Chapter 4
FOUR
Dakota
Leaning closer to the mirror, I blended out the dab of concealer beneath my bottom lip to hide the bruise that had formed there.
I thought I’d trained the tears away, but apparently they’d only gone dormant, springing back to life the instant I drove over the Ashland town limits.
I’d practically gnawed on my poor lip to keep them at bay.
If I didn’t find a healthier way to deal with my emotions, I was going to cause permanent damage.
The dark circles under my eyes weren’t so easy to hide.
I spent most of the past two days at the hospital, sitting in a statically charged room with a practical stranger because of some inexplicable need to make sure he was okay no matter how badly he’d hurt me in the past.
Everything I felt for years, the resentment and animosity, was closer to the surface than it had been in a very long time, and having to force it down was draining.
I could feel it stirring within me. It all needed to come out, but I couldn’t bring myself to start the conversation we needed to have while Ezra was laid up in the hospital.
I caught a few sporadic hours of sleep in the sorry excuse for a recliner the hospital provided, dozing off and on while Ezra slept, because if he caught me he’d try to kick me out, insisting I needed to take care of myself more than him.
The hospital had been blessedly free of bikers, but I had a feeling that was only because, after my run-in with Pope, he’d ordered them to give me a few days.
I was sure the reprieve would be ending soon.
If I wasn’t at the hospital, I was catching a bit of restless sleep in the room I was renting in Redemption. Redbud Inn was a great little B&B one town over—close enough that it was still familiar to me while being far enough from the past to keep it from swallowing me whole.
Despite the bed being so soft it felt like I was lying in a cloud, I spent both nights tossing and turning, dreams from the life I left behind invading my sleep.
I woke up before the sun this morning and sat by the window with a cup of coffee from the pod brewer provided in the room, watching it slowly rise over the Smokies.
My brain was telling me to get up and get ready to head back to the hospital.
Wash, rinse, repeat. However, my body refused to listen.
That weariness in my bones was dragging me down.
I left the inn an hour later than the day before, and even though I had every intention of heading straight to the hospital, my hands turned the wheel in the opposite direction.
I drove aimlessly, the scenery becoming more and more familiar as I reached Ashland.
Al’s Diner was still where it had been since before I was born, the sign announcing they carried the best pies still tucked in the front window.
I let out a smile as I remembered all the times I’d come in for a slice of pecan or apple with cheddar. They really did have the best pie.
There was no shortage of bars in and around Ashland, which made sense considering most of the area catered heavily to bikers, and I was glad to see Toni’s Tavern was still standing. That had been a favorite among most of the Wraiths back when I still lived there.
I hadn’t been old enough to go inside back then, of course, but there had been a couple times when Roe snuck me in.
He drew the line at letting me drink, being the kind of boyfriend who took protective to the next level, but that didn’t mean we hadn’t had a blast necking in a back booth until we were both so turned on we didn’t stand a chance of making it to a bed.
Sure, there was a lot of new, but so much of what I remembered remained that there were memories everywhere.
Good and bad. What surprised me the most was that the good memories no longer hurt as badly as the terrible ones.
For the longest time after I left I had to cling to all the ugly.
I thought that was still the case. Until that very moment.
That realization lifted at least part of the massive weight that had taken up permanent residence on my chest so long ago.
The need for caffeine had become a steady beat in my temples, so when a cute coffee shop called Daily Grind came into sight, I immediately turned into the parking lot.
I stepped up to the end of the short line and scanned the chalkboard menu hanging above the front counter.
I gave the barista a smile as I ordered a maple latte and an almond croissant.
I was just thinking about trying an almond croissant recipe of my own for social media when I heard an unfamiliar voice call my name.
I turned and saw a beautiful woman with hair only a couple shades lighter than Roe’s pitch-black waving in my direction, a friendly smile on her face.
She looked familiar for some reason but I couldn’t figure out where from. “Uh, hi . . .”
“Sorry, this probably seems weird, huh? Some random woman calling your name. I’m not a weirdo, I swear. I’m Pope’s girlfriend.”
Recognition dawned.
“That’s right. You were at the hospital with him.
I remember now.” Pope had obviously told her who I was, I just didn’t know how much of that story he shared.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if I was hated by that entire club.
They probably thought that I was the bad guy for leaving Roe and my father behind without a word for sixteen years.
But the way she was smiling at me told me otherwise.
“Yeah. That’s me. I’m Lennon.” She held her hand out, and I paused for a single beat before reaching up to take it. The whole interaction felt surreal.
“It’s nice to meet you. Officially.”
“You too.” She hiked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m actually here with a couple friends. Would you like to join us?”
“Oh, uh . . .” I glanced over at the other two women sitting at her table. They both waved as soon as we locked eyes, their smiles so warm and welcoming that, despite Lennon’s direct link to the Wraiths, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.
“I know you’ve basically been sleeping at the hospital every free moment you have,” she said as if sensing my momentary hesitation. “It would do you some good to take a little break.”
The urge to return her grin was surprising, but I leaned into it. “You’re right. A little break won’t hurt anything, right?”
“Exactly. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”
I grabbed my drink and croissant and followed after her, taking the empty seat beside her. “Guys, this is Dakota Riley. Dakota, these are my friends Phoebe and Iris.”
“Hi. It’s nice to meet you both.”
“You too.” Sympathy creased the skin between Iris’s crimson brows. “We heard about your father. We’re really sorry.”
“Thanks. He’s improving, so that’s a big relief.”
Lennon arched a single brow, and I noticed then that her dark hair and green eyes made her look like Snow White. “Yeah, but what about you?”
“I’m okay,” I said, giving the only answer I was willing to give complete strangers. The truth was, I felt stalled. Unsettled. “I think I just need to get a bit of my old routine back. Get back to work.”
“What do you do?”
“I post cooking videos online,” I shared. “It sounds lame to call myself a cooking influencer, but that’s basically what it is.”
Penelope pulled in a gasp, her mouth dropping open. “Oh my god. You’re the Foodie Bee.”
When I was trying to come up with a name for my online presence, that was the one my brain kept going back to over and over. It was the tiniest part of my old life that I wanted to keep hold of. A subtle nod to honey bee.
My smile returned. “Yeah. Have you seen some of my videos?”
“Some of them? Are you kidding me? Try all of them. I follow you on all the socials as well as your Substack and YouTube channel. I think one of the only reasons my husband doesn’t drive me crazy is because he’s worried I’ll stop cooking for him. I have your recipes to thank for that.”
I let out a laugh, and just like that, the pressure in my chest started to loosen.
It was always fun running into people who enjoyed my recipes and content.
Through my whole broken relationship with Adam, the one good thing I had was cooking.
It kept me sane and grounded until I was able to get out.
“I love to hear that. I’m happy to have contributed to a happy marriage.” Lord knew it was the closest I’d ever gotten to one of my own. “I’ve missed it.” I hadn’t been in a kitchen since I packed up and left Adam’s house. It felt unnatural not cooking every single day.
“Where are you staying?” Iris asked. “Is there a kitchen setup you could work in?”
“I’m at the Redbud Inn over in Redemption. The rooms are incredible, but they weren’t set up with anything other than a hotplate and a microwave.”
Lennon twisted toward me. “I don’t know how long you’re planning on staying, but I’ve recently moved in with Pope and my old place is sitting empty.”
Iris waved an excited finger at Lennon. “Oh, that’s such a good idea! I’m a realtor. I actually sold Lennon’s place to her. The cutest little bungalow on a beautiful street.”
“And the neighbors are the best,” Lennon added, trying to seal the deal. “That alone made me sad to leave, but Pope’s place is bigger, and it’s closer to the middle school, so it just made sense.”
“You’re a middle school teacher?” I asked, swallowing down my bewilderment.
I’d grown up around bikers, so I was familiar with the type of woman most of them attracted.
My mother was one of those women. The ones who were a little rougher around the edges and a lot wilder.
Women who loved riding as much as their men did.