Passing the Torch (Devil's Knights 2nd Generation 1)

I ushered both of them into the kitchen and grabbed the bagels from her hand. “What am I doing?” I demanded. “What in the world are you doing? You guys never stop by without letting me know you’re coming.”

Mom rolled her eyes and grabbed the bagels back. “We called. You didn’t answer.”

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Dad grunted.

“I was sleeping,” I hissed. I had woken up in the twilight zone. Hero in my bed and my parents on my doorstep was not what I had wanted when I said a mellow day.

“Since when do you sleep in?” Dad grumbled.

Mom grabbed the eggs from the fridge. “Brain. She can sleep in if she wants. Maybe she had a long night.”

Oh. My. God. Did my mom just hint that I had a long night because…I couldn’t even put Mom and sex in the same thought.

She reached into the freezer and grabbed the pack of bacon I was going to use for the bacon sandwiches Hero had told me he wanted.

“Shirley,” Dad grunted, “I am going to pretend that you did not just say that.”

Even Dad wasn’t good with what Mom was insinuating.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“Is that his bike out there?” Dad asked, completely ignoring my question. “Does he have a helmet?”

I closed my eyes and prayed to get a grip on the spiraling conversation. “Yes, Dad, that is his bike. He has a helmet.”

“Got that MC emblem on it. He part of the club?”

How had he noticed that? I didn’t even know that Hero had an emblem on his bike for the club.

“Yes, sir.” Hero walked into the kitchen with his shirt on and his hair tamed. He held his hand out to Dad. “Sorry about before, sir. Reva and I weren’t expecting company.”

Dad shook his hand but eyed him warily. “Brian,” he grunted. “How long have you been with the club?”

“Uh, officially? Since I was eighteen. I grew up there, though. My dad is Rigid.”

Recognition shone in Dad’s eyes. “Ah, I’ve known Rigid for a while. He’s worked on my truck before.”

Wait, what? My dad knew Rigid?

“He’s a pretty good mechanic, sir. Also damn good at painting.”

Dad laughed. “That I know, too. Shirley scraped the side of her car last year and he was able to match the paint perfectly.”

My jaw dropped. Hero’s dad had been the one to repair mom’s car after she ran into the mailbox?

“Tan Cadillac?” Hero asked.

“Why yes,” Mom gasped, “how did you know?”

Hero ran his fingers through his hair, and I swear to God, he blushed! “Uh, I helped him out. Most of his repairs, I help with.”

My jaw hit the floor. Hero knew how to fix cars and stuff? My parents were finding out more about Hero in five minutes than I knew in six days.

I held up a finger. “Could you just excuse us for a second?” I grabbed Hero’s hand and pulled him down the hall and into my bedroom. I closed the door and stood toe-to-toe with him.

“What?” I whisper shouted. I needed to elaborate more. “What is going on? You work at the repair shop?” There. That was better than just what.

“Sometimes,” he shrugged. “With Dad gone, I’ve got other things I’m in charge of now.”