Chapter Three
Wheels
Goldie was still asleep.
I tipped the wooden chair back onto two legs and braced one boot against the wall across from her door. The chair creaked under me like it was about two seconds from dumping my ass on the floor, but I didn’t move.
The hallway was quiet.
Downstairs, the clubhouse was alive in that low, tired way it got after a long night.
Boots moved across the main floor. Someone cursed near the bar.
A drawer slammed. Every now and then, I heard the low rumble of Twister’s voice, then Swift answering him, both of them sounding like they’d slept about as much as I had.
Which was damn near not at all.
Goldie had been in that room since a little after one in the morning. It was now noon, or close to it, and she hadn’t made a sound. Not a shuffle. Not a creak of the bed. Not a trip to the bathroom. Nothing.
At first, I’d thought she would sleep a couple hours, maybe three, then wake up wild-eyed and ready to either run or spill everything she knew about The Ledger.
Instead, she slept like the dead.
That told me plenty.
The woman hadn’t been sleeping. Not really. Maybe not for days.
I let my head fall back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.
The old plaster had a crack running down the middle, and one corner needed patching.
The whole damn building still needed work, but it was ours.
A month ago, this hallway had smelled like dust and mildew.
Now it smelled like old wood, laundry detergent, gun oil, and whatever cleaning shit Tempi had decided made the building less “biker dungeon” and more “habitable.”
Her words, not mine.
Goldie was safe now. At least as safe as she could be with us.
I hoped she knew that. I hoped some part of her had finally realized she wasn’t alone in a car with headlights bearing down on her anymore. She wasn’t running back roads in the dark. She wasn’t watching every mirror, waiting for a bullet or a black SUV to slide up beside her.
She was behind a locked door in the middle of a clubhouse full of armed, pissed-off men who had been waiting for a reason to hit back.
The Ledger had given us one. Hell, they’d given us ten.
I shifted in the chair and kept listening.
I wanted her awake. I wasn’t gonna lie about that.
That envelope she’d shoved into my chest had been sitting in the safe most of the night, and I wanted to know what it all meant.
Goldie knew.
She knew more than what was in that envelope. I’d seen it in her eyes in that field. She had the look of someone who had found the bottom of something ugly and wished to hell she hadn’t kept digging.
She needed sleep, though.
For now, the club was safe. We were on high alert. No one came near the building without being seen. No one sat across the street without getting clocked. No SUV rolled past twice without three men writing down the plate and two more ready to follow.
Nothing was getting by us again.
Not if I had a damn thing to say about it.
A floorboard creaked at the end of the hallway.
I dropped the front legs of the chair to the floor and turned my head.
Tempi came up the stairs carrying a mug in one hand and wearing the expression of a woman who had already decided she was about to be a pain in my ass.
Great.
She stopped a few feet away from me, planted her free hand on her hip, and looked me over from boots to face. “You sleep at all last night?”
I leaned back in the chair again, though I kept all four legs on the floor this time. “Nodded off for a few minutes here and there.”
Tempi snorted. “So, no.”
“Pretty much.”
She lifted the mug and took a sip. “Twister slept about the same. Which means he didn’t. Swift looks like he wants to murder someone for breathing too loud, and Gramps told Nugget if he dropped one more broom, he was gonna make him eat it.”
“Sounds normal.”
“It’s not normal,” she said, though the corner of her mouth twitched. “You guys are all on high alert and grumpy as hell.”
“That’s how it’s gonna be until we figure out what the hell is going on.”
Her smile faded a little, and she glanced at Goldie’s closed door. “Still asleep?”
“Yeah.”
“Damn.” She lowered her voice, even though Goldie clearly wasn’t waking up for anything. “She must’ve been exhausted.”
“That’s my guess.”
Tempi looked at the door for another beat, then back at me. “What’s she like?”
I shrugged. “Blonde.”
Tempi stared at me.
“What?”
“That’s your answer?”
“You asked what she’s like.”
“I meant is she stuck up? Snooty? Mean? Scared? Bossy?” Tempi waved her mug in the air. “You know, details.”
I looked toward Goldie’s door, and for a second, I wasn’t thinking about her wild eyes or the way she’d yelled at us in that field. I was thinking about the ride back.
The way she’d gotten on my bike like she’d done it before, but her hands still shook when they touched my sides.
The way she’d held herself stiff for the first twenty minutes, like relaxing even an inch might get her killed.
The way, somewhere after the gas stop, she’d finally given in and leaned into my back.
Not much.
Just enough for me to feel her weight settle.
Just enough for me to know she’d stopped fighting the ride and maybe stopped fighting me.
I liked it. That was the part I hadn’t had much time to think about. Or maybe I had, sitting outside her door all damn night.
But that wasn’t what Tempi was asking, and I sure as hell wasn’t telling her that.
“She seems cool enough,” I gruffed. “Didn’t really do much talking, though.”
Tempi’s eyebrows lifted. “Cool enough?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s all I get?”
“That’s all I got.”
She nodded slowly, her lips pressed together like she was trying real hard not to laugh at me. “I suppose there wasn’t much time for heart-to-heart conversations when you guys were riding to keep your butts safe.”
“We weren’t worried about our butts.”
“Sure.”
“We weren’t.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wheels.”
Before I could tell her exactly what would help me sleep at night, the door beside me opened. I was out of the chair before the hinges stopped moving.
Goldie stood in the doorway with one hand wrapped around the edge of the door.
Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun that looked like it had survived a tornado.
She was still wearing the same wrinkled T-shirt and shorts from yesterday, and her face had that soft, confused look people got when they slept too hard and woke up not knowing what century it was.
Her eyes moved from me to Tempi, then down the hallway. Then she looked at the wall clock mounted near the stairs. Her eyes widened. “It’s 12:07.”
“Yeah,” I said.
“How?”
Tempi leaned against the wall. “Well, that’s kind of how time works. The little hand goes around—”
Goldie held up a hand. “I know how time works. I meant, how did I sleep until noon? I haven’t done that since I was in college.” She tipped her head to the side and frowned. “And that only happened when I drank way too much.” Then she pointed at me. “Did you drug me?”
I leveled my gaze at her. “I’ve never had to drug a woman in my life. I’m not starting with you.”
Tempi pressed her lips together, but her shoulders shook.
Goldie blinked at me. For a second, I thought she might snap back. Then her mouth twitched. Not a full smile, but close.
Tempi jumped in before either one of us could say anything else. “It was probably all the fresh air on the ride back. Knocks you right out.”
Goldie stared at me for a beat, like she still wasn’t fully convinced. Then she turned her attention to Tempi and stuck out her hand. “I’m sure you know I’m Goldie, but I don’t know who you are.”
Tempi smiled and shook her hand. “I’m Tempi. I own The Badger’s Den, and I’m dating Twister.”
Goldie nodded. “I’ve been to The Badger’s Den a time or two when I was in college, and I met your…” She tipped her head to the side. “Twister last night.”
Tempi laughed. “Yeah, he is my Twister.”
Goldie’s eyes softened just a little. “That makes sense.”
Tempi glanced at me. “It does?”
Goldie shrugged. “He looks like the type of guy who’d belong to somebody who says that with a straight face.”
I barked out a laugh before I could stop it.
Tempi pointed her mug at Goldie. “I like her.”
Goldie looked surprised by that, like she hadn’t expected anyone to like her. Or maybe she hadn’t expected to care.
We all stood there for a second, the three of us taking up too much space in the narrow hallway.
Goldie shifted on her feet and looked down at herself. “Uh, well…”
“Are you hungry?” Tempi asked.
Goldie looked up.
“I mean, you should be since you just slept for hours, and I doubt you ate while you were on the run,” Tempi rambled.
“We weren’t really thinking about eating on the way back,” I said.
Tempi held up her free hand. “I’m not judging here. I’m just offering a cheeseburger and maybe a beer.”
Goldie laughed. “I think I’ll take you up on both of those as soon as I use the bathroom.” She nodded to the bathroom behind me. “If I could just get through.”
“Oh, shit, yeah.” I stepped to the side.
Goldie moved across the hallway.
“I’ll just be right—” I started.
“Downstairs,” Tempi interrupted.
Goldie froze with her hand almost on the bathroom door.
Tempi smiled too wide. “We will just be downstairs so you don’t feel like we’re waiting outside the bathroom like two creeps.”
Then she grabbed my shoulder and yanked me backward. “Right, Wheels?”
I looked from Goldie to Tempi. “Uh, yeah,” I grunted.
Goldie gave a small chuckle and ducked into the bathroom. The door closed behind her, and the lock clicked.
The second it did, I yanked away from Tempi and glared at her. “Twister told me I’m supposed to keep an eye on her.”
Tempi rolled her eyes so hard I was surprised she didn’t hurt herself. She grabbed my arm again and started dragging me toward the stairs. “You are, but you don’t need to listen to her pee, caveman.”
“I wasn’t listening to her pee.”
“You were about two seconds from posting up with your ear against the door.”
“I was not.”
“You absolutely were.” She tugged harder. “There are no windows in the bathroom, and I don’t think Goldie plans on rappelling down the side of the building. You can stand down until she comes down the stairs.”
“I don’t stand down.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
“Only because you’re annoying.”
She smiled over her shoulder. “I’ve been called worse.”
I let her pull me down the stairs because, unfortunately, she had a point.
There weren’t windows in the bathroom, and Goldie probably wasn’t gonna rappel down the side of the building.
Probably.
We hit the bottom step, and I stopped. Tempi kept walking for two more steps before she realized I wasn’t with her. She turned and looked at me.
I folded my arms and leaned against the post at the bottom of the staircase.
She stared.
I stared back.
“You’re serious,” she said.
“Yep.”
“You’re gonna stand there until she comes down?”
“Yep.”
Tempi shook her head and laughed. “I’ll give it to you, Wheels. When Twister gives you an order, you really listen.”
The main room of the clubhouse looked like hell had passed through and left cigarette butts behind.
The tables had been moved around. A few chairs were stacked near the wall.
There was still plywood over one of the busted windows, and the smell of coffee, cleaner, and gunpowder lingered in the air, no matter how much Gramps had sprayed whatever industrial-strength lemon crap he’d found under the sink.
Hodge sat at the bar with one elbow propped on the counter and a scowl carved into his face.
Nugget was near the pool table, half lying across it like he’d been awake too long to care about proper furniture use.
Gramps had a broom in one hand and a look on his face that said he was one dropped beer bottle away from murder.
Swift sat on the couch with Britta tucked against his side. She looked better than she had after being shot, but still tired. Her shoulder was healing, but I knew Swift was watching every move she made like he could keep pain away by glaring at it hard enough.
Twister stood near the bar, phone in hand, talking low to someone. He looked up when we came down, eyes flicking to me, then to the stairs behind me.
I gave him a short nod.
Goldie was awake.
He nodded back.
That was all we needed.
Tempi set her mug on the bar and clapped her hands once. “I’m going to start the burgers. You want one?”
I scoffed. “Make it two.”
“Burgers?” Hodge called, sitting up straighter. “I want two.”
“Me, too,” Gramps and Nugget said in unison.
Gramps immediately turned and glared at Nugget. “Don’t copy me.”
“I didn’t copy you. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“Because I’m growing.”
“You’re a grown-ass man.”
Nugget shrugged. “Spiritually growing.”
Hodge pointed at him. “That might be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Not even top ten,” Swift muttered from the couch.
Britta laughed and pressed her face against Swift’s shoulder, probably trying not to pull at her stitches.
Tempi pointed toward her. “You better get your ass in here, girl. I’m going to need help making thirty burgers.”
Britta pressed a kiss to Swift’s cheek and pushed up from the couch. Swift’s hand went immediately to her hip like he was going to help her stand.
She gave him a look. He lifted his hand, but not far.
“I’m fine,” she told him.
“Didn’t say you weren’t.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I think a lot of things.”
Britta smiled. “Lucky me.”
Swift’s mouth twitched as she moved away from him.
“Coming!” Britta called to Tempi.
The two women disappeared behind the bar, already talking about buns, cheese, and who the hell had eaten the last jar of pickles.
I stayed at the bottom of the stairs with my arms crossed and my ears open, listening for the bathroom door.
The club could joke and grumble and pretend we were having a normal afternoon with burgers on the grill and women in the kitchen, but none of us had forgotten what waited outside.
The Ledger.
Goldie’s envelope.
The gunfire from last night.
The fact that she had run to us instead of the police.
She knew something.
And until I knew exactly who had her scared out of her mind, I wasn’t moving from the bottom of those stairs.