He couldn’t hide the hurt and it actually made me want to shake these people a little. Although, in theory, a little bit of fear put the best kind of separation between the town and the Vipers. Best for both, because enemies could easily use that relationship against Vipers. Anything that left the MC vulnerable wasn’t good, and so pretending to only give a shit about their interests protected the town from all the things that went roar in the night.

I dropped the subject and we ate. Talked about Eli and school, and his art.

“Cage showed me some of his stuff. The boy’s good,” Preacher said.

“He should go to art school.”

“We don’t have that around here.”

They did in New York. That made me think about my father, and the fact that I hadn’t been in touch with him. I felt guilty about it, but the investigation surrounding Ned’s murder was ongoing. At least it was the last time I’d called to check, because no matter how much I couldn’t stand him, I couldn’t let him be buried in a pauper’s grave. “Do you think Officer Flores contacted my father?”

Preacher nodded. “And I’m sure he knows exactly where you are.”

“You think so?”

“If you were my daughter and I heard you were hanging around an MC, I’d know.”

The thought of Preacher with a daughter made me smile—I couldn’t help it. Because the idea of a wild guy saddled with a daughter to worry about was some kind of sweet revenge.

“I know what you’re thinking, Calla,” he chided. We finished lunch uneventfully and then we got back into his truck.

When I saw we were heading toward the clubhouse, I must’ve tensed.

“Cage told me you have a rough time coming here,” he said. “It’s quiet now. I need your help.”

I didn’t ask why, just nodded, because certainly they’d helped me. Granted, they’d almost gotten me killed too. But once we were inside the clubhouse and I saw it was quiet, I relaxed slightly, until Preacher pointed down the hall and said, “I can’t get through to Holly.”

“You think I can?”

“I think she won’t be able to resist being a bitch to you, no.”

“And that’s a good thing?”

“Better than zoning out and crying, yes,” he said firmly, pointing. I walked down the hall with only slightly less enthusiasm than if I’d been going to the electric chair.

I knocked on the half-open door and saw Holly lying on her side. As soon as she glanced up and saw it was me, she straightened, propped herself on the pillow.

Even with no makeup and with messy hair, she managed to look haughty. And I didn’t even have to say anything before she started in.

“What, none of them could get through to me, so they figured, send in the rich girl?” Holly asked. She was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, her leg still bandaged, and her gaze flickered over me for a brief second before turning back to the TV. She was changing channels incessantly.

Finally I said, “I’m not a rich girl.”

She turned the TV off and stared at me. “I’m sure Cage told you how I came here.”

“A little.”

“Well, let me explain it, Calla, so you can understand the difference between you and me. Because I don’t want you to become deluded into thinking we could be friends.”

I crossed my arms, leaned against the wall without saying a word.

She continued. “I fell in love with an American when I came here on vacation with some friends.”

I wanted to say, “You had friends?” but I didn’t. She smirked, like she knew what I was thinking, then went on. “I was eighteen and Mickey was thirty-five. He said he’d take care of me, and he did. I never went back, told my family good-bye and moved in with him. He was part of the No’Ones. They’re based out of Tallahassee. And we were together for ten years. One day, the MC members came in and cornered me in our shop, the one Mickey and I bought together. I didn’t know it was mortgaged under the club’s name, so really neither Mickey nor I had any rights to it. And the president of the club demanded to know where Mickey was. I’d thought he’d gone to the gym, but I knew something was very wrong. I tried to get in touch with him, to warn him, but no luck. They tied me up, waited for him to show, and then they bashed his head in with a baseball bat while I watched. They untied me, told me to get out, and here I am.”

She sucked in a breath and I struggled to do so as well. There had to be more to the story, but I wasn’t about to push. She was telling me this for shock value, but to what end? “I’m sorry, Holly. I can’t imagine.”

“Of course you couldn’t.”

“You’re still going to be a complete bitch to me?”

“You got my shop shut down. I had to come in and save you because you got sentimental and let your lover’s brother inside. He’s a Heathen, Calla. The same MC trying to kill Cage and you. Fucking daft, you are. Go back and play with your rich friends before you get this MC in big trouble.”

“Mickey got killed for something you did,” I said now.

She blinked. “What did you say?”

“A guilty conscience always recognizes another.” I walked out, although I couldn’t be smug about it, because I’d hated the look on her face. I’d been right. And whether or not Holly was someone the MC should trust wasn’t entirely up to me.

Preacher had heard the entire thing. I didn’t like the look in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word when he drove me home and walked me up to the apartment. When Cage opened the door, all Preacher said was, “Thanks for talking to her,” and walked away.

“What was that about?” Cage asked.

“I don’t think you want to know.”

* * *

Cage had managed to get Eli a tutor, and he was in Rocco’s apartment with her now, so Rocco could supervise. I told Cage about my lunch with Preacher and a little of what happened with Holly.

“Did you ask Preacher to take me to lunch?”

“You couldn’t go anywhere on your own.”

“Ever?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Okay, good.”

“But for a long time. And you can only go where you’ll be supervised by club guys.”

“What?”

“Did you think you could just stroll around and go shopping?”

Honestly, I hadn’t given it any thought at all. My future was all a big, yawning abyss and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do or feel. “For how long? And don’t say, ‘For as long as it takes.’”

To his credit, he didn’t say it, but just pointed at me when I said it.

I threw my hands in the air and turned my back. I should be grateful, not frustrated to the point of tears, which would spill down my cheeks soon if I didn’t pull it together. I bit it back because, with or without Cage, I’d be in a lot of trouble. Without him, I’d have no place to go.

“Calla.” His voice rough to my ears, and his hands rough to my skin. I couldn’t stay angry at him. And that was the problem.

“I need to know there’s an end point.”

“I’m trying to get us there.”

I knew that Flores was trying to bring trouble down on me and the MC because of Ned. I knew that. I also knew too much about the Heathens. But I couldn’t stay caged forever. “You have to let me do something. I don’t have any money of my own. I’m a burden to you.”

“This is my fault. And you’re not a burden.”

“Maybe it is your fault, but I’m not used to being taken care of.”

“Get used to it,” he growled.

“No,” I told him. “Don’t get all sexy and possessive and ruin what I’m trying to say.”

“Sexy and possessive, huh?”

“Don’t,” I warned.

“I’m listening.”

“I have to at least make my own money. That’s important to me.”

“I’m not keeping you with me out of guilt, Calla. If that was the case, you wouldn’t be sharing my bed. But the other stuff, I get that. It won’t be forever that you’re hiding, but I can get you a temporary ID. Actually, it’s good for you to have something.”

“No.”

“No? Jesus, women are fucking confusing.”

That gave me a momentary grin. “I think it’s time I just used my own ID. My own money. Because isn’t it better that way? The more it’s out there—”

“The more questions you’ll get. The more the Heathens will know about you.”

“Like they don’t already.”

“Fuck.” He ran his hands through his hair as he paced. I thought about how I’d grabbed his hair the night before when he was between my legs. He caught the tail end of my expression, even though I tried to school it and smiled. “I swear, you think about sex as much as I do.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Not at all, babe. What is a bad thing is thinking you can go up against the Heathens and win. They don’t value life, especially female life. This isn’t like going up against the law. I’ve got to fight like with like, or this won’t work.”

I buried my head against his chest. “I don’t play the rescued-princess role well. The fact that you tracked my phone—”

“Not changing that,” he said stubbornly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t found a way to plant a tracking device on me. Wait—” I stared at his smirk.

“Maybe you’ll need to strip to find out?”

“Nice try.” But he didn’t have to try . . .

“How about the bar? Amelia’s already said she’d be happy to take you on.”

I wore an armful of bracelets from that very first night I’d met her. “Thanks, Cage. I’m just . . . trying to find out who I am.”

“Take your time finding that out.”

“Are you?”

“Every damned day, baby,” he told me. And he was serious. Completely.

And that afternoon, Amelia showed me the ropes in the bar while Cage and Preacher played pool. As evening rolled around, it got more crowded.