Her Older Biker - Page 10

The blonde chuckles. “I was sore for days after our first time.”

Ihatethis—these women are trying to bait me. My body buzzes with anxiety as I consider their words. I never thought I wascompetingwith anyone for Warden’s attentions.

“You’re just messing with me,” I say flatly. “Warden’s not like that.”

They exchange knowing looks.

“Honey,” the dark-haired one says, her tone laced with poisonous gentleness. “Warden is legendary in this club for fuckingallthe sluts who weren’t tied down. He’s ruled by his dick, and everyone knows it.”

“He’s got a birthmark on his ass,” the blonde one says flatly. “Next time he drops his pants with you, take a look. It’s heart-shaped.”

“The birthmark, not the ass,” the other one says, and they both laugh obnoxiously.

Whatever they wanted to achieve, they seem to have done it, and they wander away, chatting together, their dirty work done. I just sit in the bar stool, stunned and dejected, and that’s how Caroline finds me a few minutes later.

“What’s eatin’ you?” she asks as she plops back in her stool, a fresh cup of coffee in her hand. “You look like somebody kicked you.”

“Is it true about Warden and all the club girls?” I ask. My voice sounds impossibly small, and I hate it. “That he fucked them all?”

Caroline winces. “Sammie and Wendy got to you, didn’t they? Those two are just jealous.” She sets her cup down on the bar and turns to me, grabbing my hands in hers. “Listen, kiddo. I love my son like crazy, but I know exactly who he is and who he was. Hewasa shameless horndog for a long time and boned his way across four states. Heisa man who has grown beyond that time in his life and looks at you like he never looked at any of the sweet butts. Those bitches are ancient history. Years ago. Right now is all you.”

Caroline’s words filter into my troubled brain, and even though I understand what she says—what she’s trying to communicate to me—my aching heart, ravaged by years of loneliness and my constant longing for someplace to belong, has had enough.

I want Warden, but Idon’twant to spend my time around people who constantly try to beat me down. To make me feel likeless. Because eventually, my defenses will crumble, and I’ll start to believe the things they say.

I nod my understanding at Caroline, but I can tell that she knows I’m still upset. Warden’s absence stretches on, through the day and into the evening. I start my shift at the bar and every time the door opens, I spin around, hoping to see Warden, but dreading his arrival, too.

At midnight, the Raging Angels still aren’t back, and I make a decision.

“Let’s empty this out,” Caroline says, counting a thick stack of bills out of the tip jar. I add it to the wad of cash in my apron as I do some quick mental math. After three shifts at Saint C’s, I have about four hundred dollars in cash. A tank of gas to get to the next town, some modest meals and maybe a motel room to shower and get some sleep, and I can make it work if I get a job as a server or something right away.

“Thanks for everything, Caroline,” I say. I stuff the cash into my purse and untie my apron, tucking it behind the counter.

She raises an eyebrow. “Going somewhere? We don’t close for a couple more hours. And the guys aren’t even back yet.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and summon all the courage I have—Caroline deserves my honesty, after everything she did. “It’s time for me to move on, I think,” I say softly. “I don’t think I fit here at Saint C’s.”

“I disagree,” Caroline says mildly. “But you’re an adult and you need to make your own choices. Are you sure I can’t talk you into staying another few days? Maybe talk to Warden before you leave?”

I shake my head and brush away a tear. “No, I don’t think so.” My voice fades to a bare whisper, and I know I have to get out of here, before I break down in front of Caroline—in front of all the sweet butts and old ladies lounging at the tables—and change my mind. “You’re a good person, Caroline. Thank you for everything.”

I don’t wait for her to respond. As quickly as I can, I walk out of the bar, gather my things from the apartment and get back into my ratty little car. The only car on the road at this time of night.

And then I’m gone.

Chapter 6

Warden

What a night.

What a fuckingnight.

The Raging Angels roar back into the parking lot just after midnight. We narrowly avoided a major brawl with the Oakwood City Devils after one of their prospects broke into a Raging Angels business, and it took hours of tense negotiations to settle the score. The Devils prospect got his ass kicked to the curb and their prez had to pony up major cash to pay for the property damage. But it worked out fine in the end.

I should be exhausted, but I want my woman so badly that I feel my desire twitching under my skin like a live wire. My brothers stream into the bar behind me and the sweet butts and old ladies swarm them, exuberant with relief. The bar was quiet with the brothers gone for the evening, but the party starts up again, with loud music and the clack of pool cues filling the air.

But when I head to the bar to find Emma, I only see one person—Mom, carefully wiping off liquor bottles and fiddling with already-clean glassware. There’s a grim expression on her face.