Chapter 2
TWO
Sunshine: Do you remember when we took the boys to the park? You wore that yellow dress and were barefoot, grounding with the earth. I joined you. Walking across the grass and eating ice cream. I remember the chocolate running down Fog’s face and all over his shirt as Tarek chased a butterfly by the playground. You were just as beautiful then as you are now. I miss walking in the grass with you.
Seated on a couch in the sisters’ underground apartment beneath the shops, my legs crisscross apple sauce, I eat my fifth piece of chocolaty goodness—courtesy of Sugar, my stunning, pale-skinned, white-haired business partner and favorite chocolatier.
Till, the greedy wench, steals a cappuccino truffle from my lap, and I snap my teeth at her like a rabid dog as she gleefully shoves the delicacy into her mouth with a smile.
“I hate you,” I seethe playfully, bumping my shoulder into hers.
Across from us, Sugar laughs.
Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, Till snorts and steals another truffle from the box on my lap. This time, I slap her hand away, and the ball falls between her legs onto the couch, where she scrambles to get it before it makes a mess.
“It serves you right for stealing my goodies,” I sniff, trying like hell not to laugh at her predicament, which forces her to stand to find the runaway chocolate.
Our nerdy computer genius, Cell, holding a steaming mug of something or other, exits the kitchen and drops beside Sugar on the couch, joining in on our little after-work powwow. To give me something to do besides wallow at home, I spent eight hours with Till at the bar today while Sugar prepped all the yummy chocolate for tomorrow. We were booming on both sides of Dark Delicacies tonight, which isn’t common for a Thursday evening.
I lift my chin at Cell. “You do the check-ins with the sisters this week?” I ask, referring to all the women out on assignments for intel.
“Yeppers, I got you covered, Boss Lady,” she replies.
“We have any issues?”
Blowing steam from her mug, she speaks over the edge. “Nope. Smooth sailin’.”
“Even the newbies?” I check, referring to Destiny and Beth, who now goes by Elle.
“Yep, even them. They’re working an easy job together, as you suggested. Angel is covering them, just in case. But he shouldn’t need to step in. ”
Good. Good.
I nod along, liking the sound of that. When I left for the job with Dark, I handed over most of the duties to Cell. She checks in and gives me updates. When necessary, she asks my advice so we know we’re placing the sisters in jobs that are safest for them. Her taking on the extra responsibility has been a long time coming.
With as many moving parts as we have here, each sister has her place and specific obligations. Cell thrives on assigning the sisters to their jobs and keeping tabs on the underground world where Remy and his crew are struggling, thanks to the yacht mysteriously sinking. Hmm. I wondered what happened there. It's such a shame all those men are dead. Poor, poor Remy. What will he ever do?
Finishing another chocolate, I clear my throat before addressing Cell again. “I have something I need you to look into. But we can talk about that later.” I wave off the importance so Till and Sugar don’t ask questions.
Cell nods and sips from her mug as we fall into easy, much-needed chatter about everything and nothing. It’s relaxing, getting away from the house and my phone for most of the day. I left it on my nightstand because I’m avoiding it. None of the men will quit blowing it up. I’d seriously consider changing my number if it wasn’t such a hassle. And before you come for me with something like I should block their numbers, it does no good. I tried that months ago. They texted from different ones until I gave up entirely and unblocked the originals, so I didn’t have an even fuller text thread than I already do. They’re persistent, I’ll give ‘em that .
Till snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Earth to Kali.”
Frowning, I blink and swat her hand away. “What?”
“You’re daydreaming.”
No. I’m not. I roll my eyes. “I’m thinking. There’s a difference.”
The nosy bartender makes a sound in the back of her throat that sounds a whole lot like she doesn’t believe me. “Where’s Sunshine? You seen him lately?” Till asks, probably wanting to spend some alone time with the hot biker.
Refusing to talk about this now or ever, I shrug up one shoulder and drop it casually. “I plead the fifth.”
“Seriously? Again?”
“Yes.”
“You ever gonna tell us what happened?”
“Nope.” That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. It’s the same thing I’ve repeated time and time again since I returned home.
“Kali.” Till’s sharp tone holds a warning that I give zero fucks about.
“I’m takin’ it to the grave.” I twist an imaginary lock on my lips and toss the invisible key over my shoulder.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Till pouts like a toddler, getting frustrated with me. It won’t be the first or the last time. “You should talk to someone. Nobody has seen Dark or Sunshine in months, meaning something happened while you were gone. You’re just not telling us.”
“No. I’m not. I’m living my life.” I’m doing the best I can, given what’s happened.
Till turns on the sofa to face me, a knee bent on a cushion, the other leg hanging over the edge. “You have bags under your eyes.” She stares at them as if it isn’t offensive to point out the obvious.
Scrunching my nose at her, I scoff. “Rude. Much. I’m over forty. What do you expect?” Playing into Till’s audacity, I slowly prod the bags under my eyes with my middle finger, one, then the next.
The pain in the ass snorts, not at all impressed by my friendly gesture. “You know that’s not what I mean. You’re sad and dating a tool you met at the bar.”
Here we go.
Again.
“Todd is not a tool.” He’s really not. I’ve met plenty of tools. I was married to one for two decades. Dark is the king of tools who also has a massive tool between his legs. Ew. I’m not thinking about it ever again. Not unless it involves him losing said appendage in a rare shark attack or some random woman he fucks tires of his shit and goes Lorena Bobbitt on his cheating ass.
Cell pulls a face like she also thinks Todd’s a tool and she’s only met him once.
“His name is Todd, Kali,” Till says, as if that explains everything. “ Todd ,” Till repeats for no reason but to annoy me. “The man doesn’t have a single tattoo on his body, and he drives a Toy-o-ta .” The exasperating woman emphasizes the manufacturer as if that somehow makes a lick of difference. She’s a lovable asshole, but I’m tired of where this conversation is leading already.
“What’s wrong with that?” I gesture for her to give me an actual reason. When she says nothing, I continue, “Toyotas are dependable, and tattoos aren’t for everybody.” I flip her off for putting her nose where it doesn’t belong. Then again, I’d put my nose in her business, too, if I were half as worried as they have been about me. But she’s going about this the wrong way—attacking a man who doesn’t deserve her disdain. Todd has been nothing but pleasant to everyone.
“Your men ride Harleys and wear leather cuts. They don’t have boring names like Todd. Your men have tattoos of a particular Goddess on their ribs.” Till waggles her dark, perfectly symmetrical brows, then lifts them to her hairline as if daring me to argue that logic with her. Which I won’t because I can’t win. I could also add that apparently, my men, who are no longer my men, well, one of them, has a tattoo of my lips by his appendage, too. Not that she’ll ever know that, either. I still don’t believe they’re my lips to begin with. Even if they look more like mine than Abby’s, which is the only other pair of lips Dark would ever ink onto his flesh.
Ugh.
I don’t want to think about either of them, much less discuss them openly with my sisters. Fuck that, fuck them, and fuck these bags under my eyes. And… and fuck Till for pointing out I’m sad and that Todd is a boring name. It is.
No more Harleys for me.
Only sensible men with boring names, sensible cars, and no tattoos.
When I sneer at Till, the bitch doesn’t relent. She keeps going, which draws other sisters from the bowels of the underground apartment into the common room for the public reaming of Kali—which is me, in case you forgot. At least I have my chocolate for comfort when Till rudely asks, “Does he fuck as vanilla as he looks?”
Cell rolls onto her side on the couch and cackles, knees pulled to her chest like a small child.
Sugar captures Cell’s mug before she makes a mess and politely covers her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.
Other sisters join in on the merriment of Till and her bullshit.
I glower at her, cheeks burning as hot as the sun.
“I’ll poison you,” I warn, even though we all know I won’t. I love Till, even if she’s irritating as hell, and I wanna punch her in the tit.
Till throws her head back and laughs, her entire body shaking so violently it vibrates through the cushions. Hating the sound at my expense, I pluck one of my last pieces of precious chocolate from the box and chuck it at her face. It knocks the side of her nose, and the mouthy bitch laughs louder, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, man.” Till slaps her leg between gasps. “You don’t even like vanilla, but you’re fuckin’ the dullest man in existence.”
I shove her leg. “Shut your mouth, bitch.”
Sweeping the tears from beneath her eyes and collecting the ball of chocolate from a couch cushion, Till pops the goodness into her mouth and chews thoughtfully for a second to calm her wild ass down. “Kali, seriously.” She pats my knee. “If you don’t want to tell us what happened, fine. But ditch Todd. He’s putting all of us to sleep.”
Ugh. This again ?
“Aren’t you supposed to be supportive?” I throw back.
“Of what? You’re sad. I don’t support that.”
Fine.
She’s right. I’m sad and don’t like vanilla, but I do need stability. Todd offers that in spades. He’s not a forever man—he’s a fine-for-now man.
Heaving a miserable, over-the-top sigh, I reach inside the neck of my t-shirt and into my bra and pull out a small citrine crystal. I set the tumbled beauty on Till’s jean-clad knee.
Eyes widening in surprise, she opens and closes her mouth like a fish.
“Thank you for caring,” I say, hoping she understands the depth of my gratitude. I won’t tell Till or anyone what happened on the yacht, because I can’t. Just as I can’t share the news about Dark or Sunshine. Partly because it’s Sacred Sinner business. Also, I don’t want to discuss what happened. Not the sex. Not the deceit. They know about Dark and his cheating with Abby. I can’t imagine how any of them would take it if they knew he’d been doing it for years before Abby arrived in our lives. Or worse than that, if Till found out Sunshine knew the whole time, she’d disown him. As much as I’m devastated he lied and protected his son for decades, I know Sunshine was also protecting me in the only way he knew how. While I respect that because I’d likely do the same for my kids, it doesn’t change the pain they’ve both caused.
The club and the brotherhood always come first.
Then family.
I’ve just now started to realize how true that really is.
That’s why I won’t date another biker .
I don’t want to be someone’s afterthought—their second priority.
I want to be their everything.
For years, I’ve remained single, living life on my terms. Dating Todd will not change that.
I’m still Kali—a little broken and in need of repair—a little gold to fill in my cracks.
I’m a mother.
A Sister.
Business owner.
Plant lady.
Murderer.
Friend.
And…
I’m taking it day by day.
Today was a good one.
Resting my head on Till’s shoulder, I relax with my sisters and listen to their stories, and for a little bit, everything’s normal. There’s no more ribbing. No more drama. Just girl talk, and I love girl talk.
It’s three in the morning when I park my Bronco in my driveway and turn off the engine. Key in hand, I climb my front steps. The dim streetlamps light my way as I unlock the front door, cross the threshold, set my keys on the table by my raven, and shut myself inside for a good night’s rest.
I toe my comfy moccasins off and drop them into the shoe basket.
“I thought you’d never get home,” a deep voice ripples through my darkened living room, and my entire body jolts in surprise, heart leaping into my throat.