Chapter 2
Going out with friends
The front of the large antebellum plantation house was lit up by spotlights. Abby peered through the windshield as Lindsey parked at the end of a line of cars on the side of the gravel drive.
“I’m so excited you came out tonight.” Lindsey squeezed Abby’s arm as they walked from the car and linked their elbows.
Abby twisted the corner of her mouth. She’d finally given in to Lindsey’s badgering to go out with her.
She’d kind of run out of excuses—she had absolutely no responsibilities that weekend and she’d even caught up on grading and lesson plans during the in-school teacher workday, so she didn’t have that to fall back on.
“Come on.” Lindsey must have sensed her hesitation. “You promised you’d try to have fun. You deserve a night out, Abby. Let loose. Have fun!”
“I have fun,” she said indignantly.
“Going to the aquarium every weekend doesn’t count.”
Abby gave her a baleful look and sighed. “Fine. Who is this party for anyway?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I don’t think it’s for anyone—they’re just having a party.”
Abby stared at the row of motorcycles parked at the top of the drive. “Who’s they?”
“The Knights.”
“The White Knights? The Templar Knights? Gladys Knight?”
“The Tarnished Knights. They’re a motorcycle club.”
Abby stopped in her tracks, causing Lindsey to jerk on her arm. “Lindsey! We can’t be at a…a…” She glanced around, checking for anyone nearby. “A criminal hideout,” she finished with a hiss.
“Oh my god.” Lindsey rolled her entire head and yanked on her arm.
“First of all, it’s not much of a hideout if they’re throwing a party and inviting people.
Second, they’re not the kind of motorcycle club in your books.
Most of them are military veterans and half of them are Veterans Against Child Abuse members. ”
Abby ignored the dig about her favorite romance genre. “Really?”
“Really. The worst any of them does is smoke weed and get drunk.”
Abby chewed her lip. That didn’t sound so bad. Hell, she’d smoked the occasional joint in college.
Lindsey stopped and faced her. “I’ve been to their parties before and it’s nothing worse than any other party.
Or nightclub. It’s probably safer because they keep an eye on things.
I promise—if you’re at all uncomfortable or weirded out, we’ll leave.
And I know one of the members and she’s a solid person. ”
“She?” That got Abby’s attention.
“Yeah. She. I told you they weren’t that kind of motorcycle club.”
Abby closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She needed this. She’d promised herself she’d start getting out more often and try to remember who she was before her life went to hell and back.
Old resentment and anger rose to the surface, but she pushed it down.
She couldn’t change the past and getting angry about it had never done her any good.
She opened her eyes. “Okay. Lead the way.”
“Yay!” Lindsey did a little wiggle, then linked their arms back together. “Let’s go have fun. And maybe get you laid.”
Abby’s jaw dropped. “What? No. That’s not—”
Lindsey threw her head back and laughed.
There was a full-size suit of armor in the entryway.
A literal tarnished knight. The seams and joints of the armor were patinaed and rusted.
It stood with both gauntlets resting on the end of the pommel of an upright sword, point down.
The breast plate and shoulder pieces were etched with delicate filigree.
If it was authentic, which Abby doubted since iron and steel didn’t patina the way it was on the armor, it was likely ceremonial rather than functional.
The art historian part of her brain perked up and whispered, “Look at it. Touch it.”
Lindsey pulled her further into the house before Abby could become that person at the party.
A roped-off staircase led upstairs. The downstairs was divided into four large rooms, two on either side of the center hallway.
Lindsey stopped inside the first room on the left and searched through the crowd. She waved, and a woman across the room waved back and made her way to them.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you to Katherine.”
“Who’s Katherine?” Abby asked.
“It’s her house. Her husband is the president of the club.”
The older woman was a little taller than Abby, and she had her waist-length, salt-and-pepper hair pulled back into a long braid. She pulled Lindsey into a quick hug. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“Thanks. Katherine, this is Abby, one of my best friends. Abby, this is Katherine, one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.”
Katherine laughed. “I don’t know about coolest, but thanks.”
“Don’t let her fool you,” Lindsey said. “She’s lived all over the world, used to fly C-17s, nursed her husband back to health when everyone said he’d probably never walk again, and wrote a book about it.”
“Wow.” That was impressive.
Katherine shook her head. “We all do what we have to do when there’s no other choice.”
She was also profound. Abby felt like she’d been doing what she had to do for a very long time.
“Anyway,” Katherine said. “Welcome. Beer, wine, and other drinks are at the bar in the backroom. There’s also burgers, chicken, and more sides than I want to keep as leftovers, so please help yourselves.”
“Thank you,” Abby said.
“Thanks,” Lindsey said. “Let’s get some drinks.”
The bar was manned by two guys in black vests. Glancing around, Abby noticed several of the men and a few of the women, including Katherine, wore similar vests. The large patch on the back of their vests bore a depiction of the suit of armor in the foyer.
They wandered into the rooms on the other side of the house. There were probably a hundred or more people in the house, but it didn’t feel crowded since they were scattered throughout the rooms. She also saw several people out on the porch through the open French doors.
“Ooh. There’s someone else I want you to meet.”
Lindsey led her to one of the small tables in the other room at the front of the house. The armor was visible in the foyer—they’d essentially walked in a full circle.
“Lindsey!” A dark-haired woman jumped out of her chair and hugged Lindsey, rocking from side to side. She let her go and looked at Abby. “Who are you?”
Abby was surprised at the excitedness of her question. Like a kid on the playground making a new friend. “Uh, Abby.”
“Hi, Abby. I’m Angela. Or Angie. Or Ange. I’ll answer to all of them. How do you know Lindsey?”
“We work together.” Abby didn’t know what to make of the overly friendly woman.
“You’re a teacher too? That’s so cool. What do you teach? Sit down. Join us. This is Dani, my best friend.” Angela sat and patted the blonde woman next to her on the head.
“Don’t mind Angie,” Dani said, batting Angela’s hand away from her head. “She gets excited when she meets new people. Like a puppy, but she doesn’t pee on you—unless you pay extra.”
“Shut up. It’s just nice to meet new women who I don’t know through work and aren’t biker chicks.” Angela’s eyebrows pinched together, and she leaned forward. “You’re not a biker chick, are you?”
Lindsey laughed, and Abby glared at her as they took seats at the table. She had a direct view of the suit of armor from her seat. “No, I’m not a biker chick.”
“Oh, good.”
“What’s good?” A curvy brunette joined them and sat in the last vacant chair.
Abby noticed Angela side-eye Dani, who rolled her eyes.
“Hey, Julia,” Angela said. “Not working this weekend?”
“No. I heard the Knights were having a party and made sure I asked for the night off.” She looked at Abby. “We haven’t met. I’m Julia.”
“Abby.” She waved in greeting.
“Did y’all come with one of the guys?”
“No,” Lindsey said. “I’m friends with Katherine.”
Abby caught the tone of Lindsey’s voice but didn’t understand the reason behind it. Julia’s questions seemed innocent enough.
“I’m going to get a refill,” Dani said. “Can I get anyone anything?”
“I’ll take another,” Abby said, holding up her beer. If she was going to let loose, she needed a little social lubrication.
“Me too,” Lindsey said.
Dani took her empty glass and left.
“What do you teach, Abby?” Angela asked.
“Art and fashion design.”
“Ooh, you’re a teacher?” Julia asked.
“Yes. We both teach at Charleston STEAM Academy.”
“That’s so cute. It must be so fun to teach kids to finger paint.”
Of all the condescending, fake-ass crap she’d ever heard. Now she understood Lindsey’s tone from earlier. A commotion in the foyer distracted her before she could think of a snappy retort about her Master of Fine Arts and year interning as a restorationist in Prague.
A tall man with dark blonde hair and a lot of tattoos held the elbow of a woman as he pointed toward the front door.
He was attractive in a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks kind of way, even as he scowled at the woman he was talking to.
Honestly, he looked like a cover model from one of her favorite MC romances, which, yes, may have influenced her opinions of motorcycle clubs and what would be going on at the party.
She liked her forbidden fantasy on the page, not in real life.
The man let go of the woman and stood with his arms crossed while the woman appeared to plead with him.
“Who’s he talking to?” Angela asked. They were all watching the interaction.
“No idea,” Lindsey said. “I’ve never seen her before. Looks like a lovers’ quarrel though.”
Angela scoffed. “Tink doesn’t do lovers’ quarrels.”
“Tink?” Abby asked. What kind of name was Tink?
“It’s short for Tinker. It’s his callsign.” Dani set their beers down.
“Mmm.” Julia tipped her chair back to get a better look at the man as he walked away from the woman. “Dangerous is fucking sexy, but not for long-term. I wouldn’t want a convicted criminal around all the time.”
Dani slammed her glass on the table. “Why don’t you fuck off and shut the fuck up about something you know nothing about.”
“Sor-ree.” Julia stood and flounced away.
Abby stared wide-eyed at Dani as she took a long drink.
“He’s Dani’s brother,” Angela explained. “She’s a little protective.”
“Oh,” Abby said. “Does Julia know?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Dani said. “She’s a gossip and a bitch and she’s repeating shit she’s heard people talking about without knowing the full story.”
Abby almost asked what the full story was, but it wasn’t her business. She didn’t like to gossip, and Dani didn’t seem to be in the mood to explain anyway.
Angela spread her hands on the table. “Know what we need? Shots. There’s a bottle of Fireball behind the bar. I’m gonna get it.”