Chapter 2Evan
Chapter Two
EVAN
“C ock sucking mother fucker,” I grumble to myself as I flip the light switch that’s now not working up and down. Buy an old Victorian house, I said. It will be fun, I said. Jokes on me, right? Victorian homes are so breathtakingly gorgeous, but no one tells you what a fucking money pit they are. My goal in life was to always have my dream house. And a family. That’s one thing I haven’t quite locked down yet.
I bought this gorgeous headache last year. It was in foreclosure, and I got it for a freaking steal. And the best part? It sits on ten acres, most of which are woods. Perfect for my little business and to keep people out. I’m also just far enough outside of Ravenna Heights that I don’t really hear much of anything. I honestly only ever hear a bunch of bikes come down this way, and they’ve never bothered me.
This will come as a shock to some, but people aren’t exactly my favorite. It’s the whole ‘they’re nice to your face and shady as hell behind your back’ thing.
Unfortunately, there is a downside to this place. I seriously underestimated the amount of TLC it would need. I’ve been running on booze and boxed mac and cheese because I refused to go into town while I was finishing this kitchen. And as a fellow foodie, it’s been slowly chipping away at my soul.
Sighing as I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket, I set the bags of groceries down before pulling it out to see that it’s Zeke calling. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey, Ev. Was wondering if you had a minute to help me out today?”
“You know I do shit head. Just tell me what you need,” I say as I roll my eyes.
I remember the exact day I met Zeke. I had just arrived at what was probably my fifth foster home, and let's just say I… wasn’t met with the warmest welcome. It probably doesn’t help that I’m awkward as fuck when I first meet new people. But Zeke took me under his wing that day and has been the closest thing to a brother that I’ve ever had. Like recognized like or whatever the fuck they say. Plus, I’m still working on paying him back for that night I’ll never forget.
I hear his sigh of relief on the other end. “You’re a lifesaver, Ev. Can you meet me at the clubhouse? ”
Ah. The infamous clubhouse that I hear so little about. When Zeke first got out of the Army, he caught up with some guy he used to be in with, bought a bike, and the rest was history. I have yet to meet any of them, though. He seems to like keeping that part of his life private, and I haven’t wanted to pry.
“Yeah, I can. Text me the address?” I can’t help the funny feeling that’s building in the pit of my stomach as we both hang up—almost like a huge feeling of dread.
What kind of favor would a motorcycle club need from me?