Since I don’t trust Lynn right now, I leave the door open.
“You need to stop this shit, Lynn. Even before”—I wave my hand toward the hallway—“this happened, your meddling was stressing Shelby out. It needs to end. She really doesn’t need it now.”
“Don’t tell me what my daughter needs. I’m her mother.” She wiggles her fingers at me. “You’ve been in her life for five minutes.”
My mouth quirks. I get it. We haven’t been serious for long. Lynn knows that better than anyone. But by now, she should’ve accepted this is more than a hookup. “Listen, I get why you worry about her so much—”
“You’re not a parent, so I don’t think you do.”
“No, I’m not. And I’m not eager to become one anytime soon, either.” Maybe that will finally shut her up. “Since you seem so concerned about that topic.”
“Big surprise.” She snorts. “No man wants kids. They just don’t like anything in the way of gettin’ their dick wet.”
I blink and stare. Not how I envisioned our conversation going. At all. “I get that your ex was a piece of shit, Lynn.”
She recoils as if I’d slapped her. Maybe later I’ll feel bad about that. Right now, I’m glad she’s so stunned she keeps her mouth shut.
“I’m not saying there aren’t a lot of assholes out there,” I continue, “but I’m not one of them. I love your daughter.”
She drops her gaze and kicks the toe of her boot against the metal bedframe. “She’s enamored of you. I’m sure it seems exciting to be with an experienced older man. But she has to focus on her career. She won’t have a second chance.”
“You don’t give her enough credit. Shelby’s got no problem expressing herself around me.”
“She’s too young to know what she’s doing.”
Wait a second. Is that Lynn’s problem? “You realize I’m only six years older than her, right?”
She squints up at me. “I assumed you were older.”
“Yeah, you assume a lot of things about me that aren’t true.” I stroke my hand over my beard. “Is it the beard? Does it give me a dirty old man vibe, or something?”
My attempt at a joke doesn’t penetrate her attitude of steel. “No, it’s your VP patch. Figured you had to be a lot older to earn one of those.”
I glance down, taking in the patch that still looks pretty clean even though I stitched it on a few months ago. She might have a point. Some clubs probably have age requirements for officeholders. Mine isn’t one of them. Merit and the vote of our fellow brothers are all we need.
Now I’m curious. “How many bikers have you known, Lynn?”
She glares at me. “Enough.”
“Was Shelby’s dad a biker?”
“Lordy, no.”
“So what’s your problem with me?”
“It’s not you, specifically.” She tilts her head to the side. “I like you fine, Rooster. Now just isn’t the right time for her. If you two still feel this way in a few years when Shelby’s more established, then give it a shot.” She raises her eyebrows hopefully, as if she thinks she’s come up with a perfect solution. “You know…if ya love her, set her free. And if she comes back…”
My entire body recoils at the suggestion.
Miss out on years with Shelby for some imaginary reason Lynn’s concocted in her warped mind? Hell fucking no.
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“You don’t understand. She’s wanted this since she was a little girl—”
“I know that.”
She plows ahead as if I hadn’t spoken. “I don’t want her giving it all up for a man.”
The suggestion that I’m disposable or interchangeable with any random guy who might pop into Shelby’s life at some point pisses me off, but I keep my tone level. “I don’t want her to give anything up.”
“That right? You’ll be okay with her on the road all the time? Won’t find someone else to warm your bed while she’s gone?”
Somehow, I don’t think informing Lynn that I plan to travel with Shelby is going to ease her mind.
“What about those award shows?” she presses. “That’s a big deal for Shelby. She needs a man on her arm who enhances her career.”
Well, that’s something I can’t do for her. Fuck, if anything, my club ties could fuck up Shelby’s career. Strange how that’s not Lynn’s go-to argument.
She flashes a triumphant smile when I hesitate.
No. Fuck that. “Stop worrying about shit that’s none of your business. And stop making her miserable, Lynn.”
The hurt on her face almost makes me wish I’d chosen my words more carefully. Almost.
“She said I make her miserable?” she asks in a small voice.
“Shelby doesn’t have to say it. I can see it with my own two eyes every time she talks to you. Stop harassing her. And while you’re at it, stop calling Greg. He’s not going to toss me off the tour. Especially now.”
She swallows hard and averts her eyes. “He told you that?”
“Yes.”
“He told you I wanted you off the tour…” She stumbles over the words. “But you still paid for me to fly out here?”
I didn’t want to rub that in Lynn’s face but it’s nice to have her finally acknowledge it.
“Whatever beef you think you have with me”—I tap my chest—“doesn’t change the fact that Shelby needed her mom here.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I think that’s as close to a truce as I’m going to get with Lynn.
Still, I can’t help being a bit of an asshole about the situation. “And trust me, your daughter’s not so twitterpated over me she forgets about birth control.”
Her cheeks turn red.
I probably enjoy the shock on her face a little too much. Good. I hope I made her as uncomfortable as she makes Shelby.
This better be the last time Lynn and I need to have this conversation.
But somehow, I doubt it.
Chapter Sixteen
Shelby
Heidi’s stories about the ride down here do the trick and pull me out of my funk.
“Thank you for coming all that way. I can’t believe…you must have enough to do at home.”
Heidi shrugs. “I was worried about you. We all were.”
“Where’s Alexa?” I can’t imagine it’s easy for a young mom to just take off at a moment’s notice.
“With Rock and Hope.” Her lips curl into a softer, warmer smile. “We lived with them for a while, so she’s comfortable there. Still has her own room at their house. And she loves them to pieces. My brother will look after her if they need a break.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, the little ones get spoiled rotten in the LOKI family.” She raises her eyebrows as if that’s a perk I should be excited about.
Someone knocks softly on the door and pushes it open. Trinity’s pretty face appears in the crack. “Hey, Shelby. Mind if I join you?”
I scoot up a little. “You came too?”
“Sure did. How are you feeling?” She closes the door behind her, long blonde and blue ponytail swishing over her back.
“Almost human again.” I still haven’t sorted through all of my feelings but I feel safe for the moment, and that’s a start.
Trinity approaches the bed and my gaze drops to the bag in her hand.
“I brought you something. I, uh…” She hesitates and glances down. “I was going to send it to you for your birthday but with everything, I thought maybe you should have it now. I hope you don’t mind.”
Now I’m curious and don’t understand why Trinity seems so nervous and hesitant. “Thank you. That was sweet.”
She sets the bag on my lap. I peel it open and pull out a mint-green T-shirt. The faint scent of vinegar wafts up as I unfold the soft cotton.
“Oh my God!” An excited squeal bursts out of me. “My flocking fabulous flamingo!” A sassy pink flamingo with a teal guitar and teal cowgirl boots is front and center on
the shirt. I couldn’t have come up with something more perfect if I’d tried.
“You like it?” Trinity asks.
“I love it,” I whisper, too shocked to look away from the gift. “Did you…did you make it?”
“Well, I created the design but had it printed up. There’s a blanket and tote bag too.” She flashes a quick smile. “But I didn’t have a lot of room or time to pack.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Don’t feel like you have to use it or I’m stealing your idea or anything…” Trinity hesitates like she’s waiting for me to yell at her or something.
“Are you kidding? I love it! I can’t believe you remembered and designed it for me. It’s perfect. Thank you.” I reach for her and pull her down for a hug.
“Oh!” She hugs me back gently. “You’re welcome.”
She gives me an easier smile and holds up her right hand. “I promise I won’t be one of those people giving you flamingo knick-knacks every holiday for the rest of your life. I just…wanted you to have this.”
“I love it. Really.”
“Rooster said you’re into yoga.” Heidi pats Trinity’s shoulder. “Trin drew up this super-cute, like, totally Zen flamingo meditating too.” She closes her eyes, tips her head back and holds up her hands, touching her middle finger and thumb together to demonstrate.
“Zero flocks given.” Trinity winks at me.
I squeal and clap my hands together. “I love it!”
Heidi grins at us. “It’s so cute.”
The door opens and Rooster pokes his head inside. “Everything all right?”
I hold up the shirt. “Look what Trinity made me!”
He smiles and lifts his chin at Trinity. “It came out nice.”
“Thanks.”
They share a look that resembles conspiring siblings.
“Where’s my mom?” I ask.
“Talking to Greg.” He glances down the hallway. “You want me to grab her?”
“That depends. Is she in a more sane and reasonable mood?”
He shrugs and bites his lip like he doesn’t want to say anything bad so it’s wiser to say nothing.
“Murphy’s looking for you, Heidi.” Rooster lifts his chin at me. “I’ll be right back.”
“Everything okay?” Trinity asks once we’re alone.
“My mom…she thinks she’s looking out for me but…she doesn’t approve of Rooster…of our relationship.”
“Because of the club?” she asks gently. “I understand why that might make some mothers uncomfortable.”
“No. Well, at least she hasn’t used that as a reason yet.” I sigh and fiddle with my chipped nail polish. “She’s worried I’m going to repeat her history. Get knocked up, quit singing. I don’t know what she’s thinking.”
“I realize we don’t know each other that well yet.” Trinity gives me a hesitant smile. “But you seem pretty smart and determined to me.”
“Thanks. I keep trying to explain, you can’t help when you fall in love.”
“Nope. For what it’s worth, Rooster’s a pretty smart and determined guy himself. You’re a good match for each other.”
A brief smile flickers over my lips. “I think so too.”
“Maybe she just misses you because now you’re out on the road?”
“Maybe.” Although I don’t think that explains all Momma’s crazy.
Trinity’s quiet for a few minutes, watching me. Not in a creepy way. More thoughtful or maybe protective. “I don’t know everything that happened to you, Shelby. But if you need or…want to talk about it, I’m here.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I swallow hard. “Thank you.”
“You’re safe and won’t have to worry about him again.” Her grave tone leaves me with no doubt as to what she’s implying.
“Jigsaw mentioned something…similar.”
“Oh, I bet he did.” Her expression remains serious. “Being a biker’s ol’ lady means if someone hurts you, the whole club hits ’em back. Hard.”
“I’ve gotten that impression.” I try to force a smile. “Truthfully, I’d rather not get hurt in the first place.”
“Well, truthfully, only someone stupid or suicidal goes after a Lost Kings girl.” She winks at me.
“You and Heidi make it seem so…normal. But I’ve never had anyone look out for me that way before.”
“I understand,” she says softly. “After my dad died, no one looked out for me either until…Well, the club will protect you.”
“I haven’t seen Wrath in action, but I’ve noticed Jigsaw’s just as ferocious as Rooster.”
“Yup, they’re all like that.”
“But to leave everything and run down here. That means a lot. Everyone has jobs and—”
“The club always comes first. Wrath and Murphy own a gym together. And trust me, my husband loves bossing their other partner around, so I’m sure he left Jake a lengthy list of instructions.” She chuckles. “I have my own business and a lot of it can be done remotely. Heidi’s part-time at her job so I think she just switched some days around.” Her mouth quirks. “Besides, they probably wanted some alone time to make a Baby O’Callaghan.”
I cringe at the idea of a baby anything.
Trinity bursts out laughing, curling her arms over her stomach and falling forward. “Oh, shit. That’s the same face I make every time someone asks me when Wyatt and I are having a baby.”
“Ugh. People are so rude.”
She straightens but laughter still sparkles in her eyes. “They have no boundaries for sure.”
“I can’t…Lots of girls I went to high school with already have kids and stuff. I can’t even imagine…It sounds like so much work,” I finish on a whisper.
“Being a mom is rough,” she agrees. “A hundred-and-sixty-eight-hour-a-week job. I adore my little nieces and nephews. And I’d straight-up murder anyone who tried to hurt them,” she says with a savage smile. “But babysitting them has never given me the urge to have my own. Like, never.”
“Good to know.” What a relief to find someone to talk about this stuff with. “People keep telling me I’ll get baby fever eventually. Why? Because I’m female? I knew when I was little, I didn’t want ’em.” A happy memory curves my lips. “Now, my little sister Hayley wanted babies. Lots of ’em. She was the sweetest, most patient kid. She would’ve been a great momma.” My voice falters on the last word. I miss her so much.
“I didn’t realize you had a sister,” Trinity says gently.
“She died when she was eight,” I whisper.
“Oh shit, Shelby. I’m sorry.” Trinity bites her lip and sits forward, resting her hand on my arm. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay.” I pick at the blanket. “Watching my parents go through that kind of pain…I couldn’t ever take the risk.”
She doesn’t offer any weak platitudes or sentimental words. None of the callous “God has a plan” bullshit people told me after Hayley died. Instead, she just quietly holds my hand for a few minutes.
“Thank you,” I finally say.
“No problem.”
Someone taps on the door and pushes it open. “Hi, Ms. Morgan. Doctor Landry asked me to stop by. Can we chat for a minute?”
Trinity stands and pats my hand. “We’re all down in the waiting room if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
I watch her leave, wishing I could follow. The new doctor closes the door behind Trinity and approaches the bed with sure steps.
I’ve been poked and prodded by a lot of different people since waking up. But this doctor seems different. I can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s her slower manner. The way she carefully checks her charts and doesn’t seem to be in a rush like everyone else who has breezed through my room.
She holds out a business card. “Doctor Lola McDavis. I’m a consulting clinical psychologist with the hospital.”
“Oh.” I accept the card and briefly shake her hand. “Hi.”
“How are
you feeling?” She smooths her skirt over her legs and perches on the edge of the chair closest to my bed.
“Hurting. Tired.”
“That’s understandable.” She nods to the door. “You seem to have a lot of friends and family here for support.”
My lips twitch into a sad smile. It’s been just my mother and me for so long, it feels strange to think of having “friends and family.”
“Mostly my boyfriend’s family but my mother is here too,” I explain.
“That’s good.” She makes a quick note on her chart. “I understand this was a stranger abduction? You’re a singer…and this was an obsessed fan?”
I shudder. A vision of the man’s ugly face, the acidic scent of tomato soup, and the relentless fear while he chased me through the dark, all press down on me like a thousand pounds of nightmares. “Yes,” I whisper.
“That sounds really scary.” She pierces me with her steady gaze. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
She doesn’t seem put off by my abrupt answer. Instead, she nods slowly. “I understand it’s tempting to bury this in an attempt to move on with your life. But I want to caution you—that can present problems later on. If you’re not comfortable speaking with me, I can recommend someone else.”
And give these people more reason to keep me here when I should be out on the road? Nope. “What’s there to talk about? It’s over.”
“Yes. And I know it’s too soon to assess any lingering issues, but I want you to be aware that some survivors have nightmares, flashbacks, and/or depression. Certain events could trigger any of those adverse symptoms. It could happen now or months from now. And it’s completely normal.”
I close my eyes briefly, recalling some of my earlier nightmare. “I suspect I’ll have nightmares for a while,” I admit.
Her expression doesn’t change. No triumphant gotcha-to-open-up smile. Just calm reassurance. “Do you want to talk about that a little?”
Before I realize it, I’m spilling the whole awful story. The kidnapping, my fear, my escape attempt, my anger, and how certain I was that I was going to die.
She listens to every word, hardly taking down any notes.
Lyrics on the Wind (Lost Kings MC Book 17) Page 12
