Page 118 of Broken
Her look says that is what she is thinking. “It doesn’t mean I have to stay. I can get clients here.”
“Sure, there is no reason you can’t,” I check my watch again.
“Oh shit, I’m going to be late for work. I need to shower.”
“I don’t know, Vixen,” I revert to the guy I was before she read that letter. “I kind of like the idea of you walking around with my scent all over you.”
Calli rubs her lips together and shuffles a little. I can’t see past her waist but it’s obvious she’s clenching her thighs.
As I walk along the hallway to the front door, I can’t help but pause at the drawing on the wall. Calli comes out of the kitchen holding her coffee and watches me. She told me last night this is the building they want her to go back for.
It’s a beautiful design that should come to life. For the first time since seeing her work, I hate it. I dip my chin, and she gives me a small smile. Then I get the hell out of there before she sees what is written all over my face.
I don’t want her to go.
I double check the address information again when I pull up to the two-story family home.
This can’t be right. There is a Harley Davidson at the far end of the driveway, up against the side of the house. I recognize it straight away. It’s Nero’s. Damn, this is a nice house and not at all what I expected for the President of a one percenter motorcycle club.
He’s never invited me into his personal home before. When he sent me the address earlier and told me to be here at seven, I hadn’t questioned it. He took my thoughts off Calli, and what she is going to do.
If she goes back to San Antonio to do this job, I’m not convinced she’ll come back. It’s not easy to push her from my mind, especially given the reason I’m here to speak to Nero at all is because of Calli. Whatever job he has for me comes second.
The doorbell chimes and I wait on the porch, hearing the sound of boots approaching. Nero is shirtless when he pulls the door back. He has tattoos on every inch of his chest and arms, there isn’t a single space of un-inked skin.
“Hey, thanks for coming.”
“Sure,” I respond. He turns and goes inside. I follow and close the door.
The house is as nice inside as out. We pass a few rooms on either side of the hallway and head for the kitchen at the back. Nero grabs a T-shirt and pulls it on. He turns to face me. What is that look about?
A squeal from the left side of the kitchen draws my attention. A kid is sitting on the ground in some kind of plastic kid prison, filled with toys. He’s maybe two or three, I’m not good guessing kids ages. He’s old enough to say ‘hi’ and wave at me.
“I’m trusting you with this.”
Nero steps up beside me and looks at the kid. I don’t take my eyes off him as his expression softens.
“He’s yours?”
Nero swipes a hand over the stubble on his chin, watching the kid. “Yeah. I share custody, she had to go out.”
What the hell do I say to that? It says a lot he is asking me to keep this secret.
“No one else knows?”
“Rebel and Speedway.”
Rebel is the club’s VP. It’s Speedway who is a surprise. He’s one the of the most vocal members in the club. He’s always stirring shit up. Likes to think he’s funny too.
“His mom is Speedway’s sister.”
That explains it. It doesn’t matter who Nero has let in on this, only that they never talk about it. Being the kid’s uncle will do that. I vaguely recall meeting Speedway’s sister once. She came to a party, and he did nothing but bitch and moan about her leaving.
Was that when this happened? The kid seems about the right age. I think.
“Does this have anything to do with the job?” I ask, nodding toward the kid.
Nero laughs. “Anyone else would be asking questions. His name at least.”
