall. A girl’s stretched out on the lumpy cushions with her head in his lap. She seems familiar, but I can’t place her.
Did I go to high school with her?
Doesn’t matter.
“Out,” I answer.
“Where?”
“To clear my head.”
He curls two fingers, motioning me closer.
Fuck, just what I don’t need. The way I’m feeling right now, I won’t stand up to an interrogation.
I’m about two feet away when he asks, “Where?”
“Don’t know.”
“You walking?”
Good point.
“Keys for the truck are in my office.”
“Thanks.”
The weight of his stare follows me, but I keep moving. One foot in front of the other.
I grab the keys off his desk and force myself to take a breath.
Need some fresh air to cure my restlessness. I’ll take a drive. Doesn’t have to be anything more than that.
“Shouldn’t you get some sleep, old man?” I ask when I return to the common area.
“I slept.”
“And now you’re sitting here in the dark like a fuckin’ owl?”
He grumbles and waves off the question. “Mallory okay?”
“She’s asleep.”
“I’m gonna look for a car for her to use while you’re here. Know what she’d like?”
That’s a shift in conversation I didn’t expect. “Why?”
He nods to the keys in my hands. “She can’t drive that beat up thing.”
“No, I mean where does she need to go?”
He tilts his head and levels one of his penetrating ‘are you stupid’’ stares at me. “No need to make her feel like a hostage. Here, she’s got plenty of people to give her a ride, but once you settle into the house, what’s she supposed to do?”
“We’re not settling into the house. We need to be back in L.A.”
He continues staring a hole through me.
I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. My father’s gonna do whatever the fuck he wants.
And I really need to get out of here.
“I don’t think she’s picky.” I try to adopt a more humble tone. “Thanks for thinking of that, Dad.”
His suspicious father stare doesn’t relent. “Jay said something came into the garage that might work. You want to come down and look at it with me?”
“Yeah, sure. Later, though.”
He narrows his eyes.
I blink.
He doesn’t.
A bead of sweat rolls down the side of my face.
“Well, I’ll be back.” I turn and hustle away.
“Stay out of trouble,” he calls after me.
I wave at him over my shoulder and push through the front door, relieved to escape into the chilly first flush of morning.
As much as I resent my father’s warning, I needed to hear it.
Too bad, I still get in the truck and head to downtown Kodack. I suppose it would’ve been easier to break into our warehouse and “borrow” what I need, but I’d never steal from my club.
Nope. I’ll roll into the city and purchase my coke like every other addict. Even if I were an active member, I wouldn’t want to use any Devil Demons MC contacts for this particular endeavor. Which means, it takes a while to locate a trustworthy looking fellow who isn’t offended when I only want to purchase a quarter gram. Bad sign. Whatever I’m about to buy has probably been stepped on so much, it’ll be more cornstarch than cocaine. Maybe that’s a good thing. I can wean myself off the shit instead of this insanity of stopping cold.
“See you tomorrow.” He grins at me.
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
Tomorrow. Fuck that. This is all I need. A little bit to get through this first day and then I’ll be fine.
No more after today.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Mallory
For the third day in a row, I wake up alone.
Maybe it’s time to book a flight back to L.A.
I promised Chaser I’d help him through this.
Except he won’t let me help him. So far, he’s disappeared every day and returned high. I can’t decide whether I’m annoyed that he thinks I’m too stupid to notice or flattered he’s making an effort to pretend everything is normal.
We barely speak. I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’ll start screaming and never stop. This has to be the lowest point in our relationship. While I’m aware our lives can’t always be sparkles and rainbows, it doesn’t mean I enjoy him lying and sneaking around.
On the outside, I smile and help out around the clubhouse as much as possible.
Inside, I’m boiling over with fury.
Underneath my anger, I’m scared.
What’s he doing all day? Is he in danger? Who’s he with?
Worst of all, what if Chaser can’t beat his addiction?
How long do I stay here and help someone who doesn’t want to be helped?
After breakfast, Stump summons me into his office.
“Chaser’s not here.” I stall. Being alone with Stump still scares me.
“I ain’t looking for him. You and me need to talk.” Clearly people don’t often say no to Stump. Guess that explains where Chaser gets his bossiness from.
Feeling like a naughty kid in trouble, I follow Stump through the clubhouse into his office.
He motions for me to take the seat across from his desk. “How you doing, princess?” he asks after he settles into his chair.
“Okay.”
Kicking back, he thumps his boot-clad feet on the edge of the desk and clasps his hands behind his head. “I want you to be straight with me. This isn’t a protect-your-man sort of chat we’re about to engage in here.”
“Uh, what do you want me to say?”
“Where you at with my son?”
“What do you mean? I left work behind to help him get better.” I stare him straight in the eye without flinching. “I’m here.” I’m tempted to add “but not for long if your son keeps lying to me.”