T.A. (Biker Bitches 6)

“No.”

“I’m her next-door neighbor, and I ain’t leaving until I see that little lady is okay.” Suspiciously, the old man tried to stare up at him as if he had killed T.A. and hidden her body in the bedroom.

Seeing the genuine concern for T.A., Dalton moved aside and let the man inside. After he closed the door, the men stood awkwardly by the counter.

“It’s taking her a long time, ain’t it?” Al squinted at him fiercely. His shaggy eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead.

“I was thinking the same thing. Let me check.” Dalton was walking toward the bathroom door when he caught sight of the note that hung on the front of the fridge.

Walking closer, he read the message.

Dalton,

I had to get an early start this morning. Stud was able to get your car out of the ditch before I left. The keys are under the mat under the steering wheel. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving!

T.A.

Did that mean she wasn’t coming to sex Piston’s parents’ house for their Thanksgiving dinner? He had just assumed she would be there, becoming irritated that she had left him without giving him the opportunity to say good-bye. The movie would wrap within the next two weeks, and he wouldn’t be coming back to Jamestown. DeMour had told Zeke right after the screen test that he wasn’t the right fit for his movie. When Zeke had returned to filming No Man Land, all of the demanding and high maintenance behavior had been replaced with the actor he had thought he had hired in the first place.

“She had to leave this morning,” Dalton said, turning around to face Al.

“Where’d she go?”

Al didn’t look any happier at T.A. not being there than he did.

“She didn’t say.” Dalton took the note off the fridge and gave it to Al. Maybe he could gleam more from the message than he could.

The old man took the note from him, reading it. “Damn, I was going to borrow some bread off her,” he said, handing the note back.

The counters were empty except for the coffee pot to the side of the stove.

“Do you know where she keeps it?”

“In the cabinet by the microwave.” Al went behind the counter to open the cabinet door, taking out a full loaf of bread. Closing it, he went to the door.

Dalton stopped him. “You’re not going to leave some for her?”

“No, she always gives me the whole loaf.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry about it. Me and Trudy borrow from each other all the time.”

Dalton decided to let him take the bread just to get rid of him. He went into the bathroom and showered and changed back into the clothes he had worn to dinner last night.

When he was finished, he texted T.A. that her neighbor had stopped by and taken her bread while he left her apartment to go to his car. He was waiting for her reply as he sat waiting for the car to warm. The ping that came from his cell phone had him reaching for it immediately.

He got peeved like a spoiled eighteen-year-old boy when he saw the thumb-up icon. Carefully maneuvering the car out of the parking lot so he wouldn’t end back up in the ditch, he drove to Sex Piston’s house.

He had only stayed a few minutes when they’d arrived yesterday. Beyond being given an introduction from Stud, he explained he had a dinner date with T.A. before leaving.

He was worried that he might be waking them up to answer the door so early. Dalton knocked lightly. If they didn’t answer, he would text Dax to let him inside.

The appetizing smells hit him when the door was opened.

“Come on in. You’ll freeze your ass off out there.” Sex Piston’s father greeted him. “Go to the kitchen and get some coffee. There’s some breakfast left. Sizzle makes the best bacon, if you don’t mind it being a little crispy.”

“Thanks, Skulls.”

Going through the dining room, he went through the door to the kitchen, coming to a stop when he was struck full force by the smell of cooking food.

Dax was sitting at the kitchen table chopping onions. Fat Louise was sitting next to him chopping celery as Sex Piston stood cooking at the stove.

“Have I died and gone to Heaven?” Dalton moved closer to the stove to see what Sex Piston was cooking.

There were sweet potatoes boiling in a big pot; in another pot, green beans were boiling just as fast.

Dalton sniffed the air, distinguishing one particular smell. “That turkey smells amazing.”

“Wait until it’s done. It’s going to taste as good as it smells.”

Dalton felt Sex Piston’s eyes move over him as she took a pumpkin pie out of the oven.

“Have a seat. I fixed you a plate for breakfast. I’ll reheat it. The coffee is over there. I just made another pot. Help yourself if you want some. If not, there’s juice in the refrigerator.”