“You know I’ll help out if you ever need me to. With the kids or at the bar. I’m not looking for a full time job, but I can sling drinks or clean tables for a night or two if you get in a bind.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I do.”

“That’s nice of you to help out,” Kendra says to me. Nick nods and appraises me, which has my nerves perking up again.

I shrug. “I needed a job and a place to stay. Bethany was nice enough to give me a chance.”

Kendra gestures toward the pie in my hands. “Here let me take that inside for ya.”

“Oh . . . sure. Thanks.” I hand it over.

Blaire comes over and greets everyone cordially, except me. She’s not as welcoming or as sassy sweet as Kendra. In fact, the way she’s looking at me makes me feel as if I’m wearing stilettos and a short skirt. The other old ladies catch on to the tension and the conversation feels a bit forced after that. The entire time I can feel Blaire’s cold stare boring into me. She doesn’t want me here. That much is obvious.

I’m tempted to make an excuse to get away, maybe take Medda to play with the other kids. I’d feel more comfortable around a bunch of children, but my gut tells me chickening out isn’t the best thing to do. I get the feeling weak women don’t last long here.

“Ma, when are the guys supposed to get back?” Taffy asks as she strolls back toward our little group.

“Anytime now,” Nick states.

Medda’s playing with the silver bracelets Bethany loaned me. She lets out a little giggle each time I shift my arm up and down and her little fingers get stuck between them, like it’s a game. I love her laugh. So carefree. It helps sooth my nerves and gives me something else to focus on besides the death stare I’m receiving.

“You’re good with her,” Nick comments.

I glance up at her. “Oh . . . thanks.” Feeling the need to say more, I go on. “I have a five-year-old niece. I watched her all the time when she was little like this.”

Bethany’s eyes widen a bit at my confession. I know this is news to her and along with everyone else. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to share that.

“Mind if I steal her from you?” Blaire asks.

“Not at all,” I lie as I hand Medda over to the woman glaring at me.

Bethany speaks up. “It’s been nice having Doll at the house. Medda loves her and Axel is warming up to her.

“What happened to your other sitter? That neighbor of yours?” Nick asks.

“Mrs. Rhodes? She’s getting old and I don’t really trust her anymore with Medda. I caught her sleeping the last two times when I went to pick Medda up. She’s on some new medication that makes her tired all the time.”

“What I wanna know is why aren’t you callin’ if you need help?” Nick’s mouth pinches tight and tension rises in the circle of women.

“Ma!” Taffy chides.

“What?”

Bethany takes a deep breath, and says, “I . . . I don’t want to keep putting you guys out. You have your own lives—”

Nick cuts her off. “Nonsense. We’re family. Those could have been my grandbabies. You need help—you reach out. And I’m not askin’. You understand?”

Silence descends in our little circle. Bethany nods and looks away.

It’s then I notice people walking out of the yard.

“Oh. Good. They’re here!” Nick exclaims. A huge grin lights up her face. “Come on, ladies. I haven’t seen my nephew in five years and I’m not waitin’ another minute.”

Someone shuts off the music and I hear the thunderous roar of a storm, or more accurately, the sound of a group of motorcycles riding down the road.

This same sound had me tensing as a child, thinking my sister’s nightmare was yet again coming to call.

I hang back, using the kids as an excuse. “I’ll keep an eye on the little ones,” I tell them. I reach out for Medda. Although Blaire looks reluctant to do so, she hands Medda back to me.

I’m not ready to see Mav. My gut is twisting and turning, and I think I’m going to be sick.

As the seconds tick by, the rumble of the motors gets louder and I hear cheers break out from the partygoers. They’re yelling, shouting, and clapping. The growl of the motors carries on and then bikes start being revved. The sound is so loud and the bikes so near, I swear I can feel the ground vibrate beneath my feet.

I hug Medda tighter to me and when she looks up at me, I force myself to smile back at her. Some of the kids pause and glance toward the end of the clubhouse. A few run toward the sound, while some of the other kids who look unsure come closer to me.

The roar quiets little by little and finally, the last motor cuts off. I can still hear people out front, but it almost seems deathly quiet compared to how loud it was before.

By the time the partygoers start to make their way to backyard again, my insides are revolting. I can feel a panic attack brewing and I’m regretting offering to watch the kids. If I hadn’t, I could hide, leave, run. Get away before Mav has the chance to see me and see that yes, I’m still here, waiting like the poor lust-lovesick girl I am, to see which version of him will greet me now that he’s back.

I walk toward Bethany when I see her. Her eyes widen at what must be my anxious expression.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Can you take Medda? I’m not feeling so great,” I mutter as I hand Medda to her.

Using the backdoor, I enter the clubhouse and go to the kitchen sink. Leaning over it, I suck in deep breaths and force myself to keep swallowing, pushing down the nausea that’s threatening to rise.

Breathe, Em. Breathe

“It’s fine. You’re fine,” I say to myself.

Then boisterous shouts draw my attention and I look out the kitchen window. HOCs flood into the backyard with everyone else. I don’t see Mav. I search, but he’s nowhere in sight. Maybe he’s hiding from me too.

Dozer and another man walk into the yard with huge smiles over their faces, their arms on each other’s shoulders. The other man is wearing HOC colors, and I recognize him from the pictures in Mav’s office, but he’s not been around the club these last two weeks.

Is this Edge?

He’s handsome. Striking even. However, there’s a hardness to him. Lining his forehead are three prominent wrinkles, and below those are furrowed brows shadowing his deep-set eyes. Where Dozer’s smile is natural and easy, the new guy’s is fixed on his face as if he’s not used to using the muscles it takes to do so.

He’s maybe two inches shorter than Dozer. And where Dozer fills out every inch of space in his T-shirt and jeans, and then some; this man’s clothing hangs off him. Even his cheeks appear gaunt.

His dark, chestnut hair is an inch long all over and lies every which way, and he has a mustache and goatee that appear more red than brown in the sunlight.

He concedes a hug to the people who approach him. But he studies them with a critical eye before embracing them. If he weren’t facing me, I would have missed how mid-hug, his smile turns into a grimace for a split second before he forces it back over his face, as if it never slipped in the first place.

I can’t help but think about what tonight would have been like if my plans for the party hadn’t changed. I would have had to sleep with this stranger who looks like he doesn’t trust a soul. I would have been his prize for the night. A vessel for him to find whatever kind of release he needed.

Whenever Warner took me against my will, it made me feel so dead and dirty that I sought to escape. It always stripped me bare. This would have been the same.

I’m taken off guard when the backdoor opens. As zoned out as I was, I didn’t see Dozer make his way to the back of the clubhouse. When I look up and see him dominating the doorway my unease comes back full force.

He’s surprised but also happy to see me. “Hey. They said you were here, but I wasn’t sure where,” he says.

My eyes swing from him to the window and my gaze locks with Bethany’s. She’s looking at what can only be Dozer’s back. Sadness flashes over her features. A second passes before her eyes meet mine. She waves at me, hikes her thumb over her shoulder and though I can read her lips from here, I understand what she says. “I’m leaving.”