Chapter 2 Cash
Chapter two
Cash
Igave Cece a day. My calls went unanswered, which isn’t necessarily out of the ordinary with her.
Throughout the last two years, our friendship has had many ups and downs.
Cece has been through a lot in her short life, probably more than any of us know.
You don’t grow up the way she did without coming out with some oversized baggage.
When she first came to the clubhouse, she would hide in the kitchen, and I was more than willing to hide in there with her.
The responsibility and crushing guilt I felt about Cooper’s death were fresh.
I thought I was giving him a family, and instead, I gave him a death sentence.
It’s not as though this life doesn’t come with the possibility of an early expiration date, but he was on a simple protection assignment.
Not a single one of us thought the assholes from the cult where Cece and Lucy grew up would be bold enough to run them off the road and kill Cooper to get to Lucy.
But we should have. And not having the foresight to assess every possible outcome will haunt me until my dying day. Whenever the fuck that might be.
I needed a minute to wrap my head around losing a kid who was like a little brother to me, and I couldn’t do it around the noise of the clubhouse.
Instead, I’d take my coffee in the kitchen and sit in silence with Cece.
We were two people who needed a little time to sort through the shit we went through. A little time to catch our breath.
Honestly, I thought she would run screaming from the kitchen the first time I met her in there.
I knew she was a child bride and that her “husband” was an abusive piece of shit—as was her father.
I knew the way the men at the compound treated women from Lucy’s stories, but Cece’s story had yet to be told, and I was perfectly happy letting her tell it in her time, or not at all if that’s what she wanted.
But she never acted scared of me or put off by my presence, so I simply kept showing up, drinking coffee, reading the morning paper and eating whatever she set down in front of me.
There were no ulterior motives behind the mornings we spent in the kitchen to get her to open up and give the MC an account of what she went through.
The club didn’t need to know the details of that shit.
We saw and heard enough from the night we went in and took out every one of those assholes.
Cece and I needed a quiet place, but I don’t think either of us wanted to be alone. We found that in each other.
It’s been a few weeks since our morning—and sometimes afternoon—routine started, and Cece isn’t here. When I asked Jude where she was, he said she was still in bed. She hadn’t slept the night before, so Lucy figured she was getting her rest.
I’m familiar with not sleeping when the shit on your mind is too much.
Instead of letting it go, something is telling me to go check on her.
I’m not sure how she’s going to react to a man showing up at her home, but I figure since we’ve spent every morning in the same space, I’ll be able to sense if something is off.
So I hop on my bike and head to her house. When she answers the door, the dark circles under her eyes clued me in that Jude was right, and she hasn’t slept.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there this morning. I just…” Her words trail off as she stands in the doorway and blows out a deep breath.
“Not sleeping?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Then I was getting everything together this morning and realized I didn’t have the preserves to make the turnovers I planned on, and I didn’t want to inconvenience Jude or Lu by asking them to take me to the store.
Then I remembered the first time I ran out of eggs when I lived with Otto, and the punishment I received for not being prepared, and well… ”
“I get it. Sent you on a spiral?” I ask.
“That’s a good way to describe it. I have coffee ready if you’d like some. I was never allowed to drink it on the compound. Otto said it was interfering with my ability to conceive, so he banned me from it.”
That’s a gut punch if I’ve ever felt one. And the first time she’s outright given me a glimpse into her life in the cult.
“Sure, I’d love a cup,” I reply, and she lets me into her house.
No one else is home. It’s the first time Cece and I have been truly alone without anyone just on the other side of a door. It feels significant to me—that she trusts me enough to be here without Jude or Lucy.
“I really must get to the store soon so I can make you some cherry turnovers. I think I finally figured out just the right amount of filling-to-pastry ratio needed,” she says while pouring me a cup of coffee before setting it on the marble kitchen island separating us.
I smile in thanks and hold up my cup, taking a sip. “I like anything you make. All the brothers do.”
Her shy grin and the way she dips her head so that her hair covers the sides of her face—and probably her blushing cheeks—don’t go unnoticed. Nothing with Cece ever does. She doesn’t seem to know what to do with compliments. I doubt she’s ever heard them.
“I can take you to the store,” I offer. “I’m on my bike, though, if you’re up for a ride.”
She cocks her head to the side and looks out the window to where my bike is sitting in front of her house.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” she says.
A light chuckle escapes me. “I figured, sweetheart.”
This is the first time I’ve addressed her as anything other than Cece. Her surprised expression has me regretting that word slip. It was probably too forward for her, but feels natural slipping off my tongue.
“I like when you laugh,” she says, then quickly turns around to busy herself by putting away the few dishes in the drying rack.
I don’t think she meant to say that either.
“Well, if you’re up for it, I’m sure Lucy wouldn’t mind if you borrowed her helmet. Safety first and all that.”
She nods, then she turns toward me with a wide smile on her face. It’s the first genuine one I’ve seen, other than when I practically lick the plate when she shares her baking with me.
“You know what? I think I’d like that,” she replies in a decisive tone.
The corner of my mouth tips up in a grin. “I’ll finish my coffee, you go get ready, then we’ll head out. Sound good?”
Cece nods and leaves the kitchen. I grab my phone from my pocket and shoot a text off to Jude.
Me: Taking Cece to the store.
Jude: And you’re telling me this why?
Me: Because she lives with you and barely leaves the house without you or Lucy. Thought you’d want to know where she was in case either of you came home and she wasn’t here.
Jude: Got it. That sounds reasonable. I’ll let Lucy know.
Jude hasn’t exactly known what to do with Cece living with him and his woman.
It’s not as though she’s a child, but it’s also not as though she’s really capable of taking care of herself at this point, even though she’s twenty-four.
She still needs guidance. Still has a lot of growing up to do, shit to sort through, and I don’t think Jude knows how to handle that or what his role is in it.
Cece emerges from the hallway that leads to her room in a pair of snug jeans and a long-sleeve T-shirt. Her long blonde hair hangs loose around her shoulders, and there’s a glint of excitement in her light-blue eyes.
“You’re going to want to braid your hair back, otherwise the wind is going to whip it all over the place,” I tell her.
She nods and pulls the strands back as her fingers begin braiding the light locks.
Her movements cause her shirt to tighten around her breasts, and I feel like the biggest asshole on the planet for noticing.
This is a girl who came to live here because we rescued her from an abusive cult, and here I am, ogling her tits.
I clear my throat and turn toward the garage door. “I’m guessing her helmet’s in here?” I ask, pointing to the door.
“I think so. Let me grab a jacket and I’ll be ready.”
When I turn back around, she’s finished with the long braid that sways as she spins toward the closet.
“I’ll grab it and meet you outside,” I say, setting aside my wandering thoughts of Cece being any more than a friend.
That was the first time Cece was on my bike, but it wasn’t the last. The first trip was to the grocery store and back, then when she needed something, we started taking the long way around town.
It didn’t take long before she would text me and ask to go for a ride for no reason other than she wanted to.
Cece was never stiff behind me. From that first trip to the store, she leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my middle as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
In fact, Cece has never been uncomfortable around me, not like she was around everyone else.
On the rare occasions that she was in a crowd of my brothers and whoever else was in the clubhouse at the time in those first few months, I would notice tension radiating from her.
Her gaze would find me, and I’d offer her a reassuring smile.
That seemed to relax her a touch, and she would resume whatever conversation she was in.
There were times when I could tell a smile wasn’t going to cut it.
I’d nod toward the kitchen or the back door, and she’d head that way with me following behind her.
Sometimes it was only for a quick breath.
Other times, we would take a long walk around the property, sometimes talking, sometimes not.
It always depended on what her mood was, and I was happy she allowed someone to at least be with her. That she allowed me to be there.