CHAPTER 20
STORM
When we get back to the table with our food, I shed my jacket, put it on the back of my chair, and slip into my cut.
I shouldn’t, but I pull out the chair next to me for Shadow. She gives me a surprised look before she takes her seat as I push it in. Several of the girls at our table watch wide-eyed, but when I glare, they look away.
The fuck am I doing? I have enough problems with Frost, who’s watching with interest. Still, I can’t shake the pull Shadow has on me. Like most bikers, Shadow has an edge, but there’s softness, too. Something that makes me want to be near her—to shield her.
Dimples takes the seat next to Shadow, leaving me with an empty chair beside me. Nobody will sit there without an invitation, except maybe Frost, but she’s already sitting.
Once seated, Shadow pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. I do a double take, not expecting her expressive dark brown eyes and thick lashes.
“Is there something wrong?” Shadow asks.
I want to tell her that she has beautiful eyes. Instead, I say, “You look different without your glasses.”
She grins and pulls her aviator glasses off her head. “Should I put them back on?”
What a loaded question. I’m not sure I’ll be able to focus on anything but her gorgeous eyes. “No! I mean, you look good. Nice.”
“Your eyes are beautiful,” Dimples says. “Aren’t they?” she says, looking at me.
I nod. “Uh, yeah.” I dip my fork into my baked beans, so I don’t have to say more.
During the first part of lunch, we make small talk—food, the weather, and motorcycles—until Dimples asks Shadow, “Are you married?”
“Divorced.”
“In a relationship?” Dimples asks.
The fuck. Could she be more obvious? It’s probably why she didn’t sit next to me, so I can’t kick her under the table.
“Single,” Shadow responds.
Her one-word answers and discomfort aren’t lost on me.
Dimples opens her mouth to say something else, but I interrupt. “You don’t have to answer her prying questions.”
“Sorry.” Shadow smiles and pushes her potato salad around on her plate. “It was an ugly divorce.”
“I’m sorry,” Dimples says. “When did he…uh—”
“She,” Shadow says.
My heartbeat quickens. I’m certain Dimples slipped in the question for me. She’s always been able to read me, and I know I’m gonna hear it when she gets me alone.
“How long has it been?”
Shadow puts down her fork, giving up the pretense of eating. “We separated a couple of years ago, but it was finalized early last year.”
“Are you ready to get back in the saddle?” Dimples asks.
I’m gonna kill her.
Shadow shrugs. “I’ve not given it much thought. Like I said, the divorce was ugly.”
Despite seeing only Shadow’s profile, I recognize the pain etched on her face. “Dude,” I say. “Leave her be. She’s trying to enjoy the run.”
Shadow turns to me and smiles. “It’s okay. She’s not doing anything wrong. It’s me. She’s right. After this much time, I should be further along.”
That’s baggage I don’t need. Which means I need to run. Fuck. What am I talking about? There’s nothing to run from—Thorns and Graces don’t mix. I take a big bite of my sandwich, and I’m surprised when Shadow puts her hand on my arm.
“It’s not like that,” Shadow says as if she read my mind. The fuck. Am I that transparent? “I’m not hung up on her or anything. She’s just made my life hell.”
On her admission, my protective side kicks into overdrive. “What’s she doing?”
Shadow glances around the table before her gaze returns to me. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this.” She twists her napkin between her hands as she speaks. “My ex is a divorce lawyer in Albany.”
“A barracuda?” Dimples asks.
“She makes a barracuda look like a dolphin,” Shadow answers.
My jaw tightens.
“She took my kids,” Shadow adds.
Anger bubbles inside of me as I struggle with what to say.
Dimples jumps in. “How many kids do you have?”
Shadow’s face lights up. “Two. Nora and Leah.”
“How old are they?” Dimples asks as I sit there like a mute moron.
“Nora is four and a half, and Leah is six.” Shadow reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out her phone. “This is them. It was Leah’s sixth birthday last month, and they helped me make cupcakes.”
I smile at the picture of two adorable little girls. The oldest has an intense expression as she holds up a spatula, while the younger one sports a carefree smile.
“They’re adorable,” I say. “They look like you.” Shit. Did I just call Shadow adorable? She is, but it’s not something I should say out loud.
Shadow puts the phone against her chest. “They’re my heart.” Sadness washes over her face. “But I don’t get to see them enough.” She glances down at her half-eaten plate of food. “Every other weekend, unless my ex can find a reason to keep them from me—she’s creative.”
“She keeps them from seeing you?” Dimples’ voice is loud, and several women sitting at our table glance our way. Dimples waves her hand at them. “Sorry, just ignore me.”
Everyone looks away, but Prospect One’s gaze lingers until she sees me noticing. Then, she shifts her attention to her plate.
Once everyone returns to their conversations, Shadow says, “Yeah, I’m lucky to see them once a month.”
“But can’t you get the courts to make her?” I ask.
Shadow shrugs. “In theory, but when she knows all the judges, and I don’t have a lawyer, it’s kinda hard. But I’m saving up. I’m not done fighting, but I have to be smart about it.”
Of course, earlier she’d mentioned she works at a nursing home, so I doubt she earns a lot.
Certainly not as much as her ex. I want to tell her I’ll lend her the money—give it to her.
Living at the clubhouse, I have few expenses, and the only money I spend is on my bike, but I don’t think she’d accept my offer, so I keep it to myself.
Besides, I’d sound like a crazy stalker offering money to someone I just met.
Hell, I’m feeling a bit like a crazy stalker, so I wouldn’t blame her.
“This wasn’t what I planned to talk about.” Shadow waves her hand. “I don’t need to burden you with my problems. Poker runs are for having fun.”
Dimples puts her hand on top of Shadow’s, and jealousy flares in my chest.
“We’re not trying to dampen your day, but thanks for sharing,” Dimples says. “If you ever need anything, the Thorns’ mission is to help. Especially women and kids.” Dimples must have noticed Shadow’s surprised expression since she says, “I know. Don’t be shocked. We—”
“Oh, god, I’m sorry.” Shadow puts her hand on top of Dimples’ hand. “I didn’t mean to imply…uh…”
Dimples smiles. “It’s all right. People who don’t know us sometimes get the wrong impression. Ask anyone around Cinder Ridge, and they’ll tell you what we bring to the community.”
There’s a question burning in Shadow’s eyes, but I see she’s wrestling with how to ask it, so I kick down the door.
“We ain’t one-percenters,” I say, staying away from the word outlaws.
“But we don’t always play nice like the Graces do.
We get results. The folks living in the Adirondacks are solid, hard-working people, but it’s tough up there.
They lost their industries, mining, logging, and manufacturing, so most of what’s left is tourism.
Young people have been escaping for a long time, looking for more opportunities, while the rich folks flock to Lake Placid and take over other areas.
The Thorns just help redistribute the wealth. That’s all. We don’t hurt anyone.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Dimples gaping at me. She’s gonna grill me about this. We don’t say these things to outsiders, but I don’t want Shadow thinking bad of us.
Shadow’s eyes show understanding, not judgment, and she finally nods. “I get that. After my divorce, I had to move north of Saratoga and farther away from my kids to find something I could afford.”
“Are they still in Saratoga?” Dimples asks.
“Nah. My ex sold our house and moved to Albany with the kids. When I moved up north, I had no clue she was planning on selling. I was only twenty minutes away, but now I’m more than an hour.”
“Why don’t you move closer?” I ask and regret it when I see the pain on Shadow’s face.
“I hope to when my lease is up.”
“Can’t you break it?” Dimples asks.
“If I want to lose my deposit and be on the hook for six months’ rent.” Shadow holds up her hand and shakes her head. “And before you ask. No, I didn’t receive anything from the house’s sale. Never marry a divorce lawyer.”
Dimples’ cheeks redden, and she says, “Couldn’t you—”
“Dimples,” I say, cutting her off. “Leave the poor woman alone. She’s not gonna want to eat lunch with us ever again.”
Shadow pats Dimples’ arm. “It’s okay, but Storm’s right. Can we talk about something more pleasant…like plagues or natural disasters?”
“Swarms of locust,” I add.
“Politics,” Dimples says.
Shadow laughs. “Gas station bathrooms.”
“Eww, now you’ve gone too far.” I crinkle my nose, and I’m rewarded with another laugh from Shadow.
“On that note.” Shadow places her hands on the table and pushes herself up. “Lunch is about over, and I see Wiz is gathering our team, so I better check where I’m needed.”
I nod toward her plate. “But you didn’t finish your meal.”
She looks down at it from her standing position. “I’m not hungry much anymore.” She slaps her hand against her jeans that fit her like a second skin. “But when I eat, it’s all the wrong things, so I’m not getting rid of this ass.”
I want to tell her that her ass is perfect, but I don’t.
“What?” Dimples says. “Some women would kill for a body like yours.”
I might not kill for it, but I’d love to get my hands on it. I know that’s not what Dimples meant, but I can’t help but grin at my thoughts.
Shadow shrugs. Her cheeks are red when she pulls her sunglasses off the top of her head and pushes them onto her nose. “Thanks for the pep talk. Seems like I need them a little more often lately, but I’ll figure it all out.”
“Ya don’t always have to figure it out on your own, you know?” Dimples says.
“Don’t you understand? That’s what shadows do.” She waves her hand in front of her face. “We never make waves, and then we disappear.”
Before Dimples or I can respond, she snatches her plate from the table and starts to slip away.
I don’t want her to leave, so I’ve gotta say something. Then it dawns on me. “Hey,” I call.
Shadow turns.
“I thought this was a poker run.”
She narrows her eyes. “It is.”
“Then don’t we get a poker card?”
Shadow stares at me for a beat before she slaps her hand against her forehead. “Shit. In the mad dash for food, we forgot to hand ’em out.” She points at me. “Hold tight. I’ll let Wiz know.”
She turns again, and this time, I stare at her shapely backside as she walks away, and I don’t even try to hide what I’m looking at.