Chapter 18
Baddy rode flanked between Hunter and Duke. The three of them cut through traffic with the efficiency of riding together for years. Going to the meeting spot to see if Sonny would show up had been a damn waste of time. Sonny hadn't shown. No message. No threat. No confrontation.
And that silence was worse than any ambush.
He wanted to know where the fuck the other Cusclan members were and what they planned. It was the only way he could guarantee Lydia's safety.
He rolled through the gate, engine rumbling to a stop. Baddy swung his leg off the Harley and pulled his helmet off, shaking out his hair.
Duke got off his bike and stretched his back. "So, what now?"
Baddy turned so Hunter could see his face clearly. Hunter watched his lips.
"We wait." Baddy shrugged. "Sonny's planning something. He wouldn't skip unless he had a reason. Cusclan isn't known to threaten and then back off."
Hunter nodded once. "Agreed."
Duke blew out a breath. "Hate waiting, considering we have a shipment going out next Friday and don't need the distraction."
"Yeah, I hear you, brother," Baddy muttered.
Inside the clubhouse, the clatter of dishes broke through the hum of conversations. The smell of Baker's cooking drifted from the kitchen, and the guys naturally gravitated that way.
Baker spotted them immediately. "You three want plates? Got roast, potatoes, cornbread—"
"Later." Baddy lifted a hand, cutting him off. "I need a shower. Then I gotta run an errand."
Baker frowned. "You skipping dinner?"
"Just hold me a plate, brother." Baddy turned away. "I'll eat later."
He didn't want dinner.
He wanted Lydia.
After Kodiak dropped the bomb on him yesterday, he'd barely had time to breathe, let alone stop by the diner before her shift started today.
He needed to see her. Needed to make sure she was okay. Needed to reassure her that everything would be fine.
He grabbed the first vacant room and dropped his duffel before stripping off his clothes. Using the attached bath, he knocked the road dust off. The hot water barely eased the tension.
Sonny not showing meant trouble. He couldn't let himself relax.
The road trip gave him time to think. Before he could do anything, he needed to know why Sonny brought Lydia with him to the meeting between the two clubs. Cusclan had to have a reason to compromise themselves by having a woman, an unpatched member, witness their illegal business.
He finished his shower, patted his hair dry with a towel, and changed into clean clothes from his bag. Once done, he stepped out, returned to the main room, and paused on his way to the door because Hannah strode inside, followed by Madison. Between the two girls was Lydia.
Her eyes found him instantly, wide and worried and relieved all at once.
He hadn't expected her to come to the clubhouse, especially after he'd told her to stay inside until the danger from Cusclan was over.
She hurried toward him, stopping right in front of him, searching his face as if she needed proof he was here. "I didn't leave the diner alone. I came with them. I couldn't wait anymore. Please, don't be mad."
"I'm not mad," he said.
"What happened with Sonny?" she asked, breathless.
Baddy's chest tightened. She'd been scared, waiting for him to return.
He took in her wide eyes and her rapid breathing like she'd run the whole way here.
"Have you eaten today?" he asked.
She blinked, thrown off by the change of topic. Then she shook her head.
That settled it. He needed to calm her down and feed her, and then they'd deal with everything else.
"Come on." He gathered up her hand and guided her toward the kitchen.
Baker was making plates for the guys, humming off-key to Smoke on the Water, an old rock song. When he spotted Baddy and Lydia, he raised a brow.
He held up two fingers. "She hasn't eaten."
Baker snorted. "Girl works too hard and worries too much. You—" he pointed a spatula at Baddy, "—look like you're about to do something stupid. Sit. Eat. People think clearer on a full stomach."
Baker slid two heavy plates across the counter. Roast, potatoes, corn. It was enough to feed a small army.
"Thanks, brother," he mumbled.
"And don't go fightin' on an empty stomach," said Baker. "That's how men end up dead, and women end up mad."
Lydia gave a tiny, shaky laugh. Baddy almost smiled. Baker was well-known for his off-the-wall advice, even when he wasn't asked for his opinion.
They carried their plates out to the main room, but every table was full. The guys were hanging around, eating, drinking, playing cards, and arguing over pool shots.
Baddy jerked his chin toward the door. "Outside."
Lydia followed without question.
The sky had darkened since he returned, and the cool night air gave him his second wind. The lights from the garage behind the clubhouse lit up the picnic table area. He led her toward the bench.
Before Baddy could sit down, Alanis came running over, wagging her tail as if it had a mind of its own.
The dog sniffed Baddy's leg. He set down his plate.
"Hey, girl," he muttered, giving Alanis a quick scratch behind the ears.
The dog huffed happily and wandered off.
Lydia watched the exchange with a soft look he didn't have time to unpack. He straddled the bench and remained facing her.
He dug into his food. Once he'd satisfied his hunger, he said, "Sonny didn't show."
She let out a breath. Obviously, the news brought her relief. "That's good, right?"
"No." He shook his head. "It's far from over. For some reason, Cusclan wants you back, despite selling you to me. Not showing up is their way of fucking with my head. They won't give up."
Her brows pulled together. "I don't understand why."
"That's what I plan on finding out."
"There's nothing to find out," she insisted. "There's nothing about me that would make Sonny want me. Despite the way he acts toward me, he doesn't own me. He swindled you out of money."
He set his fork down, studying her. "Why were you even at the meeting between the clubs?"
She froze, putting her fork down. "I don't know what you mean."
"You were there," he said, voice low. "On the back of Sonny's bike. The only woman attending the meeting."
She scooted back on the bench as if he'd shoved her. "Do you think I'm mixed in with them?"
He had no answer for her. After today, he didn't know if Cusclan was setting him up or if Lydia was playing a part in Sonny's game.
His hesitancy wrinkled her nose. A mix of betrayal, hurt, and fear.
"I don't know what to believe," he said finally.
She stood so quickly that her plate rattled. "I can't— I'm not—"
She shook her head, backing away from him.
Then she walked off, retracing her steps past the garage, around the corner, and disappeared from view. Baddy exhaled heavily. Every instinct in him screamed that he should let her go.