I nodded, I did know that. Being with the club had its perks, you got the best service, the best seats, the best of anything because they paid for it.

“You gonna tell me what actually happened?” he asked quietly, aware of the people around us eying him. I wasn’t sure if they were intimidated because of the MC cut or just curious. The boys were watched and judged wherever they went. It was normal.

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready,” I said simply, hoping it would pacify him for now.

He scoffed. “You called me, Chelsea. Asking me to keep an eye on her. To do that, I need to know what’s going on.”

I sighed. “Look, she’s not in any immediate danger if that’s what you’re worried about. I know, I called you, I just … I care about Rose. I want to protect her, but she’s just not ready for that yet.”

I saw his jaw clench, but he continued to stare straight ahead. “So someone did this.”

“Blizzard.”

His head snapped to me. “Someone fucking hurt her,” he growled, now obviously not caring whether people heard or stared. Which they did. My eyes traveled down to his hands and I watched them clench and flex in agitation and anger.

“Don’t pull this shit on her,” I snapped, attempting to keep my voice low. “You go all caveman on her and she will run. She will run straight back to them.”

He snarled, his lip turning up. He knew I was right.

I placed my hand over his. “She needs to trust us and know that we will be there for her. But right now, she’s just scared. And scared people do crazy things.” My words didn’t please him, but I knew that for now he understood.

“I won’t let them hurt her,” he whispered, his voice gravelly.

I nodded. “Neither will I.”

We sat in silence for a long time. I pondered about Blizzard and Rose. What the connection was that they had? Why he wanted so much to keep her from harm? Was it just because he felt something for her? Or was there more? I’d always known Blizzard to be a ladies, man. He never talked about getting an Old Lady, but then again none of the brothers do. From what I gathered they were all content being manwhores until the right one came along and then it was like a slap in the face.

Maybe Rose was Blizzard’s slap in the face?

Rose had retreated into herself over the last couple of weeks. She was no longer the flirty, cheeky girl I once met. Sure, I got glimpses of the other her occasionally, but I was really starting to worry. I thought maybe by asking Blizzard to watch out for her that it would bring them closer. Maybe they would find something that they were missing within each other. Maybe he would make her happy again and she would see that she didn't deserve to be treated like shit, that she didn't have to put up with it because she had other people that cared about her too. Us.

Blizzard stood to his feet before I knew what was happening. I looked up and found Rose standing next to the front desk talking to the doctor. Blizzard was by her side in a flash. The doctor eyed him warily but continued to speak to Rose as if he wasn’t there. I didn’t want to crowd her. Blizzard was doing a good enough job of that for the both of us.

When the doctor walked away, I moved closer. Rose gave me a soft smile. “Not as bad as we thought. Just second degree.” Her hand wasn’t bandaged or anything. “Doctor said painkillers and some antibiotic cream should do the trick.”

I felt a little better and let my body sag. “That’s good. I’m so glad.”

“Can we go home now?” she asked, her eyes pleading with me.

“Yeah, let's—”

“I need to talk to her first,” Blizzard said quickly, taking hold of her elbow and leading her away.

“Um...okay. I’ll just wait in the car.” I frowned. I hoped he wouldn’t mention anything to her about what we’d discussed. Rose was all I had at the moment. With Harmony so far away Rose was my rock, and I really didn’t want to do or say anything that would hurt her.

I could see their outlines as they stood just to the side of the emergency department doors. Blizzard reached out to touch her and she shifted back. I could even see his body go rigid as she did. It was only a couple of minutes before they were walking toward me, Rose looking sad and still slightly nervous in Blizzard’s presence and Blizzard looking frustrated.

Maybe I had it wrong.

Maybe she wasn’t his slap in the face.

Maybe she was more like a kick in the balls.

The last week or so since Chelsea left had been both quiet and fucking crazy all at once. We weren’t any closer to figuring out what the fuck was going on with the DePalma’s. Leo had been keeping a watch on Anthony with one of our boys sitting outside his hotel at all times of the day and night. Hoping, that if they try something else, that we won’t be caught with our pants down like we were with the car bomb that was planted under Chelsea’s car.

Kev had taken a look at what was left of the device, and had come to the conclusion that it was set to a timer. So the mystery remained, was Chelsea the target or was the bomb meant to go off and hit the club and hopefully some of its members.

Luckily for us, Chelsea parks her car under the shade of a tree which borders the fence line of the clubhouse, and not near the building itself like we do with our bikes. So there was very little damage done to anything but her car.

Leo tells me that Anthony has been leaving the hotel and meeting up with some men for casual lunches or drinks. From what we can gather they’re wealthy businessmen but nothing so far that seems like a threat to the club. It’s all very strange and ultimately mindfucking. But for now, the heat from the fire wasn’t burning too hot, and I was hoping it would stay that way.

I sat on a picnic table outside, watching Harlyn as she raced around the playground. The kid never seemed to get tired. When Sugar wasn’t forcing her to sit down and do her school work, she was constantly on the playground. It was like every day she looked at it like it was a new toy to play with, but it was just the same stuff she’d spent hours playing on the day before. I guess that was a child’s imagination for you. You could dream up anything and turn it into something amazing.

I heard the front gates creak open. I climbed off the table and walked over to the large fence that we’d built to protect the view of our outdoor area from the road. The reason for it being there always caused me to feel a rush of emotion. My mother had been shot sitting right where I was just sitting during a drive by. Some small time punks who thought they were the shit, wanting to brag about shooting up the local MC’s clubhouse.

My mom was killed that day and I should have been sitting there next to her, maybe even in front of her so that the bullets would have hit my body instead of hers. But at sixteen I was far more concerned about making it known that I wanted to prospect for the club. It would be two years until I would be allowed to even step up and plead my case, but I had watched these men my whole life. I knew this was where I wanted to be.

So instead of sitting outside with the women and children while the men held church, I was inside, sitting outside that room, waiting for them to come out. Offering to do jobs and wanting to spend time with them.

Thinking of myself rather than watching out for my mom.

I shook the thoughts from my head as I stepped into the space where the path ran down the side of the clubhouse from the front to the back. A dark blue Chevy truck pulled past the gates and into the lot, parking right by me. Connor climbed out of the driver’s seat and lifted his chin at me in greeting. His passenger door opened and closed, but I couldn’t tell who it was past the tinted windows. I heard another door bang shut before Lucy stepped around the massive vehicle carrying a small child on her hip.