“Okay.” I doubt an employer is going to be able to work with those hours and I can’t help but feel a little defeated.

I pick up a chip and munch on it. One bite and I’m in heaven. The salty flavor bursts on my tongue and I close my eyes for a moment and savor it. My stomach growls between the first bite and the second.

Dozer watches me.

I dig into my sandwich next. After I swallow the first bite, I try to distract him for watching me eat. “You know, I didn’t know a biker could be such a nice guy.”

He gives me a wicked grin. “Don’t go spreadin’ it around. I have a reputation to uphold.”

The red-haired, older biker with a long beard comes over and takes Dozer’s attention away, which gives me time to finish my food. When I’ve eaten every last crumb, I push the plate forward.

Dozer glances over to me. “You were fuckin’ starvin’, huh?”

I grimace and wipe my mouth. “Sorry, was it that noticeable? And here I was trying to eat like a lady.”

The red-haired biker raises an eyebrow. “You full, sweetheart? ‘Cause if not, I could get Rigor to round ya up some more. I’m Griz, by the way.” He holds out his hand to me and I shake it.

I’m feeling overly stuffed. My stomach’s shrunk in the last month. It’s down to the size of a tennis ball. “Thanks, but I don’t think I can eat another bite.”

He smiles and his smile even reaches his soft hazel eyes. “Us gingers gotta stick together. You need anything, darlin’, you let me know.” He picks up my hand and kisses it, which earns him some hooting and hollering from the peanut gallery around us, before he drops my hand and walks away.

Dozer turns to me. “See, we’re not all assholes.”

“I see that. Thanks for giving me a chance.” And I mean it. It’s nice to have someone on my side. Makes me feel like I’m not an inch small anymore.

“You’re welcome.”

“You know, you’re built like an ox, but I’m starting to think maybe you’re a big ol’ softy.”

Two seats down from me, Goose spits beer out all over the bar. Then I realize what I said and how it could be misconstrued.

Laughter rings out around us again. Jeezus . . . did I really just say that?

Dozer flashes a flirtatious smile. He yanks my chair closer. “Softy, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. Tell you what . . . in thirteen days, I’ll make sure to introduce you to some of my harder parts.”

“Oh, God, I didn’t—I’m sorry.”

He chucks my chin. “No really, it would be my pleasure.” He focuses on my lips. His hand rests on my thigh. He leans over and murmurs close to my ear, so only I can hear. “You’re gonna have the whole club house lined up to taste you by then. But, you can bet, I’ll be the first in line.”

I bite my bottom lip and look up at him. He’s flirting with me and now is the time I have to start playing the part of the girl who wants to be here. With him. With a bunch of bikers.

His steely eyes flare as they watch my mouth. “Yeah, you’re gonna be trouble.”

I arch a brow. “And you’re not a fan of trouble?”

His hand slides up my leg until his fingers breach the hem of my shorts. “Not usually, but I think I could get addicted to your kind of trouble.”

We flirt for a few minutes. But eventually he groans and removes his hands from me. “Shit, you’re gettin’ me all worked up, babe. Not gonna end well for me.” He stands, laughs, and winks as he adjusts himself. Then he says, “Better get this part over with.” Spinning me around on my stool, he has me facing the room. He again places his big hands on my shoulders. He yells to be heard over the music. “HOCs listen up. Pumpkin, here, is Edge’s welcome home gift.” Cheers ring out. “She’s hands off until after the party.” Boo’s follow that statement. “Any of you fuckers so much as touch her, and you’ll be smacked with a thousand dollar fine. And a beat down from the entire club.”

“You’re touchin’ her,” the cute blond with a nice smile shouts. I believe his name is Bodie.

“That’s because I’m gonna be her protection from you sick fucks for the next twelve days.”

Lily puts her hand in mine, and I startle a little until I realize it’s her. With her, it’s harder to hide my anxiety. It’s almost as if she knows exactly what I’m feeling.

“Come on. Let me show you around, and you can shower and get cleaned up. I’ll find you some clean clothes, too.” I suddenly feel drained, but I give her a weak smile.

“Hold up.”

We turn back to Dozer.

He reaches into his pocket and produces a key. Hands it to Lily. “She’ll be stayin’ in my room. She can shower in there.”

Before taking the key, she eyes him for a moment. “You sure?” she asks him and gets a terse nod in response.

She tangles her arm with mine and leads me out of the main room.

I get the impression that his gesture means something significant. But what, I have no idea.

It feels like it’s been days since I’d left the shelter. And although I took a shower earlier, I can’t pass up the opportunity for another, especially a shower with hot water, non-generic shampoo, and a sense of privacy I haven’t had in weeks.

When I finish, I wipe the mirror of steam and stare at myself.

No matter how much I try to forget my mother, I see her in my reflection every day. Almost as if I see her before I see myself in the mirror, and I have to analyze my features over and over again to identify the differences that make me . . . me. Like how my hair’s always been a few shades darker than hers, and is even more so now from my failed attempt to dye my red hair brown. Also my eyes aren’t quite the same color, because where hers were only blue, mine have a burst of green. And lastly, my freckles. Something she had but only across the bridge of her nose. Which makes me think that maybe mine were a gift from my sperm donor of a father.

My mother used to tell me that each freckle on my body was a blessing given to me by the angels. I believed her until I was sixteen and learned how full of shit she truly was.

It’s ironic that I look so much like her and nothing like Sunny.

My heart pinches in the next instant as I think of Will.

I miss our songs. Reading her stories at night. Tucking her in like a bug in a rug. Sometimes when she’d have bad dreams, she’d come crawl into my bed, and there’s nothing better in this world than waking up to a warm and cuddly, curly-haired angel.

Tears brim in my eyes and fall over. I let three escape before clenching my eyes shut, stopping that train of thought. I can’t afford to get lost in thoughts of Will. Because I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to function. I’ll save them for another time. Another day. When I’m safe and alone, and free to wallow for more than a minute at a time.

I force myself to get ready, pull a comb through my hair, and use the blow dryer, curling iron, hygiene items, and the make-up Lily brought me.

Stepping out of the bathroom in a towel, I head over to the collection of clothes she left on the bed.

Dozer’s room smells of leather and oil, and his woodsy cologne. It also has the added stench of stale food, sex, and spilled alcohol, judging by the look of the stains on the floor. At least, I hope it’s alcohol and not something else.

I’m tempted to start cleaning up the mess, but the door swings open and Lily walks in. She’s added a leather vest to her kickass outfit, and I notice right away the club insignia marking her as HOC property.

“I stole anything I thought might fit. Don’t worry about givin’ it back. It’s survival of the fittest around here. They’ll probably bitch. But all the girls here steal clothes from each other. So they’ll get over it.”

“I have no idea how to dress. I mean for this place,” I admit.

Lily sits on the edge of the bed. “I know. But no one expects you to. The club colors are pale yellow, orange, and dark red. Or anything along that line. Wear those or brown or black. Gray’s a safe color too, and girly colors like pink, purple.