Chapter Four #2
further, if any form of alcohol was available, making “company” into a party.
But I was watching Joker and Travis, the former of whom had
shifted to look out the windowed front door, the latter of whom was bouncing on
his biker’s hip, clapping clumsily and squealing, “Hi-ha-hi-ha-hi-ha!”
This was explained when Joker shifted further, getting out
of the way of the door just in time for me to see High, another Chaos brother
(this one I knew) reaching out to open it. He then came through it trailed by a
curvy brunette in a fabulous sweater dress that made me decide I needed a
sweater dress (or seven), even more fabulous high-heeled boots, and a
gorgeously tailored long wool coat.
I was stunned speechless due to the fact High was carrying
an enormous white and black striped bag with tufts of red tissue paper coming
out of the top of it.
One of my favorite sights in all the world…carried in by a
burly biker.
A Sephora bag.
With reaching arms, Travis grunted his desire to be turned
over to High.
With easy expertise, High took the toddler at the same time
he kept hold of whatever heaven was in that black and white striped bag.
“Oh no,” the brunette said through this. “We’re too late to
leave our surprise for you.”
“Rosalie,” High rumbled.
“Hey, High,” I greeted. “This is my mom, Renae.”
He dipped his chin to Mom and she said, “Hey.”
He then grunted, “My woman, Millie.”
How long had it been since Neanderthal times?
A week?
“Hey there,” Millie called.
Mom and I said our return heys.
“Gonna put this shit in the
kitchen,” Joker mumbled.
“Carson!” for some reason Carissa snapped, walking toward my
coffee table to put down the vase but doing it glaring at her man.
He looked down at the child High was carrying while still
moving toward the kitchen.
“Do you know what ‘shit’ means?” he asked.
“Goo-dee-la-la-kee-la-gee-jah,” the kid answered.
Joker looked to Carissa. “That means no.”
Carissa turned to Millie and rolled her eyes.
Mom started giggling again.
“How you doin’?” High boomed and
suddenly the slightly warm, slightly awkward impromptu welcome wagon party
changed to just awkward.
“I’m good, High, thanks,” I replied.
His eyes narrowed on my face, taking in the still-angry
marks on my brow and jaw and the still-taped nose and he gave clear indication
he did not agree with my assessment.
“Let’s drink wine,” my mother suggested. “Did you girls
bring Rosalie’s wineglasses over?”
“Of course. We took everything but the asshole’s stuff,”
Millie declared then said quickly toward Carissa, “I mean, the a-hole’s stuff.”
She turned back to me as she got close to her man and took
the Sephora bag from him.
And it was just what I didn’t want to know about
Chaos. Precisely the fact that the brothers in it wouldn’t even allow their
women to carry Sephora bags, even big ones like that.
Once she’d nabbed it, she lifted it up my way and said, “We
girls got together and got you a bunch of housewarming goodies. Have you tried
the Moroccanoil line?”
And there it was.
Indication that the old ladies in Chaos understood what
“housewarming” meant and it didn’t have to do with buying someone a plant.
“No,” I told her.
“Oh my God,” she rhapsodized. “It’s amazing.
We got you the body gel and the body soufflé and the shimmering body oil. Then
we got you the Fresh sugar face polish and rose face mask and hydration cream
in case you want to do a facial. It’s sublime. And—”
“Babe, just hand her the bag,” High interrupted, having
straightened from putting Travis on the floor.
Her head swung High’s direction and she gave him a pointy
look. “Don’t interrupt me while I’m talking about Sephora purchases,” she
snapped.
High totally ignored her, but did it appearing faintly
amused, and looked to me. “You in or you got shit you need to carry in?”
“We just did the walk through so—” I started.
“Right, keys,” he ordered, lifting a hand toward me.
“Still got groceries out there,” Joker muttered, strolling
through the living room toward the front door, glancing down at the baby who
was hightailing it to the kitchen, diapered booty wriggling, likely to crawl
around the kitchen like he’d do at any trusted friend’s house.
Oh man.
“I’ll get Rosie’s stuff upstairs then help you, Joke,” High
muttered back as I grabbed my car keys from where I’d tossed them on a table
they’d put by the door (that used to be in my foyer in my apartment, but looked
so much better by that door) and gave them to High.
“Think I can get it all with this go,” Joker replied.
He thought?
How many groceries did they buy me?
High took off after Joker before I could ask.
Millie handed me the Sephora bag and prompted on a big
smile, “Dig in. Hope you enjoy,” before she moved toward the kitchen, Carissa,
and rustling grocery bags.
“Gee, tee, dee, la?” Travis asked, and I looked that way to
see Mom somehow had hold of him and he was asking her questions.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “But wanna
go see the office space?”
“Dee la!” he agreed enthusiastically.
Watching her wander off with Travis, my heart started
hurting again.
“Isn’t this place so neat?” Carissa called from the kitchen.
“Joker told me that Snapper did the whole design for the reno, though I think
that he asked Tyra to help with the fittings. She told me about the awesome tub
upstairs and when I saw it the other day when we were moving you in, I swear, I
almost ordered everyone out so I could take a bath.”
“I have the coolest house on the planet but after I saw that
tub, I told Logan we’re yanking out ours and getting a soaking one,” Millie
said.
I watched them putting away groceries.
Then I got out of the path of Joker bringing more in and
High carrying my suitcases upstairs.
Mom wandered back in, carrying on a full-blown conversation
with Travis.
“Is there any special place you want the bread, Rosalie?”
Carissa called and I started out of the frozen trance I seemed to have fallen
into.
“I should help you,” I replied, beginning to move that way.
“No,” Millie denied. “Take a load off and go through your
Sephora stash.”
“Can I take Travis upstairs?” Mom asked Carissa. “Give him
the full tour.”
“He was here when we moved Rosalie in, but he loved it
upstairs, so absolutely,” Carissa answered.
I felt the strings of the Sephora bag I was holding give way
from my fingers and I turned to see a returned High setting it on the table by
the door.
“Need a word, darlin’,” he said.
I looked up at him and nodded.
He put a hand to the small of my back and oddly led me down
the hall-type area to the French doors to the courtyard.
Once there, he led me out of them.
It was Denver. It was February. It could be below freezing.
There could be a blizzard.
Or it could be like it was that day. Fifty-three degrees.
I still shivered a little bit when High closed the door on
us, giving us privacy.
I wasn’t sure what was happening out in the courtyard with
High.
What I was sure of was that I was freaking out.
Snapper owned this crazy-awesome little house.
He’d also apparently fixed it up before he’d had it painted
prior to moving me in.
Further, he’d bought me a bed.
But my furniture looked awesome there, like it was bought to
be just there.
Not to mention his family had not only moved me in, they got
me groceries and a Sephora bag full of happy surprises.
After my father died, I had been looking for something that
he’d given me all my life and it wasn’t just the stability of his love and
pride.
It was his capacity to judge a person’s character and his
utter refusal to allow anyone in his life, or his girls’ lives, who he didn’t
deem deserved their place there.
He’d been devastated when, back in the day, Chaos had gone
from running a garage and growing and selling (then illegal) pot to
transporting drugs and firearms through town and pimping women.
He’d been thrilled when the Club had ousted Crank, someone
Dad had always hated (and he wasn’t a hater, if he didn’t like you, he just
didn’t like you, he didn’t detest you—but he’d detested Crank) and Tack had
taken his place and cleaned up the Club.
And now here this all was, in my new house where I hadn’t
even sat my ass down on the couch. Goodness, the kind that Dad had always given
me, and more, Dad would always want for me.
Goodness that it was now Snapper who was giving it to me.
“Rosalie,” High called my attention to him.
“Yeah?” I asked absently.
He was watching me closely. “You good?”
I shook my head, not in the negative, to pull myself
together. “Yes, yeah. I…it’s just that a lot is happening.”
“Then I’ll get this over with, get you inside so you can
have a drink, get warm and start settlin’ in.”
Okay, now I was focused on why High and I were weirdly out
in the courtyard for privacy.
“Uh…” I mumbled.
“It was me,” he stated. “Snap wanted on you. He wanted to
meet face to face. I fucked up. Made a piss-poor call. I was worried that he
was meetin’ face to face with you because he was into
you, which he was and is, but you had a man so I thought he’d get his heart
broke. I also worried that Bounty was entering territory they weren’t used to dealin’ with. I provided security back in the day when
Chaos did stupid shit, and when I did, I’d keep an eye on everything. Even old
ladies. I thought he’d get caught with you or someone would see you together
and inform on you, and I thought you’d be safer, communications were not in
person, but he’d also be safer, not fallin’ deeper
into it spending time with you.”
I had to admit, it was good to know why that had happened.
And I didn’t want to admit, but I had to do it, that having
High confirm what Snapper had already made very clear, that he’d been into me a
long time, was more than good.
But now that I knew why, and the why was that why, it didn’t
matter.
More, I didn’t like the idea that these guys were kicking
themselves about something that, bottom line, wasn’t their fault.