Chapter Six
Cleo stood in front of her full-length mirror, adjusting her top and slimming her hands down her waist to her hips. It was silly to think one day would make a difference. Still, another year older.
She gave one last look before grabbing her phone and tucking it into her back pocket.
She walked out of her room and down the long hall.
There were four bedrooms upstairs besides her own.
She was at the end, separated in a sense from the brothers, but shared the floor with Ghost, Cue, Oak, and Cypher.
Cross, Gent, and Wraith’s rooms were on the first floor past the staircase, and Ace’s was on the opposite side of the clubhouse.
There was a separate wing with his room and where they held their meetings.
Cleo rarely went to that area. It was considered Ace’s domain, and no one was allowed to enter unless invited.
The clubhouse was more of a compound than a house.
There was an addition on the back. It was where most of the parties took place.
Off that large area was a small hallway leading to Jekyll and Hyde’s rooms. The corner of her mouth curled.
She could never think of the cousins’ road names without smiling.
They were fitting. Both men were currently serving time upstate but due to be released in the next few months.
I have to write to them. Knox and Wraith may have been her first prison pen pals but they weren’t her last. She wasn’t as consistent writing to Jekyll and Hyde but she made a point of sending a letter every other month.
Every once in a while, Hyde would write back.
It was short. He mostly complained about the food and asked how everyone in the club was doing.
Jekyll didn’t write but he always signed his name to Hyde’s letter which gave her a chuckle.
All the doors were closed, and it was eerily quiet on the second floor. Cleo had heard the motorcycles pulling into the driveway last night. It was close to two in the morning when they got home.
Cleo tiptoed down the creaky staircase, holding on to the banister for extra support. The club had done plenty of additions and upgrades to the clubhouse over the years, but they’d neglected the stairs. She stepped down looking to her left. Cross and Wraith’s doors were both closed.
Cleo headed toward the main room and quickly halted in the doorway, peering around the area.
Part of her job was cleaning up the clubhouse as well as the motel rooms. She’d spent a few hours the night before straightening everything up.
It seemed the men had come home and hadn’t gone straight to bed.
She walked across the room and into the kitchen.
“Good morning.”
Cue glanced over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth hiked. “Hey.”
She grabbed a garbage bag from the closet and closed the door.
“Making breakfast. You want something?”
“Like a special request?” For my birthday?
Cue stilled and slowly angled his head. “Like I’m making eggs and bacon. You want some?”
Her heart deflated, and she shook her head, muttering, “No, thank you.”
Cleo walked out, grabbing the bottles and cans from the tables and floor. She dumped the ashtrays and washed them before grabbing the broom and sweeping the room. Only a few hours into her birthday and she’d lost almost all of the excitement. It was just like any other day.
The brothers wandered in periodically. A few took seats at the table, having coffee.
She noticed Cue eating his breakfast, but he hadn’t offered to make any for the others.
When she turned to put the broom away, Wraith was walking in.
His black tee stretched over his chest and tucked into his faded denim.
“Welcome home.”
He lifted his chin but continued into the kitchen without a word.
It was common practice for Wraith. He was silent with most people.
In fact, it was always a good thing when he didn’t say anything.
If Wraith was talking, he was usually pissed off.
Hopefully, it meant he wasn’t still upset with her about the poker night. There was only one way to find out.
She casually followed him into the kitchen, and thankfully, he was standing near the coffee machine alone.
“How was the run?” she asked, noticing his shoulders tense.
“Long.”
Cleo could try and make small talk, but neither one of them was good at it. She strolled over to the counter next to him. She purposely lowered her voice.
“Are you still mad at me?”
Wraith slowly angled his head, his dark eyes pinning her in his stare. Too many people overlooked brown eyes as nothing special. Wraith’s were beautiful. He stepped closer, which forced her to crane her neck.
“You still mad at me?”
Why would she be upset with him? Cleo was the one who’d snuck out, didn’t tell anyone where she was going and ultimately put Rogue in the center of the clubhouse.
Wraith’s jaw squared but he remained silent.
She replayed the night in her mind and when she got to her parting words, clarity struck.
Is it so hard to believe that someone would want to be my friend?
Or go out on a real date with me? Cleo ducked her head, staring down at the counter as the heat rose to her cheeks.
His silence that night had stung. She took it as confirmation.
But after thinking it over, she understood why.
“No, I’m not upset. I totally get why you wouldn’t think anyone would want…”
His growl echoed through the room and she lifted her gaze to meet his harsh scowl.
“I don’t fucking think that.”
She blinked. “Oh.”
“I’m not mad, just don’t like not knowing where you are. Or if something happens like the other night, I’m not there to protect you. Going off and putting yourself in danger? I don’t like that.”
Cleo understood. Although no one ever spoke about it, the club had made a vow on behalf of Knox. They’d always keep her protected because of her brother.
“I know you made a promise to Knox, and…”
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “This has got nothing to do with your brother.”
Wraith scanned her face, lingering over her lips.
Her heart spiked and warmth spread over her skin and through her veins.
They were only inches apart and while they weren’t touching, the moment felt intimate.
If it didn’t have anything to do with Knox then why was he so protective of her?
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, but she never got the chance.
“Am I interrupting?”
The sound of Gent’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. It completely ruined the one intimate moment she’d ever had with Wraith. He straightened and continued to make his coffee without saying a word. Cleo quickly skirted out of the room, refusing to make eye contact with Gent.
Jerk.
Cleo stood off in the corner, pretending to straighten up what she’d just cleaned an hour earlier.
She constantly glanced toward the kitchen waiting for Wraith to come out.
She could’ve been totally reading it wrong, but their small interaction seemed to take a personal turn.
She couldn’t help but wonder what else Wraith would’ve said had Gent not come in.
“Hey.”
Cleo spun around, smiling. “Hi, Ghost. How was the run?”
He inched closer, shoving a plastic bag in her hands. “Here.”
She glanced down. “What’s this?”
“Just fucking take it. Don’t open it here.”
She grasped the bag and watched him pass. They’d been off to the side, but when she turned watching Ghost walk toward the kitchen, she noticed all eyes were on her. Wraith came into the room and was laser focused on the bag in her hands.
“What’s in the bag?” Gent asked with a playful hitch in his tone.
Cleo ignored him and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “I have to go upstairs.”
“Not gonna share, Cleo?” Gent asked as if challenging her.
“I will, but I…”
“Open it.” The distinct bite in Wraith’s tone had her flinching slightly.
Ghost walked back into the room with a mug in one hand and a bowl in another. He had to have heard Gent and Wraith, but he gave no indication. He sat down and sipped his coffee.
“Cleo,” Wraith said, and she glanced up at him. “Open it.”
She flattened her lips and slowly peeked inside the bag. She pulled out the gemstone bracelets. There were five ranging in color. They were so beautiful. Cleo did her best to mask her smile.
“What is it?” Gent asked.
“Um…” She cleared her throat, looking over at Ghost. He was eating his cereal and scrolling through his phone. He didn’t even acknowledge the conversation.
“Bracelets,” she mumbled. Gent never took much interest in Cleo other than teasing. It never came off particularly mean or cruel, but on occasion he’d embarrassed her. Like now.
“What’s that? Bracelets?” Gent snickered, looking over at Ghost. “That’s fucking sweet, brother.”
Ghost ignored Gent. It was awkward, to say the least, and she was eager to make an exit.
“Um, Ace?”
He glanced up from the table, lifting his cigarette to his lips.
“I was thinking I’d go to the motel a little early if that’s okay. Since I missed last night’s shift, I figured there might be more to do.”
Ace stared back at her in a lingering silence.
“Need you to go with Cue and Oak and pick up supplies for the house.”
Another night off? The women wouldn’t be happy having to clean their own rooms.
“Okay, but I can go to the motel now and…”
“No.” Ace’s tone was firm and left no room for negotiation. He took a drag from his cigarette and smashed it in the ashtray. “Another better option, right?”
It was. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with him. He’d given her an order and she’d follow it.
Cleo turned toward the hallway and rammed into Joker, who was walking in the room. Unfortunately, he was holding a large bouquet of flowers, and the collision caused the vase to tip, pouring water all over his pants.
“Fuck,” he snapped.
Cleo reached out to help steady the vase, but his sharp glare had her retreating quickly.