Virgin (The Henchmen MC 16)

"Since when do you socialize with Henchmen?" Colson asked, and I would have sworn there was a hint of suspicion there, making my heart and belly sink to my feet.

My head started to fall before I forced it back up, my jaw getting tight.

"Oh, since I started selling illegal guns for them. This whole cooking thing is just a cover for my criminal activities. Once a criminal, always one, right?" I asked, bitterness dripping from my words, not even caring that we had an audience.

Virgin's brows lowered, looking confused, maybe a little angry as his gaze went to my brother.

"Christ, Winnie, that's not what I meant. You know that's not what I meant."

"It sounded like what you meant," I shot back.

"Alright," Virgin cut in. "I know this isn't my place, but maybe this isn't a discussion to be having right now. You're worked up," he added, looking at me.

"Yeah, come on, Win. Let me get you home. You're dead on your feet. And you have to be back here tomorrow."

"I'm taking my bike," I objected, jaw set to stubborn.

"No you're not," Colson said.

"Like hell," Virgin objected at the same time.

"I am a grown ass woman. If I want to ride my bike home at two a.m. naked, then I can do that. And you can't do anything about it."

"Come on," Virgin said, reaching for my bike's handlebars.

"What are you doing?" Colson asked, stiffening.

"I'll walk her back to the compound. Grab the SUV. Then drive her home."

"You're not getting to know where she lives."

"He already knows where I live," I shot back. Typically, I would be warmed by my brother's protectiveness. But I felt nothing but hurt and anger.

"Jesus, Winnie..."

"It's fine. Thanks for coming out anyway. But Virgin is taking me home. I will talk to you some other time."

"Winnie..."

"I'll make sure she gets home safe," Virgin assured him, making Colson's gaze move his way, sizing him up. Maybe I would have found myself feeling guilty for the way his shoulders slumped, his head ducked, but I was too annoyed right then to care as he turned, got back in his car, and drove home to his daughter. "You alright?" Virgin asked, voice quiet.

"He cut off contact with me," I admitted, eyes avoiding contact. "For a while. After I was locked up."

"Your brother loves you."

"Yeah, but I don't think he sees me the way he used to either," I told him, my breath sighing out of me, defeated.

"Sometimes our choices, our actions, do that to people around us. Or society. I don't expect everyone to look at me without suspicion when I am walking around with a one-percent badge on my chest."

"The difference being that you actually did... you know... never mind," I said, shaking my head, ripping the lock off my bike, tossing it into my bag. "You don't know my story," I told him with a rare surge of honesty. "So you can't explain my situation to me."

At his silence, I felt the regret course through me. Never having been someone who could be outwardly snippy or confrontational, the reality of being able to do so with him, this outlaw biker I barely knew from Adam, made uncertainty flood my system. My eyes slipped upward, finding him watching me with a gaze I could only call curious. Not offended. Not pissed. Just... interested.

"Maybe you'll tell me your story someday and I can understand," he suggested, reaching to grab my bike, turning to walk, leaving me to jog up a few steps so I wasn't following behind him like a puppy.

"Sorry I was snip..."

"Don't gotta apologize to me," he cut me off, shaking his head. "We all have our moments."

And he wasn't just saying that. He wasn't feeding me platitudes while passive-aggressively storing this away to use against me at some point down the road. Remember that time you were a complete bitch when I didn't even deserve it? No. He was just... okay with it.

They call me Virgin because I don't give a fuck.

That was what he said.

Meaning he was laid back. Easy going. A roll with the punches kind of person.

I couldn't imagine that kind of freedom.

I gave fucks. I gave all my fucks. About damn near everything. I couldn't claim it made me happier to be that way, but I wasn't sure it was possible not to be that way either.

Virgin led me back to the compound, loaded my bike into the back of the SUV, then opened my door for me. All in silence. Not seething, angry, or uncomfortable silence. Just silence.

He was not a silence filler.

I was used to Thad who was convinced every silence would be better filled with his voice. But I still found it enjoyable as he climbed into his seat, flicking on the butt warmer in my seat like he somehow knew after endless hours in a hot kitchen, the combination of dried sweat and tiredness was giving me a chill.