Gavin's Song: A Last Rider's Trilogy (Road to Salvation Book 1)

by Jamie Begley

  “I’m not any other woman.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ginny pretended to pinch herself, the skin on her arm too sensitive from doing it so often to actually squeeze, then she twirled around with her arms open in her brand-new living room. Well, not exactly brand-new, but new to her.

  Ginny was waiting for Willa to call and tell her to leave—that she had changed her mind and she wasn’t going to sell her the home that she had lived in before she married Pastor Dean. In a short two weeks, she had gone from saving to move into a one-bedroom apartment, into a soon-to-be owner of a home that had three bedrooms.

  Making herself a grilled cheese sandwich, she thought about going upstairs and asking her new roommate if she wanted one, then changed her mind, not wanting to disturb Bliss if she was taking a nap.

  Taking the gooey sandwich to the table, she ate it while she itemized her budget. Willa was only charging five hundred a month for the house, as well as offering to co-sign a loan when she had enough money saved for a deposit to buy it from her.

  Closing the small notebook, she tucked the coupons and sale ads she would be using that week, then stood, carrying her dirty plate to the sink. Putting her notebook into the small drawer beside the kitchen sink, she then went to her room to change her clothes. She had the morning off from the bakery, and it was her afternoon to work for The Last Riders.

  She worked half a day for Willa at her bakery and the other half at The Last Riders’ clubhouse, cleaning and cooking, rotating morning and afternoons between the two. She enjoyed both. So far the most demanding job they gave her was cooking enough food to satisfy the enormous appetites of the men who lived there. She had to make an extra pack of bacon just to keep Train and Rider happy.

  The cleaning wasn’t bad. Most of the men and women who lived there cleaned up after themselves. On the days she worked the morning shift, after making breakfast, she vacuumed, dusted, and washed clothes. She wasn’t allowed upstairs.

  The one thing Lisa West had taught her was to keep everything in its place and keep everything neat and orderly. The habit was so ingrained in her that she used her own money to buy coasters and had set them around on the various tables in the clubroom.

  Since she was heading to work at the clubhouse, she changed into her favorite worn denim and a plain T-shirt. Leaving her room, she was about to knock on Bliss’s door to tell her that she was leaving, but then dropped her hand. She would just leave her a note and text her later to ask if she wanted her to pick up anything on her way home. Ginny didn’t expect to receive a text back, but she wanted to extend the offer.

  Bliss had, so far, resisted her friendship. Ginny wasn’t upset by the rebuffs; she felt she understood Bliss’s unhappiness better than the petite woman gave her credit for. Treepoint was a small town, and it was common knowledge that Bliss had been thrown out of the club. She had lost The Last Riders, which she considered family and friends. Ginny had seen her too many times at the diner with them not to have noticed more than a couple of intimate touches and glances she had shared with the men, so when Bliss had lost her relationship with The Last Riders, it hadn’t just hurt; it had burned.

  When she had been ten years old, Ginny had begged Silas to let her help cook Thanksgiving dinner. He had given her simple tasks, like peel the eggshells for deviled eggs, tear the bread apart for the stuffing, and butter the rolls. Looking back, Ginny had been more of a hindrance than a help, constantly badgering him what to do next.

  She had been grating the carrots for the cake he’d been making, when he stopped mixing the batter to take the turkey out of the oven. It had been a thing of beauty, all golden crust and huge enough to feed the small army of children, who were complaining of hunger.

  “It’s beautiful, Silas.” Placing the peeler down, she went to the counter where he set the turkey, as Silas dug through the cabinets for the platter.

  “Don’t touch, Ginny; it’s hot,” Silas warned, bending down while keeping his eyes on her as he pulled the platter out.

  “I won’t,” she promised, keeping away from the metal pan. She slid her eyes over the breast where a thermometer stuck out. Thinking to help Silas, she reached over to pull it out.

  “No!” Silas yelled, dropping the platter with a crash as he ran toward her.

  The warning came too late. Agonizing pain had her trying to drop the metal thermometer, but it stuck to her hand. The unconceivable sensation of her flesh melting sent her to her knees as she cradled her hand.

  “Pa! Pa!” Silas shouted as he snatched her up into his arms and ran to the sink to turn the water on, placing her hand under the flow.

  Whimpering in pain, she felt dizzy because it hurt so badly. Opening her mouth to scream at how bad it hurt, she looked at Silas and made herself stop. She pressed her trembling lips together, seeing the self-recrimination across her brother’s face as he inspected the damage to her hand.

  “It’s okay, Silas,” she soothed him. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  The palm of her hand had felt like it was on fire, but she hadn’t wanted him to know how badly it hurt, more intent on making him feel better than herself. She never forgot that first burst of agonizing pain, or the pain she experienced when her father and Leah had died and she was forced to leave her family.

  Bliss was still in mourning her loss of The Last Riders; it wasn’t something she was going to get over in a single a day, if ever.

  Silas and her other brothers still remained aloof. Even when she occasionally saw them around town, they’d say a quick hello or avoid her altogether. She’d been lucky to reunite with Trudy, and having re-established that relationship, she’d forgiven Silas and made numerous attempts to reestablish their ties but, like Bliss, each and every overture was rejected. But deep down she hadn’t tried to bridge the gap between them, because she knew they were safer without her. Still, it was sad that she’d never had the opportunity to talk to Silas.

  She left the note where Bliss would see it. Her new roommate was still in the healing stage, wary of being burned, like she had all those years ago. Ginny had to earn her trust, and she was good with that—she had the same habit.

  Driving to the clubhouse, she cranked the volume up on her radio, happily singing in the privacy of her car.

  Entering the back door of the clubhouse, she saw Viper and Winter sitting at the table, drinking coffee. “Hello,” she greeted them, going straight to the refrigerator to take out a massive package of hamburger.

  “Hi,” both of them greeted her back as Winter stood up, carrying her cup to the counter.

  “I saw you were making meatloaf and potatoes for lunch. I already have the potatoes boiling, and I cut up the vegetables. What else can I help you with?”

  “If you could pull the ingredients out for the chili and start frying some of this hamburger, I can put it together once I get the meatloaf in the oven,” Ginny said as she briskly moved around the kitchen. During each of the meals, someone was always there to help her.

  With the two of them working together, it didn’t take long to have lunch ready and set out on the counter for the men and women to line up and fill their plates.

  Constantly pulling rolls out of the oven and refilling empty platters, she didn’t have time to catch her breath until Train, Rider, Razer, and Beth were eating at the table.

  “Why don’t you take a break and join us?” Beth asked as she started loading the dishwasher.

  “Thank you, but I ate lunch before I came.” Picking up what was left of the meatloaf, Ginny carried it to the table, setting it down in the middle. “You guys can finish it off.”

  Rider stabbed his fork into the meatloaf, putting it on his plate before she could move away. She shook her head as Train used his fork to steal half off Rider’s plate. Sharing an amused look with Razer’s wife, she stepped away from the table to finish loading the dishwasher.

  Other than brief, friendly comments, none of the bikers made an effort to talk to her. Willa told her that Viper and Luc
ky had warned the men that if they said anything that could be considered flirtatious or inappropriate to her, they would be sent back to the Ohio Charter.

  The men didn’t give her a second look. Personally, she didn’t think it was because they’d been threatened. Compared to the women available to them at the club and those accessible to them in town, she wasn’t worth risking Viper’s and Lucky’s anger. All she had to do was look in a mirror to see that there was nothing about her that deserved another look from a man.

  She wasn’t pretty, but neither was she ugly. She wasn’t tall or skinny; her body was on the “eh” side, she didn’t have any noticeable curves either, other than the small pouch of stomach that was the bane of her existence. Her hair was just plain brown, like everything else about her—all plain.

  The great thing about being plain was that she went unnoticed. Unless it’s Carter Dawkins, she corrected herself. She knew from the moment Dalt introduced her to him that she should have refused the job offer.

  Dalt and Carter were friends, and he had told Dalt that he needed a new receptionist when his current one left on maternity leave. Wanting a job so she could finally move out of the Wests’ home, which Ginny knew was why she had been introduced to Mr. Dawkins, she said yes.

  She had no more than started the job and moved into the Toby’s spare room that she noticed Mr. Dawkins was lingering excessively long at her desk to explain the job. She was a quick leaner and hadn’t needed him standing over her shoulder to the extent he had. When he started giving her small touches on the shoulder and arms, she moved away. Then, two weeks into the job, after they closed the office and the other workers had left, he’d nearly raped her, but she’d managed to get away.

  She hadn’t bothered formally quitting and never went back. She hadn’t pressed charges either, too wary of exposing the fictitious identity that Will had given her. Carter Dawkins had enough power that a good lawyer could start snooping into her past, and Ginny didn’t want any red flags where her identity was concerned.

  The real problem was that Carter Dawkins didn’t believe in taking no for an answer. Despite her nearly ripping his lip off when he had attacked her—enough for him to get stitches—Carter started frequenting the diner, staring at her with frightening intensity during her shifts.

  She was grateful for the jobs Willa had given her at the bakery and clubhouse, which reduced her chances of seeing Carter to almost non-existent. Treepoint was small, but the chance of running into him in town was no more or less than any other person, and if she did, it wouldn’t matter; she was confined to this place because of her past.

  She had already started the two crockpots for dinner when she got the vacuum out. It was quick work, and as she was putting it back in the closet the handle caught on one of the jackets hanging inside. Moving the jacket aside, she pushed the vacuum farther back into the closet and noticed the name sewn on a patch on the sleeve.

  Reaper.

  Without thinking, she reached out, running a finger over the letters. She hadn’t heard of anyone with that name. Goosebumps went down her arm as she wondered what type of man had earned that nickname.

  “Don’t touch it.”

  Ginny jumped at the harsh voice behind her. Turning around, she saw Viper standing behind her with Winter by his side.

  “I’m sorry. I was just moving it away from the vacuum,” she explained, stepping away from the closet when Viper stepped forward to move the jacket himself.

  “Problem solved.” Hard grooves were pronounced in his cheeks as he reached into the closet and took out the one that had his name on it before closing the door.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful.” Worried that he would think she had been snooping, she didn’t want Viper complaining to Willa and putting her on the spot for hiring her.

  Winter gave her a smile as she gripped her husband’s arm. “It’s okay. Viper is sensitive about that jacket. It was his brother’s.”

  Dread filled her at the implication. “Was?”

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go, Winter.” He put his arm around her, directing her to the door.

  Ginny felt terrible from the anguished look on Viper’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, closing the closet door. “I know how painful it is losing a sibling. I lost my sister a few years ago … the same day I lost my dad.”

  Viper and Winter paused, listening.

  Ginny gave Viper a bittersweet smile. “I still see her waving at me as they rode away”—Ginny blinked back tears—“and I still have her pink jacket in my closet. I’m so sorry for your loss,” she finished simply.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry for yours also.”

  Ginny nodded, moving away so they could leave. She went to the kitchen, then down to the basement to start a load of clothes. Thankfully, there was no one there and she was able to have time to herself to get her emotions back under control.

  That the hard-as-nails president of The Last Riders’ expression had shown that same depth of pain she felt made him more likeable and not as formidable. Losing someone you loved would bring even the strongest man to their knees. Loss struck a devastating blow regardless of the person’s ability to withstand the pain, searing their soul forever. Viper, Bliss, and she had been marked; the only difference was how deep the burn went.

  Hearing steps coming down the basement stairs, Ginny turned, seeing Jewell carrying a basket of clothes.

  “Sorry, I meant to bring these down last night. You mind? I want to wear the top tonight.”

  “No problem. I haven’t even started the load.” Taking the basket of clothes, she set it on the folding table, then picked up a blue top, accidently dislodging a set of keys. Seeing them fall, she clasped them in her hand mid-air.

  “Good catch.” Jewell grinned, taking the keys from her. Then her eyes widened on Ginny’s exposed palm.

  “Damn, that must have hurt like a motherfucker,” she said sympathetically.

  Sorting through the rest of the clothes, Ginny saw that Jewell was still looking at her hand curiously. “You know the old saying.”

  “Which one?”

  Ginny gave her a rueful smile. “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Ginny raced around the house, getting everything organized. Making sure her bath towel was hanging before grabbing her curling rod, she went back to her bedroom to shove it in her suitcase, then zipped it closed. Wheeling the small suitcase to the steps, she grabbed it by the handle.

  “Do you want me to—”

  “No, I don’t want you to fix me anything to eat. And no, I don’t want you to bring me anything back from Lexington. Just go. Have a good time at the basketball game.”

  Ginny brushed aside her roommate’s determined effort not to become friendly with her, despite the fact that Bliss didn’t mind borrowing something of hers when it suited her needs. “I’ll bring you a T-shirt. You can’t live in Kentucky and not have a Go Cat’s T-shirt.”

  “I don’t have a problem with it, and neither should you.”

  Ginny didn’t let the grumpy response get to her. She still didn’t think Bliss liked her, but she thought she’d gradually get there … in about ten or fifteen years.

  Bliss looked up from her magazine. “Do you have to be in a good mood all the time? It’s depressing.”

  “What’s not to be in a good mood about? I have the rest of the day off, won tickets to a basketball game that everyone in the state wants to go to, and I get a free hotel room with dinner included.”

  “I can think of a few things that would put me in a better mood.”

  “As I don’t have a handsome boyfriend like Drake, the basketball game will have to do for me.”

  Bliss’s eyes grew curious. “Aren’t there any men in town that you’re interested in?”

  “No,” she answered truthfully.

  “Not even any of The Last Riders?”

  Ginny shuddered in mock h
orror. “God, no.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not.” Ginny laughed. “None of them are my type.”

  “What is your type?”

  “I don’t know, but when I find out, you’ll be the first to know.” Opening the door, she wheeled her suitcase through it. “Don’t forget to lock the door, and—”

  “Bye.”

  Ginny blew her a kiss, just to see Bliss’s reaction, before closing the door swiftly at the magazine that came flying her way.

  “She’s definitely starting to like me.”

  Tossing her suitcase in the trunk she got in the car and buckled her seatbelt. She turned the radio on before driving off with a grin. She waited until she was out of the city limits, then cranked the radio up even higher, lowering the window to let the breeze hit her. Pressing down on the pedal when the speed limit showed 60, Ginny was bouncing along to the music.

  Pure freedom called to her, as if the good ole, reliable Ginny had given way to the reckless, carefree one that she kept to herself.

  The drive to Lexington was always exhilarating. For those four hours, she could let that side of her run free and wild, that it was only ever in the confines of her car didn’t bother her.

  Arriving in Lexington, she drove directly to her hotel. Giving a low whistle when she walked into the lobby, she gazed around, awestruck. Checking in, she took her key, then went to the elevator, hitting the eighth-floor button.

  A good-looking guy got inside with her, pressing the tenth. “You’re not going to the game tonight?” he asked.

  “You kidding? Those tickets cost a fortune.”

  “A few of my friends are meeting up at the bar to watch the game; stop by and I’ll buy you a beer,” he invited.

  “Sorry, been traveling all day and planning on getting a good night’s sleep.” Giving him a spent smile, when the door opened she wheeled her suitcase out of the elevator.

  Looking down at her key, she went down the hall, coming to a stop three doors away from the stairwell. Sliding the electronic key into the door, she went inside, giving another appreciative whistle. She locked the door, reached into her front pocket to take out the door stopper, then slid it under the door. Next, she closed the curtains before going to the desk to drag the chair across the floor, bracing the back under the doorknob.