Chapter Five
Ramona
I woke up staring at a ceiling that wasn’t mine.
For one confused second, I had no idea where I was. Then everything came rushing back.
Skull Island.
I groaned and rolled onto my back, dragging one hand over my face.
Yesterday had been a lot. Way too much for one day.
I’d spent part of the afternoon sitting in my RV, thinking I would somehow figure out exactly what the hell I was supposed to do next.
Instead, I’d made coffee, stared out the window at Pull and Wannabe keeping watch, rearranged a cabinet that didn’t need rearranging, and thought about Ashland so much that eventually I’d given up and come back to the clubhouse.
I’d figured out exactly nothing.
My former boss was still out there somewhere.
I still didn’t know if he’d followed me.
My RV still didn’t run.
I had no idea how long I could hide out on Skull Island without becoming a problem for everyone. And I had somehow landed in the middle of whatever the hell was happening with the Kings of Anarchy.
So, really, I’d accomplished nothing.
There was one thing I knew: I wanted to get back to the hospital.
That didn’t require hours of overthinking. I’d come to Skull Island because I needed help from Ashland.
Bob.
Whatever.
But after seeing him yesterday, something inside me had shifted.
He needed help too. Maybe not from me specifically, but I was going to be there anyway.
I didn’t know how long he was going to be in the hospital or what his recovery was going to look like. I didn’t know if he would actually let anyone help him without bitching the entire time.
But I could sit there. I could bring him food. I could make sure he didn’t throw anything else at Prime and hurt himself.
I could do something.
And after everything Ashland had done for me all those years ago, being there while he got back on his feet didn’t feel like some giant sacrifice.
It felt obvious.
A knock sounded at the door.
I frowned. It was early enough that I hadn’t even checked the time yet. “Enter.”
The door opened. I expected Shay. Maybe Pearl.
Instead, Anchor walked in first. Pearl came in behind him.
I pushed myself upright and pulled the blanket higher over my legs. “Am I in trouble?”
Pearl laughed.
Anchor didn’t.
That wasn’t reassuring.
“What?” I asked.
“We’re gonna go look at your RV,” Anchor said.
I blinked. “What?”
“Your RV.”
I flitted my fingers at him. “I heard that part.” I just didn’t believe he had said it.
“We’re gonna see why it isn’t running.”
I stared at him.
Pearl smiled like Anchor hadn’t just walked into my room and announced he was fixing my house.
“You guys don’t have to do that,” I insisted.
Anchor folded his arms. “Didn’t say we had to.” That was apparently all I was getting from him.
I looked at Pearl, and she lifted one hand. A foil-wrapped something appeared.
My eyes narrowed. “What’s that?”
“Breakfast burrito.”
“Is it yours or mine?” I asked. I wasn’t going to get excited if it wasn’t for me.
“It’s yours, and Piney made them.”
I looked at Anchor again, then Pearl, then the burrito.
Pearl waved it slightly, trying to entice me.
I pointed at her. “You should’ve led with that.” She should have just said breakfast burrito and I would have followed her anywhere.
She laughed and Anchor shook his head.
“Breakfast burritos will get me out of bed pretty easily,” I shrugged.
“Good,” Anchor said. “Eat it while we look at the RV.”
I glanced down at myself. I was wearing an old T-shirt and sleep shorts. “You want me to go out there like this?”
“Get dressed,” he grunted.
“You’re very bossy in the morning.”
He glanced at Pearl. “I’m bossy all day.”
Pearl smiled. “He’s consistent.”
“At least there’s that,” I sighed.
Anchor headed toward the door. Pearl set the burrito on the dresser. “We’ll meet you outside.”
I looked at her. “Seriously? You’re all going to look at the RV?”
“Seriously.”
“Why?”
Pearl shrugged. “Because it’s broken.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question.”
She smiled. I was starting to realize nobody around here ever gave a full answer unless they absolutely had to.
“Five minutes,” Anchor called from the hallway.
I looked toward the door. “I need more than five minutes.”
“Ten.”
“Better.”
Pearl laughed and followed him out.
The door shut and I stared at it.
Okay.
That had been unexpected.
I wasn’t sure what I’d expected from a motorcycle club, but it definitely hadn’t been breakfast burritos and a group effort to repair my RV.
Yesterday, I’d been ready to lose my mind because everyone kept telling me no and watching me like I might disappear if they blinked too long.
Today, Anchor was apparently organizing vehicle repair before I’d even put on pants.
I still didn’t completely understand these people. But I didn’t think they were bad.
Bossy? Absolutely.
Secretive? Definitely.
Way too comfortable deciding what I could and couldn’t do? Without question.
Bad? No.
I threw the blanket off and climbed out of bed. Ten minutes wasn’t much, but I could work with it.
I grabbed the burrito first. Priorities.
I peeled the foil back and took a bite. Eggs. Cheese. Potatoes. Sausage. “Oh, hell yes,” I groaned.
Piney could stay.
I set the burrito on the dresser and dug through my bag.
The day already felt warmer than yesterday, so I pulled out a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a black tank top with a faded design across the front that had survived about a hundred washes. I changed quickly, tugged on clean socks, and shoved my feet into my sneakers.
My hair was another problem.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror and winced. Apparently, sleeping in an actual bed had confused it.
I brushed through it, gathered everything on top of my head, and pulled it into a high ponytail. A few shorter pieces immediately escaped around my face.
Good enough.
I grabbed my sunglasses, phone, and the rest of the burrito.
When I stepped into the hallway, I could already hear people talking in the common room.
I took another bite as I walked.
The clubhouse was brighter in the morning. Less intimidating.
Maybe because nobody was staring at me like I’d wandered in off the street asking for one of their brothers by a name nobody knew. That probably helped.
I headed for the front door and stepped outside.
Then stopped. “What the hell?”
Anchor and Pearl were there. That part I expected. Prime and Shay were there too. So were Piney, Post, and Pull.
Seven people for my RV?
Prime looked at me over the top of his coffee cup. “What?”
I pointed toward everyone. “This feels excessive.”
Post shrugged. “The more heads, the better.”
“How many bikers does it take to fix an RV?” I asked.
Piney grinned. “We’re about to find out.”
Shay laughed.
I looked at Pearl. “You said we were looking at the RV.”
“We are,” she said, smiling.
Anchor started down the steps. “Come on.”
I sighed and followed.
Shay fell into step beside me.
“What are you eating?”
I held the burrito farther away from her. “Mine.”
“I didn’t ask for it,” she giggled. “I already had mine with a cup of coffee.”
“You looked at it.” Maybe I was a little too protective of my burrito. I didn’t get home-cooked meals like this often, so I knew to savor them. “Did Piney really make this?” I asked as I took another bite.
Piney turned around while walking backward. “Good?”
“Very.”
He slapped a hand against his chest. “Finally. Someone around here appreciates me.”
Post snorted.
Pearl moved up beside me. “Push and McKayla are at the hospital already.”
That got my attention. “With Erin?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded. I hadn’t stopped thinking about McKayla’s sister either. “So how is she?”
Shay hesitated. There it was. That pause again. “She’s hanging in there.”
“What happened to her?”
Prime looked straight ahead.
Anchor kept walking.
Pearl suddenly found the ground very interesting.
I noticed all of it.
Shay gave me a small smile. “It’s kind of a long story.”
“So I’ve gathered.”
“You’ll know soon.”
That was interesting. “Soon?”
Prime coughed.
I looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
He took another drink of coffee. “Bob wants to tell you.”
I stopped walking.
Everyone else took another step before realizing I wasn’t with them.
Anchor looked back.
“Bob wants to tell me what?” I asked.
Anchor glared at Prime.
Prime lifted one shoulder. “What? She asked.”
I looked from him to Anchor. “So there is something to tell me.”
Anchor sighed. “There is.”
“And Bob specifically said he wants to tell me?”
“Yeah.”
That landed differently than I expected.
I pushed my sunglasses onto the top of my head. “Why?”
Anchor looked at me like the answer should be obvious. “Because it’s what he wants.”
“You’re his,” Pull added.
Silence.
My eyebrows shot up.
Pearl smacked his arm.
Pull frowned. “What?”
“She is not his,” she hissed.
Pull rubbed his arm where she had smacked him. “You know what I meant.”
“No,” I said slowly. “I’m not sure I do.”
Prime grinned.
Shay bit her lip.
Anchor rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re connected to Bob.”
“Much better wording,” Pearl said.
Anchor ignored her. “He doesn’t want everybody else filling you in before he gets a chance to.”
I stared at him for a second, then nodded. “Okay.” That was fair. Actually, I kind of liked that.
If there was something happening with the club that involved Ash nearly getting killed and McKayla’s sister ending up in the hospital, I’d rather hear it from Ashland anyway.
Even if he would probably give me the shortest, grumpiest version possible.
We reached the parking lot, and my RV came into view.
Still crooked. Still dead. Still mine.
I smiled despite myself. “There she is.”
Piney headed straight for the hood.
I followed. “Do you actually know what you’re doing?”
He stopped with his hand on the latch. He looked offended. “I made the breakfast burrito you’re eating.”
“That does not qualify you as a mechanic. I’d trust you to cook me an egg, not fix my RV.”
“It shows range,” he insisted.
Post laughed.
Piney popped the hood. I moved beside him immediately.
Anchor looked at me. “You gonna let them work?”
“It is my RV,” I pointed out, obviously. “I need to know what he is doing to her. I want to know what’s wrong.”