Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stone
The biker bar I sit in makes me as relaxed as possible, given I’m probably being hunted. It’s a tough concept to imagine, but I blend in well here. My body littered with tattoos and scars means I look much more MC than Mafia and being a nightly fixture at the bar helps with the illusion. So much so, the club hang-arounds have taken notice of me, which isn’t a good thing, considering the MC’s members’ eyes continue to land on me as if I’m a threat to their nightly fuck routines.
“They want to know if you’re bringing trouble with you.” The blonde server places another beer down where I sit at the lone table. “That or wanting to steal their girls.”
A scoff erupts from me. As fucking if. “I’m not.” I shake my head.
“That’s what I told them.” She tilts her head toward a group of the men, and I quickly avert my gaze when their eyes narrow in on me. Crossing her arms over her chest, the movement forces her tits higher. “Are you a nomad?”
I stare straight ahead toward the wall. It doesn’t feel right looking at another woman when I already have one of my own. “No what?”
“Nomad.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Doesn’t matter.”
Taking a swig of the warm beer, I grimace, causing her to laugh. “You’re definitely different.”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
“So what’s your story?”
Jesus. I just want a drink in peace.
“They’re asking.” She throws her thumb over her shoulder, and my gaze follows before landing straight back at the wall in front of me.
“Just trying to figure shit out,” I mumble, uncomfortable with her prying.
“Like what?”
I scrub a hand over my head, feeling more and more anxious about her questioning, despite knowing it’s more than likely harmless.
“My past.”
She shifts on those ridiculously high heels, and I wonder how she doesn’t topple over. “Oh.” Then she clears her throat. “Well, if I were you, I’d go back to the start.” I want to roll my eyes and tell her I don’t know where the start is, but I take another drink instead. “Let your heart be your guide.” Her words are familiar, and a pang hits me square in the chest.
I tilt my head up to face her. “What did you say?”
“Let your heart be your guide. It’s on there.” She points to the keyring housing my car keys. “I agree. Sometimes our hearts can guide us home, ya know?” I blink at her, and the different yet familiar words ring out in my mind.
Pushing back in my chair, I stand, throw some bills on the table, and grab my car keys, then head toward the door.
“Hey!”
I glance over my shoulder.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she shouts as she collects the tip I threw down. After she stuffs it in her bra, I gift her a nod and push through the door into the night with new determination.
I’m following my heart.