Camden (The Henchmen MC 18)

"S-s-say y-you h-had a-a em-em-emergency."

Well, that was true enough at least.

People would be understanding, forgiving. And I could just gloss over the truth. Say I needed to take an unexpected emergency trip to South Jersey to help out elderly friends of mine. Say I left behind my phone in my haste. I couldn't call.

I didn't like to lie, but it was a small, white one.

"Okay," I agreed without giving it any further thought.

I probably should have.

Sat and weighed the pros and cons of it all. Wondered about how it might feel to stay in a clubhouse full of strange, dangerous men. And their equally unusual and dangerous women.

But the fact of the matter was, I wanted to be with Cam. I wanted to give this a real shot. To do that, I needed to be safe from Thomas. If the only way to accomplish that was to stay at least part-time at an outlaw arms-dealing biker club, well, I guess that was what I was going to do.

"O-okay?" he asked, tone uncharacteristically uncertain.

"Yeah. I think it might be exciting. I have been kinda dying to meet some of the guys - and girls - since you started telling me stories about them. Do you think West is going to try to pull pranks on me?"

"P-p-probably."

"I will make sure to carefully scrutinize my food before consuming it," I told him as we both got up, started packing up my things that had gotten strewn around a bit while I was in that ugly headspace, not being so careful to keep it all together in case I needed to run again like I used to.

But it was all done in a matter of minutes, leaving us trying to figure out how to get my suitcase and guitar back to Navesink Bank since we were leaving my car and taking his bike.

Eventually, he found some rope and bungees in the garage, promising to replace them before Clark missed them, then we both climbed on the bike and headed back to the life we had started to build.I don't know what I was expecting from the clubhouse.

I guess something like a frat house.

Disordered, a little dirty, beer can pyramids and a complete and utter lack of anything comforting and homey.

There was a bar inside the door to one side, a fully stocked wall behind it, bar stools. A pool table was to the other side. Further forward was a seating area with the kinds of chairs and couches that begged you to sit awhile.

The giant flatscreen was also expected.

But there were some warm touches. A few throw pillows were on the couches, curtains framed the windows.

There was a forgotten baby shoe in a corner that spoke of the very different lifestyles that managed to coexist in this place. The gun-running criminal empire, but also the family men.

That said, everything was clean, put away. I didn't see a single rogue cobweb in a corner.

Cam's hand gave mine a squeeze as he closed the door behind us, leading me forward. Noises were coming from what seemed to be the kitchen area, and I could feel myself tensing a bit at the idea of running into a bunch of bikers.

I guess a part of me was worried Cam was the exception, not the rule, that maybe the others would be scary or gruff or...

The train of thought slipped away as a man came bouncing out of the kitchen with a pretty little girl in a tutu on his shoulders, giggling.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"And by that she means, Hi, my name is Jelly. What's yours? Right, Jelly?" her father corrected.

Perched on his shoulders, he missed the little eye roll she had before smiling. "Right. That's what I meant."

If this girl was Jelly - short for Jelena - then that meant that the man peeling her off his shoulders was Colson. The single dad.

"I'm Annie. I'm Cam's... friend."

"Cam always wins the quiet game," Jelly announced with a shrug as she stood next to her father, leaning into him slightly.

"I can see why that would be," I agreed.

Colson's hand moved out, completely enveloped mine. "Colson," he told me unnecessarily. But I couldn't exactly tell them that Camden had been giving me stories about them all for weeks. I wasn't sure if that would make them angry or not.

"Who are you talking..." a voice started before it appeared beside the father/daughter duo. Even though Cam hadn't given me a super in-depth physical description of the men, I recognized him immediately. Maybe it was the mischief in his eyes or the playful smile that teased at his lips, but there was no doubt in my mind that this was West. "Oh, pretty girl. Don't you know you could do better than this schmuck?" he asked, tsking his tongue.

"I don't think I could actually," I corrected him. "I'm Annie," I told him. "And you're West."