Chapter 11
LARK
I gape at him. “I’m fine to ride, but shouldn’t we take the Ducati instead of my lil Ninja?”
Hal’s bike has to be worth at least a hundred grand. Ducatis are also recognizable and a thief’s wet dream. If we should worry about either bike, it should be his.
And as much as my gut says I can trust Hal, it’s still a huge leap of faith to ride behind him. I’d be putting my life in his hands, and I’m just not ready to go there yet. Even though I still feel a little shaky from my near high side, I’d rather ride my own bike.
“Eh, it’s not like it’s my KLR or anything.
I’ll just buy another one if someone is dumb enough to steal it.
” Hal’s lips twist into a concerned frown.
“You sure? It’s okay if you’re still feeling messed up and can’t ride.
I’m happy to have you as a passenger. I have a lot of experience with people riding behind me, if that’s what you’re worried about. ”
Jealousy burns in the pit of my stomach thinking about all the women who have been on his bike, but I shove it down. Hal isn’t and won’t ever be mine, so he can have as many girls backpack as he wants.
“I’m sure. Cross my heart and all that jazz.” I studiously avoid mentioning that I almost ate shit at a buck fifty earlier. I don’t think that’d help my case, and I don’t want Hal seeing me as weak or fragile. For some reason, I crave his respect.
He sighs. “Will you at least ride linked with me, then? It’ll give me some peace of mind if you can holler if you need anything.”
His concern makes my heart feel all mushy inside. I’m not really used to people caring, but I kind of like it.
Embarrassed by how warm and fuzzy I feel, I shrug and try to seem nonchalant. “I’m good with that.”
We sync our comms systems together before both of us gear up and hop onto our bikes. I can feel the rumble of Hal’s Streetfighter in my chest, and I can’t help the stupid grin on my face at how cool it sounds.
After checking to make sure I’m good to go, Hal leads me out of the parking lot and through the winding streets of Willow Bend. We have a chill ride as we head to the small downtown.
When we arrive, Hal parks in one of the empty parallel spots on the street. I follow his lead and line my bike up next to his.
After yanking off my helmet, I instantly spot the cute little ice cream place Hal mentioned.
Its brick exterior is painted a cheery light blue, and the pastel pink-and-white-striped awning makes it look like something out of a movie.
Laughing ice-cream cones dance on the darkened window and above the “Closed” sign on the door.
Turning to Hal, I raise an eyebrow. “It’s not open, Hal.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “Ye of little faith.”
Placing a palm on my lower back, Hal guides me around the side and down an alley that’s pretty sketchy at almost three in the morning. Now would be the time to start worrying that he’s planning to murder me and stash my body in a freezer.
But I can’t think of anything other than the warmth burning through me at his hand on my back and the way my heart skips a beat at the contact.
We stop in front of the back door to the shop, and Hal punches in a code. The door unlocks with a disgruntled beep, and Hal pushes it inward. He gives me a smug smile before walking through and holding the door open for me.
I roll my eyes at him but can’t keep the grin off my face at his antics. “Why, exactly, do you have the code to open a random ice-cream shop? And won’t we get in trouble for stealing their ice cream?”
Hal leads us through the back of the shop toward the front. Our boots click on the checkered tile floor as we weave through the industrial equipment and massive freezers. I have the urge to look inside to see all the ice cream they’re storing, but I manage to resist.
When we reach a set of swinging pastel pink doors, Hal pushes one open. After he walks through, he holds it open for me to do the same. “We own it, so no, we won’t be in trouble.”
I glance around the interior that’s just as cute as the outside. Baby blue tables are ringed with light-pink-and-white-striped chairs. Blue-and-pink neon signs of ice cream decorate the walls, and the whole place smells like vanilla, cream, and sugar.
When I’m done inspecting the shop, Hal’s statement registers. I turn to him with my lips parted in shock. “Why do you own an ice-cream shop and a dealership? Aren’t you supposed to pick one type of business and stick with it?”
He laughs softly. “To make money. And it’s called diversifying our income. We own a ton of different businesses in Willow Bend and nearby towns.”
“So your… whole pack is well off?” I try to say it casually, like I’m not fishing for answers about what Hal and the rest of them are.
I’m not sure it works, because Hal flashes me an amused smile and shakes his head. “Something like that. Now, what flavors do you want?”
He gestures at the display freezer full of ice cream in front of us. Each container is covered, but the handwritten cards for all the flavors are still out.
I grin when I find my go-to ice cream. “Cake batter, please.”
“Anything else? I won’t charge you extra for picking multiple flavors, I promise,” Hal teases.
“I’m good. Cake batter is the best ice cream on the face of the planet, so what else could I possibly want?
” I’m not a huge dessert person, but I’m always down for ice cream, especially when it’s cake batter.
Something about stuffing cream and sugar with unbaked cake mix just does it for me, I guess.
He snorts. “See, I’ve never been a fan. There’s something off about it. I much prefer the classics, like vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Cone or cup?”
“Cone, please. And you just haven’t tried the right kind. There was an ice-cream shop near my school that my sister would take me to every chance she got. They put real yellow cake chunks in their cake batter ice cream, and it’s still one of the best things I’ve ever eaten.”
My heart squeezes in my chest thinking about those days, back when life was a little easier. Sure, our parents still sucked, but Wren and I had each other.
Now, I’m out from underneath my parents’ thumb, but I don’t have my big sister anymore. I’d give anything to still be stuck in that fucking house if it meant Wren were still here.
Hal slides open the display case door and opens the cake batter tub, breaking me out of my melancholy thoughts. He expertly starts scooping the ice cream into a cone as he asks, “Where ya from?”
I drop my gaze. “Not here.”
The three of us came to Willow Bend for a fresh start, and I want to keep my life today as far from the past as I can. I don’t want Hal to know where I grew up in case he starts digging into my old life.
Hal and the others are definitely involved in some illegal activities, if not organized crime. I wouldn’t be surprised if his pack or organization or whatever launders money through this cute ice-cream shop and the dealership we met at.
With his probably absurd amount of money and connections, he absolutely has the resources to find out everything about my past. If he does that, he could accidentally let Andrew know where I am.
And the last thing I need is my ex-fiancé finding me and trying to drag me back home. I can’t go back. I’d rather die than go back there.
He makes a humming noise but doesn’t push the issue further. After handing me my waffle cone overflowing with cake batter ice cream, Hal dishes himself up a scoop of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry.
With his hand on my back, he leads me back out of the little ice-cream shop and out onto the main street.
I give the creamy treat an experimental lick and moan softly at the smooth birthday cake flavor exploding over my tongue. It’s hard to find good cake batter ice cream, and this has to be one of the best I’ve ever had. Not the best, mind you, but pretty damn close.
Hal makes a strangled sound, and I look up at him in alarm. He ducks his head, but not before I see a flash of heat in his mint-green eyes. My own eyes widen in surprise before I brush it off. I must’ve been seeing things because there’s no way someone like Hal is interested in someone like me.
Clearing his throat, Hal’s voice is rough as he asks, “So, when did you move out here?”
And back to my least favorite topic—me.
Sighing, I look away from him and pretend to be fascinated with the historic architecture of downtown. “Six months ago.”
He’s silent for so long that I turn to look at him. That must’ve been what he was waiting for because he smiles down at me and asks, “Why’d you choose Willow Bend? Not that it’s not a great city, but it’s kind of random. Not really the place that most people choose to move to.”
I huff a laugh. “I didn’t choose it. My best friends did when I wasn’t in any shape to choose where to live. All I knew was I needed out of my hometown, and I didn’t care where I ended up, as long as it was far away.”
Hal’s eyes fill with sadness before he seems to shake it off. “You get to see your best friends much?”
“Yep, Charlie and Coop moved down here with me. We all lived together for a bit before I moved out.”
Charlie and Coop’s parents weren’t thrilled that I moved out.
Clara, Carson, Cameron, and Christopher Finch were more like parents to me than my own, and they saw me fall apart after everything happened.
While they were worried about me being on my own, they respected my choice and never tried to force me to do something I didn’t want.
Unlike my own parents.
I make sure to check in with Clara weekly so the four of them don’t worry too much.
Hal lets out a deep growl. I whip around to look at him in shock, but he looks perfectly normal. He’s just eating his ice-cream cone and looking around us like nothing happened.
He waits a beat before he pins me with his strangely serious gaze. “So, Coop. You known him long?”