I’ll be her push.
Heading out of the room, the smell of coffee and cigarettes hits me and I take a deep breath. I feel like I’ve been in that room for a month. Sitting next to Bobby, who’s freshly shaven and cut looking cleaner than the last time I saw him.
“Coffee, babe?” Dani asks, stepping up behind the counter with a pot of hot brew.
“If you don’t mind.” I tip my head in thanks, something we do in the south to show our appreciation.
Turning, she grabs a white coffee mug and sets it in front of me. I can’t help but look her up and down as she pours me a cup. Her eyes match Delilah’s as well as her dark hair too.
She sighs and turns to put the pot back on the burner.
“Still haven’t seen him?” Bobby asks and I frown.
“Seen who?” Blowing on my coffee, I look between them both.
“Shadow, since the shit that went down with you guys, I haven’t seen him.” She shakes her head, her voice thick with emotion.
Shit, Delilah hasn’t told me that, or does she not know.
“He just needs to cool off,” Bobby says, cracking his knuckles. “I don’t think he thought you’d make it across that glass and you skipping through like it was nothing was a kick to the nuts, I’m sure.”
I nearly drop the cup of coffee.
“Skipping? Did you see my fucking feet?” Anger rises in my voice and I instantly feel hot. It was not easy walking across broken fucking glass.
“I’m just sayin’!” Bobby holds one hand up as if to calm me down, but I’m about to bash this fucking cup into his head and see how it feels when he picks the broken glass from his skin.
Fucking skipping? Get the fuck out of here!
Standing, done with the conversation, I shake my head.
“I’m taking Delilah out. When we get back, I’ll find him.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good—”
“We’ll find him,” I interrupt Dani, and her eyes widen. I know she’s the house mom, and I don’t mean no disrespect but this whole thing has gone too far. It needs to end so we can go on with our lives, like I’m trying to do for Delilah. This family has some fucking issues.
Outside, I find Delilah sitting with her back to the building, her eyes closed with the sun warming her face. Her hair’s down and she’s wearing a backward black hat. A white t-shirt with some trash saying across it, and some tight-ass jeans that are more ripped than there is fabric. She’s badass, and that’s my girl.
“Hey!”
Her eyes open.
“Let’s go look at some buildings.”
She scrambles to her feet, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“What? Now? I don’t even know where to look.” She adjusts her hat, looking at me for the answers.
“I have a realtor looking at some places in the area for me to live for when I was done prospecting, so I didn’t have to keep living at the club. I called her up and asked her for help. She gave me three locations to check out.”
Her mouth parts, her eyes averting my own.
“That’s if you want?” The question teetering the line of going on her own or following someone else.
Her attention snaps back to me.
“Yeah, I mean. Why not. Let’s go.” She shrugs, and I can tell she’s trying to sound aloof but the crack in her voice and the smile in her eyes tells me she wants this.
“You know your dad is missing?”
She looks up at me with squinted eyes. “He’s hiding out on the roof, that’s where he goes to think.”
My eyes drift to the top of the club, I don’t see anything but I bet he’s up there. I’ll go up there when we get back.
“Alright. Let’s ride my bike, I miss it.” Turning around, I head to the garage where it’s been stored. I’ve done nothing but drive my truck lately, which I love, but my motorcycle offers a piece of solace it can’t. Delilah catches up to me, hooking her fingers into my belt loop.
“Fucking yes, I love riding!”
Delilah
I hold on to the sissy bar of the motorcycle and we head off to somewhere Lee’s realtor suggested for us to look at. I’m nervous but excited at the idea of starting my own company. I love a challenge and being my own boss but there’s a lot more to running a place that has me unsure. I see the way my dad runs the club and the stress it puts him under and it looks difficult. The sun is out, warming the air to a perfect temperature today. I close my eyes and take in the roar of the motor, the mighty rumble between my thighs and exhale a cloud of stress. I don’t know what it is about riding on a motorcycle but I swear it’s a form of therapy. We ride about twenty minutes away from the club before we take a sharp left and slow down at a white brick building with two garage doors. A black car is parked in a spot right out front, that must be the realtor. We park right next to it and I glance inside the car finding a woman with dark sleek hair on her phone. She notices us and starts to nod as if she’s ending the call.