Chapter Eight
“COME IN,” BETH said to the soft knock on her door. It’d be her mother. They were the only two at home. Copper had club business, and her siblings in their late teens were out and about living their lives.
Cassie, who’d become her surrogate grandmother after moving in when Beth was a child, went on a six-month cruise with a band of wild senior ladies. Beth wouldn’t see her for quite a while.
Sure enough, Shell opened the door and stepped into the room Beth had slept in since she was a child. It no longer had posters of her favorite shows or fairy lights, but Shell insisted it would always be Beth’s room, no matter where she lived or how long she stayed away.
“Hey, honey, what are you up to?”
“Just reading.” Beth set her e-reader on the armrest of the plush recliner her parents bought sometime after she moved out. “I like this chair here. It’s a good addition.”
“Thanks.” Shell must have recently finished a workout. She wore running shorts and a black sports bra with her blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. “So…” she said as she walked into the room in her socked feet and sat on the side of the queen-size bed near Beth.
This chat had been brewing. Frankly, Beth was impressed by how long her mother held out before coming in for the what-the-fuck conversation.
Sighing, Beth righted the recliner and then curled her legs beneath her.
“I know.” She glanced out the large window into her parents’ vast backyard before focusing back on her mom.
“I’ve been home for five days, and I’ve been a waste of space the entire time.
I need to get out of the house and touch grass. I need to see people.”
I need to stop hiding away and licking my wounds.
Shell frowned. “Okay, that’s not at all what I was going to say.”
“Maybe not, but I’m sure you’re thinking it.”
“Wrong again.” Shell had concern written all over her face.
“I’m worried about you. That’s all. I can tell you’re processing something big, something upsetting, and that’s fine.
Take all the time you need to get your head on straight and be in a good place.
You need time to process and maybe heal, which means something happened that you need to heal from.
Something I don’t know anything about. And that’s fine.
You are an adult who no longer needs to tell your mommy your problems, but I want to make sure you know that you can.
You can always talk to me, no matter how old you get.
You don’t have to go through anything alone. ”
“Mom…” She blinked away moisture. How did she get so lucky to have the most incredible mother?
Shell stood. “That’s all. I’m not here to pressure you into talking if you’re not ready.” She leaned down and kissed the top of Beth’s head. “Just know I’m here if you need me. And I’m so happy you’re home.”
Her throat thickened, making it hard to swallow. “Thanks, Mom,” she croaked. “I think I’m going to take a walk into town to try to drag myself out of this funk.”
“Really?” Shell’s forehead wrinkled. “It’s about two and a half miles to town.”
Perfect. A five-mile walk should help clear her head. It’s exactly what she needed. Fresh mountain air, sunshine, and movement were better than growing stagnant in her parents’ house.
After changing from sweatpants to shorts and an athletic tank, since Copper kept the house like a damn ice box, she headed out on her way.
Once she got to town, she’d grab a bottle of water for the walk back.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew.
Some friends from her childhood still lived in the area.
They’d probably be pissed once they found out she came home and didn’t make contact, but the truth was too awkward to share, and she didn’t feel like lying to everyone.
Hey, Beth, it’s so great to have you back. What made you decide to come home?
Oh, well, my abusive boyfriend was choking the life out of me, so I figured it was finally time to end things.
Not exactly how she wanted to jump back into the social scene around town, being the daughter of an outlaw biker meant she’d spent plenty of time as gossip in her younger years, but those were awed whispers and wild speculation about what went on in the club.
This would be pity and cattiness disguised as sympathy.
No, thank you.
This walk was supposed to pull her from a negative headspace, and so far, despite the gorgeous blue sky and warm sun on her skin, she remained maudlin.
“Enough,” she muttered aloud. “No more thinking about Jason and what happened in Texas for the rest of the walk.”
She inhaled as deeply as possible, held it for a few seconds, and then let it out slowly.
Something about the mountain air hit different.
It had a freshness she’d missed living in Texas.
Slowly but surely, the tightness in her neck and shoulders began to unwind.
Tension bled from the muscles as the sun warmed her skin, and her mind began to wander.
She’d need to get a job soon. Over the past few years, she’d fallen in love with her career at the pet grooming salon.
Working with animals made her endlessly happy.
One of her goals was to open her own salon one day.
Saint mentioned they didn’t have a good grooming salon in town.
Apparently, Screw constantly complained about having to bring his dogs over forty minutes away for a quality groom.
And now she was thinking about Saint.
It irked her how he’d skipped out on the barbecue, leaving without so much as a see-ya-later. It also irked her how she hadn’t heard a peep from him in the five days since she’d come home. Most of all, it irked her that it irked her.
“God, you’re ridiculous.”
Still, was what Gator told her true? Did he get all hot and bothered with her riding behind him?
Did it get him so worked up that he passed on the barbecue to sleep with some random?
And if so, why did it bother her? Saint was nothing more than a friend to her.
Instead of being annoyed, she should be happy for him.
The man gave up days of his life to drive halfway across the country and rescue her ass.
The least he deserved out of the deal was a good orgasm.
Because you want to be the one to give it to him.
“No. No, I do not. And now I’m full-on talking to myself like a crazy person. Fantastic.”
The rumble of a Harley, a sound she’d know anywhere, came from far up the road.
Shielding her eyes, Beth squinted to bring the rider into view.
He wore a cut, but his distance and helmet made it impossible to distinguish which of the Handlers rode toward her.
Not that it mattered, she’d be happy to run into anyone in the MC.
As the rider drew closer, she stopped walking and lifted a hand to wave hello. He slowed and, within seconds, came into full view.
“Oh shit,” she muttered as they pulled off to the side of the road, then came to a complete stop next to her.
He was not wearing a Handlers’ cut. She frowned.
He wasn’t wearing a cut she recognized. Devil’s Dominion?
What the hell? Did he not realize they were in HHMC territory?
“I’m so sorry,” she said as the rider lifted his visor. “I thought you were someone else.”
His dark, unfriendly eyes made a slow journey from her sneaker-covered feet to her face, pausing along the way to give her chest a longer leer. Her stomach turned, and she took a step back on instinct.
“Sorry again,” she mumbled, then began walking.
“Wait.” His arm shot out, and he grabbed her wrist. “Who’d you think I was?”
“Hey!” She tried wrenching out of his hold, but his grip was unbreakable. “Let me go.”
All she could see were dark eyes beneath even darker eyebrows and tanned skin, framed by the full-face helmet. Amusement sparkled in his gaze.
“I said, let me go.” Her heart kicked into overdrive, sending anxious chemicals zooming through her bloodstream as she tried to tug her arm free.
“One of those outlaw bikers?” he asked as he yanked her closer. “Hell’s Handlers?”
Shit. She glanced around, but no one else was on the quiet mountain road, which was why she had taken this route in the first place, something she now regretted.
“What? No.” She shook her head, keeping a steady pull on her wrist. I thought you were… a friend. Just a guy who rides a motorcycle.”
“Hmm.” He tilted his head, studying her, and though she couldn’t see his mouth, it was easy to imagine a sinister smirk curving his lips. “You look familiar.”
“No. We’ve never met.” She’d have remembered those soulless eyes.
“Reddish hair,” he said as he reached for her ponytail with the hand not holding her captive.
“Don’t.” She smacked his hand away, only thinking it might be a bad idea afterward, but he laughed as though finding her immensely amusing.
“Green eyes.”
He yanked her so close she had to arch back to keep from smacking her head into his helmet as he inhaled. “Leather and motor oil. Smells like MC pussy to me.”
“Let. Me. Go,” she said through clenched teeth. She smelled like Bahama Breeze body wash, not the goddamn clubhouse.
The guy laughed. “Tell your father Demo says hello. And maybe he should be a little more accommodating to the newcomers in town. You know, roll out the red carpet a bit more. Everyone can use more friends, right? Better than having… enemies.”
Fear fled, morphing into white-hot rage.
How dare he threaten her family? The anger felt good, powerful after being on the wrong end of a man’s anger for too long.
In Texas, she’d been alone, no backup, no one to turn to when things with Jason went sour.
But here in Tennessee, if someone messed with her, they paid a steep price.
“I’m not telling anyone shit so that you can fuck right off. ”