Chapter Fourteen
I WAS SINGING under my breath as I cut the engine and swung off my bike, the quiet settling in around me in that way it only did out here, like the world stopped a few feet past the treeline.
I headed toward the clubhouse, boots hitting the steps, then slowed halfway up and veered off toward the back instead, not even sure why, just knowing I didn’t want to walk into the noise yet, didn’t want to lose the rare, content feeling sitting in my chest like something I didn’t quite trust but didn’t want to disturb either.
“I can’t do this!”
I froze. It was Brenda. Her voice carried from the side of the building, loud enough to cut through everything.
“You can’t keep seein’ him!”
Shit. Horse.
I dragged a hand down my face and leaned back against the wood, staring up into the dark like maybe if I stayed still enough, I wouldn’t be part of it. Should’ve just gone in the damn front.
“You don’t get to dictate my life,” Brenda shot back, her voice shaking in a way that didn’t sit right. “You made it real clear I was never gonna be more than a warm body now and again.”
“That’s not fuckin’ true,” Horse snapped, fast and angry, like he needed it to be.
“Isn’t it?” she said, quieter this time, and I almost missed it.
“I deserve more than that. I deserve to be loved, and Tom—” she let out a breath, shaky but stubborn, “—Tom makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.
You can’t ever love me like that. Not while you’re still livin’ with a ghost.”
That one hit. Even from where I stood, I felt it land.
There was a beat, heavy, thick, the kind that meant something broke and nobody was saying it out loud, then footsteps, quick and uneven, and I pushed off the wall just as Brenda came around the corner, her head down, wiping at her face like she didn’t want anyone to see.
She didn’t even notice me, but I didn’t get two steps before I slammed straight into something solid. Horse.
“What the fuck are you doin’ out here?” he growled, voice frustrated and dangerous, his face set hard enough I didn’t doubt for a second he’d tear into the first person who gave him a reason.
“I was heading in through the back,” I said, keeping my tone easy, careful. “Trying to avoid the noise.”
He stared at me like he didn’t believe a damn word, jaw tight, eyes still burning from whatever just went down. “Well then get movin’,” he snapped, brushing past me hard enough to make the point, disappearing into the dark without another word.
I watched him go, shaking my head. Guy was his own worst enemy.
Twenty years his wife had been gone, and he was still standing in the same place like time owed him something. Meanwhile Brenda stuck it out longer than most would’ve, putting up with his moods, his distance, all that shit, and now that she was finally trying to move on, he couldn’t handle it.
Didn’t make sense. Then again… what did I know.
“What the hell…” I muttered under my breath when movement caught my eye, a shadow slipping out from the same stretch of darkness Brenda had come from.
“Tillie?”
“Oh—hey, Gatsby,” she said, a little too quick, a little too breathless.
I straightened, taking a better look at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding fast. “Just… went for a walk.”
Didn’t look like a walk.
She glanced over her shoulder like she was checking something—or someone—then forced a small smile. “I’ll see you later.”
And just like that, she was gone.
I stood there a second longer than I meant to before another shape moved out of the dark.
“You’re out late,” I said when Devil stepped into the low light, already knowing this night wasn’t done with me yet.
His eyes cut toward me, unreadable as always.
Before I could stop myself, I added, “You with Tillie?”
The look he gave me could’ve peeled paint. “Why the fuck would you think that?” he snapped. “Someone runnin’ their mouth?”
“She just came from the same direction as you,” I said, shrugging a shoulder.
He let out a short breath, more annoyed than anything. “She was probably entertaining one of the guys back there. I was at the house.”
Of course he was. That place might as well have been a shrine.
“I was gonna talk to you tomorrow,” he went on, already shifting gears, “but since you’re here, I want cameras put up around the house. Front, back, wherever you think they need to be. Someone’s been lurking.”
That got my attention. “You see anything?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he said. “But I feel it.”
Yeah. That was enough for me. “Could be someone thinks the place is empty,” I said. “Trying to get lucky.”
“Not gonna happen,” he muttered.
No, it wasn’t. Not if I had anything to do with it. “When you need it done?” I asked.
“Soon as possible.”
“I’ll grab what I need first thing in the morning,” I said. “Have it up by tomorrow night.”
He nodded once, already reaching into his pocket, pulling out a key and pressing it into my hand. “Call me when it’s done.”
“Yeah. I will.”
He didn’t say anything else, just turned and walked off, disappearing back into the same dark everything else seemed to crawl out of tonight.
I stood there for a second, letting out a slow breath.
So much for keeping things simple. Between Horse losing his shit, Tillie acting off, and Devil thinking someone was creeping around his place, the air felt heavier than it had a few minutes ago, like something was shifting under the surface and nobody had caught up yet.
I headed inside after that, not running into anyone else for once, and by the time I hit my room, I was more than ready to shut the world out. There was something about your own space, your shit, your walls, that settled things, even when everything else felt like it was starting to tilt.
I dropped onto the bed and reached underneath, pulling out the album I kept hidden there, flipping it open without thinking too hard about why.
First page. My mom. Standing at the stove, wooden spoon in hand, caught mid-motion like she might turn around any second if I stared long enough. It was the only picture I had of her. Only thing she left behind when she walked out like none of it mattered.
I stared at it longer than she deserved before turning the page.
“Timothy Evan Calloway.” Black and white newspaper article.
An accident, and it didn’t say what really happened.
Didn’t say he was drunk out of his mind, passed out behind the wheel, took himself, and some woman he picked up that night, straight into the ground.
Didn’t say any of the shit that actually mattered. I flipped past it. Didn’t need to sit in that tonight.
The rest of the album was different—better. Old movies, screenshots, shit I’d printed out over the years, pieces of something that had kept me in line when everything else went sideways.
And now… Evie.
A few things already tucked in my head waiting for a place to land. Yeah, it was corny as hell, but I didn’t give a shit.
I closed the album and slid it back under the bed, then pushed up and headed for the bathroom, already feeling the weight of tomorrow settling in. Cameras. Work. Club shit.
But under all of that—Evie.
And I wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of seeing her again.
***
SIX IN THE morning and I already had my ass in the kitchen, the place half-awake in that quiet way it got before the day really kicked in, coffee brewing, skillet popping, the quiet noise of life starting up piece by piece.
“You’re up early,” Josie called over his shoulder, working the stove like it was part of him. “You and Gearhead got a hot date planned or somethin’?”
That’s when I spotted him.
Gearhead was tucked off in the corner, hunched over a cup of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded.
I grabbed a mug, poured myself some, and slid into the chair across from him.
“The hell are you doing up this early?” I asked, taking a sip.
He yawned, dragging a hand over his face. “Gotta head into Savannah. Junkyard down there’s got the only parts I need for that ’69 Chevy I’ve been workin’ on.” He tipped his cup back, then glanced at me. “What about you? You don’t strike me as the sunrise type unless there’s a reason.”
“Devil’s got a job for me,” I said. “Wants a security system put in at his place.”
Gearhead snorted, shaking his head. “That house sits empty. Been that way long enough, someone’s bound to try their luck eventually.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He thinks someone already is.”
That seemed to wake him up a little more, but he didn’t press it. Just took another drink, then leaned back in his chair, studying me for a second longer than usual.
“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” he said. “Not since Evie.”
I smirked, not even bothering to hide it. “And if I play my cards right, you’ll see even less.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah? That how it works now?”
“Man’s allowed to want more than this,” I said, gesturing around the kitchen, the clubhouse, all of it. “Love you assholes, but I’m not trying to spend the rest of my life surrounded by bad decisions and worse habits. I want a woman. A real one. A family.”
“Not every guy needs that,” he muttered, dragging his fingers through his hair like the conversation was already getting under his skin. “Some of us do just fine without it.”
“Yeah,” I shot back, leaning forward a little, “some of you just hide behind it. Easier to keep things shallow than risk giving a shit about someone.”
He rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”
“I’m just saying,” I went on, not letting it go, “I’ve got zero interest in livin’ like a manwhore till I’m fifty and wondering where the hell my life went.”
“That’s rich,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve been waitin’ your whole life to say that, haven’t you?”
“Damn straight!”
“You’re basically a black-and-white ’50s TV episode that learned how to walk.”
“And you’re straight outta a ’90s porn collection,” I shot back, pointing at him. “Difference is, I’m planning on growing out of my phase before I end up old and alone.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he said, but there was something thinner under the humor now, something that didn’t quite land right.
Before I could push it, laughter cut through the kitchen as Chain and Lark walked in, dragging a different kind of energy with them, lighter, easier, like the world hadn’t gotten complicated yet.
Chain headed straight for us. “Either of you got a spare helmet?”
“For who?” I asked.
“Briar,” he said. “Ash is takin’ out his new ride, and Briar’s ridin’ with him.”
Gearhead muttered, “Fuckin’ hell,” under his breath, pushing back from the table like he needed out of the conversation more than he needed coffee.
“I don’t got one,” he said quickly, already on his feet. “And I gotta get goin’.”
He didn’t wait for a response, just moved past Chain and headed straight for the door.
I watched him go, frowning slightly.
That was… off.
“Josie’s got one,” Lark called from the counter, stepping in before Chain could turn and chase Gearhead down with questions. “Come on, let’s grab it and hit the road.”
Chain hesitated for half a second, like he was thinking the same thing I was, then nodded.
“I’ll catch you later,” he said, falling into step beside Lark as they headed out.
The kitchen settled again after they left, quieter this time.
I finished my coffee, then whatever Josie had thrown on a plate, pancakes, greasy and perfect, and pulled my phone out, shooting Evie a quick text to lock in tonight.
Just the thought of seeing her again was enough to shift everything back into place.
After that, I dumped my plate, grabbed my keys, and headed out.
Got work to knock out so I can get to Evie.