Riding Blind Read online

  She’d barely seen him over the last day. After Shawn left, she spent the day with Bree. Bryce had been nowhere to be found. Around nine that night, she saw him again when he tucked Bree into bed and wished her a good night. The next morning, she woke again to find Bree gone, but she found a note on the dresser written in Bryce’s messy handwriting stating they’d be back later. She made herself some coffee and breakfast then busied herself tidying up their room. It took a half hour. She then decided on cleaning the common areas in the compound, her way of paying back the club. Starting with the kitchen, she moved on to the living room and game room then finally ended with the bathrooms.

  On her first bathroom, one of the ones located downstairs near the living room, cleaning the accumulated dust under the mess under the sink, Bryce found her, startled her causing her to hit her head on the bottom of the sink. It hurt in a way she knew she’d nurse a bump for the next couple of days.

  Rubbing her head, she released the rag she held in her other hand, turned fully to him, and waited for him to speak.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  On her knees, head under the bathroom sink, a rag in her hand, and several cleaning supplies next to her, it was quite obvious what she’d been doing. Thinking it a rhetorical question, she didn’t respond.

  He clenched his jaw, taking a step toward her. “Get off the floor, and tell me what the fuck you think you’re doing.”

  Releasing the back of her head, she gripped the top of the sink and stood. So much taller than her, she had to keep her head angled. “I’m cleaning.”

  The vein in his neck began pulsing, and the air around them went electric. “I got eyes. I know that’s what you’re doing. What I wanna know is why?”

  That’s not what he asked, and because he’d only get angrier if she pointed this out, she didn’t. “I’m helping out.”

  He took another menacing step toward her. “Why?”

  “I told you I wanted to help out since I can’t work…”

  He closed the distance between them. A mere inch from her, so close she almost felt the warmth of his body. Her head tilted back farther, her gaze locked with his dead one that unique color.

  “Are you trying to find ways to get me pissed?”

  No, but she was tempted to press her lips against his despite…everything.

  “You gonna fuckin’ answer me?”

  She jumped and took a step away, trying to remember what he asked. “I just wanted to help out any way I can.”

  Feeling warm liquid run down the back of her head, she rubbed it away then spared a glance at her hand. Blood, no wonder it hurt so much. She’d broken the skin. “Shoot.”

  “Fuck.”

  She looked at him and watched as he ran his fingers through his hair, eyes dead and staring at the blood on her hand. “It’s fine.”

  Bryce grasped her elbow, tugged her to him, yanked a clean towel off the rack next to him, and pressed it to the back of her head. Close enough his body pressed against hers, so close she saw more clearly the beautiful, harsh angles of his face, the angles seared in her mind. She’d burned them there. She took her fill, knowing after all that time, he was still all she wanted, even knowing what he’d done and why they had to end. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of him against her, his hands in her hair.

  Then that warmth was gone, so quickly, so swiftly. Her eyes snapped open. He’d put distance between them, a good two feet, and didn’t meet her eyes. His hand extended toward her, holding out the towel he’d pressed against the back of her head. She took it.

  “You don’t clean up after the brothers.” He met her gaze. “Club’s been meaning to hire a receptionist at the garage for a while. I talked to the brothers. We voted, and the majority agreed. You got the job if you want it.”

  Her jaw dropped. He hated her and treated her like shit, but he’d gotten her a job? Oh God, it meant she’d have something to occupy her time, her mind, maybe make a little money so she wouldn’t be completely dependent on Bryce, on his club. When Chained dealt with the Falcons, she’d get her own place.

  “What’s it gonna be?”

  So excited at the prospect, she stuttered, “I-I… Yes.”

  “Office is a fuckin’ mess. You’re gonna have to deal with the customers, the brothers, make orders—”

  He started to sound like he was trying to convince her not to take the job.

  “That’s fine.”

  “The pay isn’t great.”

  She smiled. “I don’t need much.”

  “Right.”

  “I’ll give you what I make for—”

  He narrowed his eyes and barked, “No.”

  He got her the job, and she wouldn’t pay him back by making him angrier, giving him an excuse to rescind the offer, so she said nothing.

  “You start Monday, nine to five. You need anything else to occupy your time, you take care of Bree, cook and clean for her, for yourself. You still wanna do more, you can clean up after me. I won’t turn away any of your meals either. You do not clean up after anyone else. You do not cook for anyone else. We understood?”

  He was territorial, always had been, an alpha male thing, a biker thing, but also a Bryce thing. That one thing, she learned, hadn’t changed, even though he’d done what he had, even though she ran off with his kid. Some part of him still considered her his property even if he didn’t want her and treated her like shit. Better than nothing, and yet, it wasn’t enough, nowhere near. She wanted more, wanted it all, but she’d never get that.

  “Tell me you understand.”

  “I understand.”

  He held her gaze for several moments. “Are you planning on making dinner?”

  She nodded.

  “Should start.” His brows furrowed. He hesitated before he spoke again. “Bree hasn’t eaten much since she got here.”

  That look on his face, she’d never seen it but knew what it meant—worry, another reminder of the grave mistake she’d made.

  She meant to answer quicker, but guilt choked her. When he cocked his head, she found her voice. “She doesn’t have much of an appetite. It’s nothing to worry about… Well, I mean it is, but it isn’t.”

  His brows went up. “Care to explain that.”

  “You’ll worry about it. As a parent, you can’t help it. I’ve talked to the doctor about it. He says as long as she’s eating regularly, she’s fine.”

  “What kinda fucked doctor said that?” His voice rose.

  She smiled softly. “He doesn’t recommend force feeding her. He did say I should offer her snacks throughout the day.”

  He nodded. “She’s all set to start school Monday.” He looked away and ran a hand through his hair. “What does she need for school?”

  “Depends on the teacher, but to be on the safe side, I’d buy crayons, markers, paper, pencils, and a couple of notebooks.”

  “Got it.”

  “She’ll also need a book bag. I can give you—”

  With those words, the ease in which they’d been conversing faded.

  His body tensed, eyes hardened. “Not takin’ any of your money. Stop offering, all you’re managing to do is piss me off.”

  She nodded.

  “Dinner.” He then strode away.

  Chapter Six

  Showered and dressed, Emelia headed down the stairs intent on getting dinner started. Clearing the wall leading into the living room, she heard a voice. A woman’s, it was unusual to find a woman, any woman, at the compound on a Wednesday especially considering it was barely six.

  The brothers liked women and had plenty to choose from especially those who liked bikers and didn’t mind being shared. The brothers called them taps, but from what Em remembered, none hung out at the compound or stayed indefinitely. The brothers liked their privacy, so unless there was a party or unless a woman was an old lady, women didn’t stick around. They weren’t seen or heard at the compound. Plain and simple. Knowing this, Emelia figured
either that rule changed or the woman, whoever she was, meant something to one of the brothers.

  “Bree,” the woman said, softly.

  Em stiffened and stayed out of sight. After several seconds, she peeked from behind the wall and spotted a petite brunette.

  She knew from one look the woman wasn’t a tap. First, the brunette didn’t dress like one. Instead of a miniskirt and tiny tank, the usual dress code for taps, the woman wore a pair of well-fitted skinny jeans, peach-colored blouse, and a pair of platform sandals. Em couldn’t see her face because the woman was at an angle, looking down at Bree, the woman’s loose, dark hair falling past her shoulder blocking her face. Second, the way the woman spoke to Bree and handed her a bag her daughter opened and pulled out a frilly pink dress, a dress Em knew Bree would love.

  Em’s gaze veered to Bryce, sitting on the couch a foot away from where Bree and the woman stood. His stare on them, a smile spread across his face, looking proud to have his daughter and the woman making friends.

  Chest clenching, stomach tightening, a feeling of lightheadedness came over Em. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to, couldn’t peel her eyes away from the perfect picture they painted.

  She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before, why it never occurred to her he’d moved on. Maybe her mangled mind protecting her heart refused to acknowledge the possibility.

  Five years had passed. At thirty-four, maybe he’d changed and decided to settle down. Maybe he liked to have a steady woman, like he had her, and still liked to party on the side. Or maybe, just maybe, he loved the brunette. Maybe Em just hadn’t been enough for him. Maybe the brunette was.

  Her heart squeezed so tight she couldn’t breathe. Of their own accord, her eyes welled.

  The woman shifted. Her head shot up, and her hazel gaze landed on Em. The woman, Bryce’s woman, was stunning. Em didn’t know why it made a difference, beautiful or not, it wasn’t her.

  The magnitude of everything Em felt nearly knocked her off her feet. Another slap in the face, another reminder of how much Em cared. Despite what he’d done, despite the fact she left, she still loved him. She never stopped.

  “Hi.”

  Shit. She wanted to disappear, right at that moment. “Hi.”

  Smiling widely, the woman closed the distance between them until a mere foot away. “I’m Allie. You must be Em.”

  Allie, the beautiful brunette, further proved she was nice, easy-going, and had confidence, the type of natural confidence that came when a woman had a good life, a good upbringing, and had always felt secure in herself. It’s how she’d so easily been able to introduce herself to her man’s ex and the mother of his daughter, seemingly without a care in the world.

  “Yes.”

  “Mommy, look!”

  Thankful for the reprieve, Em slid her stare to Bree, holding the pretty, frilly dress over herself, the dress her father’s girlfriend gave her.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning it. “Did you say ‘thank you?’”

  Bree nodded.

  “She did, but there’s no need.”

  Of course, the gorgeous, kind woman would say that.

  “Allie!”

  Allie turned just in time to lean over and catch a small girl around Bree’s age as she crashed into her. The girl with dark-brown hair, wearing a pair of shorts, pink T-shirt, and mary-jane’s, wrapped her arms around Allie, hugging her tight.

  Laughing, Allie did the same. “Hey, Della, how was school?”

  The girl didn’t get a chance to answer. Trig, one of the brothers, strode into the living room. “Del, you keep running into Allie like that, you’re gonna knock her off her feet.”

  The girl, Della, faced Trig. When she turned back to Allie, her cheeks had gone rosy. “Sorry, Allie.”

  Allie tucked the girl’s hair behind her ear. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

  Trig closed the distance between himself, Allie, and Della. He then cupped the back of Allie’s head, dragged her to him, leaned down, and pressed his mouth to Allie’s.

  Em’s lips parted. Her gaze shifted to Bryce, sitting on the couch. His eyes glued to the TV. She looked at Allie and Trig in time to see Trig trail his mouth down Allie’s neck.

  “Missed you, baby.”

  He said it loud enough Em heard, loud enough Bryce had to have heard too, and Trig said it easily like he didn’t care who heard.

  Allie drew away from Trig and met his gaze. “Missed you, too, honey. How was your day?”

  Trig smiled. “Better now.”

  Oh, God. Thank God. Allie wasn’t Bryce’s but Trig’s. A weight lifted off her chest, Em took a deep breath.

  Trig looked down at Della. “You met Bree yet?”

  Della shook her head then introductions were made. Em learned Della was Trig’s niece, just eleven months older than Bree. Come Monday, they’d attend the same school. Bree, still only four was in pre-K, Della in kindergarten.

  Em’s gaze cut to her right as another brunette strode in, taller with green eyes wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted top that accentuated her small pregnant belly. In her hands, she held a casserole dish covered with aluminum foil. Clearly, she wasn’t a tap either. Who she belonged to revealed a moment later when a very annoyed looking Cuss appeared behind her, holding another large casserole dish. Five years ago, Cuss had been a prospect along with Trig and Army, and Cuss had a reputation—the biker who could bed any woman with one look. Now, he tailed this beautiful woman, not a tap, and clearly pregnant.

  His jaw hardened. “Baby girl.”

  The brunette stopped abruptly, smiled, and turned to him. “Thomas.”

  He lifted a brow. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

  “Because I can carry a tray of lasagna,” she shot back. From her voice, Emelia knew the brunette teased.

  Cuss, aka Thomas, narrowed his eyes, snaked his arm around the brunette’s waist, and tugged her to him until the dish she held in her hands hit his chest. “You’re treadin’ on thin ice, baby girl.”

  The brunette got on the tips of her toes and leaned up to press her lips against his. Being too short for his more than six-foot-tall frame, she waited.

  Cuss’s gaze went from her eyes to her lips then back to her stare. Finally, he slipped his arm from her waist to the back of her neck, clutching her as he simultaneously leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers. A long kiss, long enough he released her neck and removed the tray she held in her grasp. “Don’t push your luck, or I’ll be carrying your ass home.”

  The brunette turned and met Em’s stare, making her realize she’d been staring.

  She closed the distance between them and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Tiffany.”

  Em glanced down at it then shook it. “Emelia.”

  The pretty brunette, Tiffany, smiled. “I know. Nice to meet you.”

  Before she responded, Tiffany turned and greeted Allie, Trig, Bryce, Della, and finally introduced herself to Bree, making friends with Della.

  Taking the chance to leave, Emelia forced a smile. “Nice to meet you both, I should go. I have to get dinner started.”

  “No need. Tiff made lasagna. Trust me when I say you do not want to miss out on her lasagna. I guarantee it’s better than any lasagna you’ve ever had.” Allie smiled.

  “I don’t know about that, but I do know there’s plenty for you, Bree, and Rip,” Tiffany added.

  Emelia’s gaze went to Bryce, staring her way with those dead eyes. He hesitated a moment before shrugged. Losing sight of his eyes, she met Tiffany’s. “Thanks. Can I help you with anything?”

  “Lasagna’s done. I just need to put it in the oven and let it heat, but we’re making bruschetta and salad. You’re more than welcome to help us with that.”

  She nodded and followed Allie, Tiffany, and Cuss into the kitchen. Large and open concept, countertops lined the entirety and included a breakfast counter area leading into a dining room.

  Cuss loaded the lasagnas in the oven then kissed T
iffany square on the lips before he walked to the fridge and grabbed three beers, presumably for Trig, Bryce, and himself then left. Em turned to meet Tiffany and Allie’s gazes and waited for instruction. She never got them. Instead, she heard a very familiar voice.

  “So it’s true.”

  Em closed her eyes tightly and took a breath before turning to meet Mia’s gaze. A brunette with curves and spunk, Mia had started dating Stone a few months before Em left, but Stone didn’t hesitate to claim her. For those few months, Mia and she had been the only old ladies around. Naturally, they became good friends.

  When Em left, not only didn’t she tell Bryce or Chip, she never told Mia. She wanted to, but telling Mia or calling her after she settled in New Mexico was a risk, one she couldn’t take. Staring at Mia then, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She swallowed to fight the emotion.

  “When I heard, I couldn’t believe it.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that, so Em said nothing.

  “It’s been a long time, Em.”

  Finding her voice, she nodded. “Yeah, it has.”

  “Met Bree. She looks just like you.” Mia’s gaze traveled from the top of her head to her toes then back up again. “She’s a replica, except, of course, for her eyes.”

  This, she knew. Again, she said nothing.

  “Congrats.”

  “Thanks.”

  “See you’ve met Allie and Tiff.”

  Em nodded.

  “Things have changed quite a bit here. I’ll fill you in.”

  Not what she expected her to say. She expected Mia to be angry, like Bryce, like the brothers, like everyone except Allie and Tiffany, though she hadn’t expected them to be nice to her either. A surprise, a very pleasant one. She meant to say something but then another woman, a blonde with green eyes, wearing a pair of hip hugging jeans and a Harley tank, walked in.

  Smiling, the blonde closed the distance between them. “Em, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lynn.” Then the blonde, Lynn, did the strangest thing. She hugged her.

  Shocking, and nice, so nice, Em couldn’t help but return the hug. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”