CHAPTER 3
GRAYCIE
The look in Opal’s eyes when I open the door to my place has me worried. She’s up to something; it’s the glint in her eyes. She wants something from me and my gut is telling me that it’s going to be a big ask.
Her lips part and I start shaking my head, not needing her to say a damn word. The pout she gives me is epic and I almost laugh. Almost.
I point to her face and make a circular motion. “That’s not going to work on me, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Why, Graycie? I’m only 30,” she whines.
“Well, I’m just showing respect to my elder,” my voice is sickly sweet. The glare she gives me would have worked when I first moved to Dogwood Ridge, but I’ve found some of my strength again.
Not all of it, but enough. It feels like a fucking triumph.
“You’re only two years younger than me,” she deadpans.
With a shrug of my shoulder, I step out of her way and singsong, “Still counts.”
The look she gives me would probably make the bikers she works for, the ones she considers family, think twice about crossing her. But I’ve learned she’s all bark and no bite. I’m aware of when fear is required, but when it comes to Opal, there’s nothing to fear.
I expect Opal to sweep in and take her place on my couch, but that’s not what she does. She goes straight towards my bedroom like she’s on a mission.
“What’s going on? Where are you going?” I call out to her, but she doesn’t even turn around.
I’m forced to follow her into my bedroom. Which is where I find her standing while staring into my closet like it holds all the answers to life’s greatest mysteries. Trust me, it doesn’t. It also won’t take you to Naria; I’ve tried.
“What are you looking for in there?” I ask her while looking over her shoulder.
Opal jumps slightly as if she didn’t know I was right there. It’s not like I was quiet. I grin at her and she just huffs out a breath like rolling her eyes.
“I’m looking for something you can wear,” she says it like she’s answering all my questions. Far from it.
“As you can see,” I make a sweeping hand gesture to encompass my body, “I’m already dressed for the day. Why are you looking for something for me to wear?”
She looks at me and then her gaze travels down my body. The judgement written all over her face is justified considering I’m wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. What else should I be wearing on my day off? I’ve spent most of the day cleaning my apartment. Who am I impressing anyway?
“Yeah, you can’t wear that,” she says dismissively before looking back at my closet. She starts reaching for things and then glancing back at me. Her voice is light when she informs me, “I’m taking you to a family party at the clubhouse.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before telling her, “There is no way I’m going to a party at the clubhouse.”
“Yes,” she insists, “you are.” She starts holding up her fingers with every reason why I should go.
“You need to get out of the house more, and I don’t mean to go to work.
You can’t keep hiding. Family parties at the clubhouse are fun and the guys are on their best behavior.
I trust the club with my life, and I think you could too, if you gave them a chance.
I’m going and I want you to go with me.”
Her eyes plead with me while I try and think of any reason that I can give her to get me out of this. I’m grasping at straws though. When I realize I’m coming up with nothing, my shoulders drop.
Opal, knowing she’s won this round, does a little happy dance. Then clothes are hitting me and I’m barely able to clutch them to my chest before they drop to the floor.
“Great,” she chirps. “Get dressed. We leave in ten minutes. The guys have the grills going already and since spring seems to have taken pity on us today, we’ll be spending most of the day outside.”
Then she breezes out of my room, and I can’t help but shake my head at her, even though she can’t see me.
But I do get dressed and I allow her to shuffle me out the door and into her car.
During the drive she’s singing along to the radio, but I’m thinking about how much it would hurt if I opened the door and rolled my ass right out.
It’s probably not worth the trip to the hospital, but it’s tempting. Very fucking tempting.
I consider it again when we pull up to the gate of the Saint’s Outlaws MC clubhouse. I’ve driven by it before and I’ve heard a lot of stories about this place. I tried to ignore the rumors and the whispers about the club because I know those kinds of stories can be blown out of proportion.
The only fair way to assess anyone is by getting to know them. Even then, people can hide who they really are.
Like Sylvester.
I swallow hard and try to get my racing heart under control. I hardly look at whoever is at the gate to let us in. They didn’t come to the window considering they see Opal here all the time.
By the time we pull up near the front door, which is covered in the club’s logo like a warning before stepping into hell, my palms are clammy and I’m convinced I’m going to throw up.
“Graycie,” Opal snaps and I turn my head and look at her, but my vision starts to tunnel.
She claps in front of my face, and I rear back and suck in a sharp breath.
“That’s it. Snap out of it. Take deep breaths.
” She nods toward the warehouse and my gaze drifts back in that direction.
“There isn’t a place in this world where you will be safer.
The guys here are gruff and they sure as fuck can be crude and loud, but they have big, soft hearts and they respect women. ”
“I think there’s a story there about their mamas,” I try and tease her, but my words are flatter than I intend.
Opal is all smiles as she winks at me. “Exactly! If any of their mamas found out that they weren’t respectful of a woman, they’d get an ass whoopin’ for sure.”
“Good to know I can threaten them with something,” I grumble.
“No need to threaten,” her voice is far too bright, “most of their moms will be here today. Come on, you aren’t going to get less scared by sitting in the car.”
When I step out, my legs are shaky and fear tries to take me to the ground. But I force myself to stand a little taller.
Opal has told me a lot of stories about the club. Some were funny, some were sweet, and some were violent. But I found, when she told me about any violence the club committed, it was warranted.
Tell them about Sylvester.
I push the thought away because the last thing I want to do is get these guys involved with someone like him. If this club, which Opal clearly loves, was put in danger because of me, I don’t know what I’d do. Opal is the first real friend I’ve had in so long.
It’s not like I never had friends. I used to. Before. My life looked a lot different before.
Before I listened to my parents.
Before I let Sylvester in my life.
Before I was so damn weak that I gave him the power to rule my life and lost myself.
I blow out a breath, my voice small, as we approach the door, “How long do we have to stay?”
Opal freezes and turns toward me with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on her face. “We can leave whenever you want to leave. If someone makes you feel uncomfortable, I want to know about it. If you want to leave, tell me, but you have to really give it a try. Okay?”
She’s looking at me earnestly and, as much as I want to tell her to get me out of here now, I don’t have the heart. “Okay.” She’s looking at me with concern on her face but now is not the time for that. I grumble, “Might as well give me the five-cent tour.”
Opal giggles and pulls me into the clubhouse and I’m unable to put up much of a fight. There’d be no point even if I did; Opal was beyond determined today. Every other time she tried to get me to go to the clubhouse, I put my foot down and she respected it.
I knew my luck was running out.
Can I do this for my friend?
Fuck, I hope so.
My heart is pounding in my chest when we step inside. There are a few men in leather cuts, which is what Opal told me they’re called, but I barely look at them. I can feel them looking at me though.
When Opal grabs my hand, I practically jump out of my skin. “You’re safe,” she whispers, making sure I’m the only one who can hear her.
I think I nod, but I’m not entirely sure as she gives my hand a squeeze.
I almost cringe because I know that shit is wet.
She doesn’t say anything as she drags me through the large room which is clearly used for hanging out.
There are some couches, a bar, pool tables, a foosball table, and some standup arcade games.
Just before she reaches for a door which, presumably, leads to the backyard, Opal pauses and gives my hand a squeeze. When she looks at me, the seriousness in her eyes pulls me back from the edge I was teetering on between my past and my present.
I’ve been trying to stay in the now. Because not everyone is like Sylvester. I’ve been helped on this journey by so many people. The good in the world has found me when I needed it the most; it’s undeniable.
But that doesn’t always keep fear away.
“I don’t know what happened to you,” Opal’s voice pulls me back into the moment, “and you don’t have to share with me. But I know it was something bad. I know you’re running from something because of the way you sometimes look over your shoulder like you expect a demon to be nipping at your ass.”
My mouth falls open, surprised at the accuracy and the raw venom in her voice when she says demon. That’s exactly what he was. I snap it closed because I’m not ready to share that with her and especially not here.
“I’m only saying this because I want you to know I see you and how difficult this is for you.
You’re trusting me to not put you in a bad situation.
I don’t care what the people in this town sometimes whisper about this club, I know what it is.
” Opal’s eyes are filled with an intense sincerity, and it makes me wonder.