The Secrets That Find Us (The Devils Dust MC Legacy)

“I promise, it will be worth it in the end.” His words offer promise and my head slowly raises. He’s now leaning against the wall, his arms still crossed.

“My rocker,” I mutter, knowing they want me patched in but I have to do something big to prove myself. I don’t just want in because they like me, or I’m handy to have around. I want to earn it my place and this would be something personal for the president of the club, an act of trust. If there’s ever a chance to prove myself to the club, it’s now.

“Okay,” I say on an exhale. I’d much rather bury a body, or do a drug run than get involved with family drama but I’d do it for Shadow because I know he’d do it for me if it were my kid. That’s the kind of guy he is. He’s fucking scary and ominous but this club and his men are his life and mission. That’s why I want to be a part of it. I want this life, I want the bond and the guys as my brothers.

He pushes off the wall and steps over the tools I was using until we’re inches apart.

“And Big Chief.” His tone of voice takes a cold dip. “I swear to God if she sees you and you blow this fucking job…” he threatens, his dark eyes gleaming like a demon out in the daylight hours.

“I got it. Observe and report back,” I confirm with a curt nod.

“Right. Also take your truck, she’ll be listening for motorcycles, her eyes will zero in on men with cuts on. She’s expecting me to find her. I know it,” he whispers, looking out of the garage like the wind is secretly talking to him or some shit, like it will carry a message to his daughter across the states that he’s coming.

I nod, understanding—not really.

“I’ll leave—”

“Tonight. Now.” His eyes snap to mine. “This, this is what I’m asking of you. It is a deal-breaker for us if you don’t accept, do you understand? You either do it or pack your shit.”

“Tonight it is…” I mumble, a little surprised at the urgency. She has been gone a couple days already. Dani must have had the final say on going after their daughter, Shadow wants me out of here and on my way before she finds out.

“Keep it quiet.” He gives a sharp glare, before slowly walking out of the garage bay as if he is just moseying about and not up to scandalous shit. He’s fucking slick.

Delilah

The sun splits through the dusty shades, warmth caressing my face and I can’t help but wake with a satisfied smile. Groaning, I stretch my arms above my head and yawn. Opening my eyes, the small room comes into view, and it takes me a second to remember where I am. Firm unmade bed, an old dresser an arm’s length away, and the smell of dust slowly bringing my memory back. Oh yeah, I’m in Georgia. Tossing the blankets off me, I climb out of bed and can’t help but notice the stiffness in my lower back from all the driving I had done the last few days. When I stand up, I press my hands into my lower back, feeling like an old lady. My muscles are stiff and cramp when I try and stretch it out, causing me to cringe. Jesus, I’m definitely not one for traveling. Maybe I should fly next time I try and take a trip like that. My bra and panties that I wore to bed are damp with sweat, I need to change. The humidity here is fierce compared to back home. I step over yesterday’s clothes crumpled on the floor and go into the living room where my packed shit is. Flipping my hair out of my face and onto my shoulder, I bend down and unzip the bag that contains most of my clothing. I grab some black torn shorts and crop-topped Harley shirt. Buttoning up the shorts, I look around the place thinking of what I should do first. Probably clean. I’ve never seen so much dust before. Slipping my shirt on my stomach shows and I wonder for a second if that’s too much skin for being down south, aren’t they more conservative? I don’t know, but with the heat, I could use a breeze, so I leave it on. I tear open a box that has some of my beauty shit in it, spotting my hair ties, I pile my hair on my head to get it out of my face and wrap a lime green scrunchie around the curls.

Standing back up, I search for a duster or rag opening random drawers and cabinets in the kitchen. Some are empty, others I have to jerk open because they’re stuck on the track. Opening the cabinets under the sink, the rusty hinge squeaks, I find some torn, folded wash rags. Score. These will work for wiping things down.