“No one else was going to warn you.” Because the club didn’t worry about the hurt feelings of one member’s daughter. No amount of personal bullshit could touch the MC…well, it wasn’t supposed to, anyway. Aidan, as he studied her, became almost sympathetic, his features tight and somber as he gauged her reaction. “But I thought you should know that he’s here.”
She nodded. “Thanks.” Swallowed hard, her throat dry and sticking together. She felt the pavement shift under her feet; felt her lungs contract and her face grow hot.
She hadn’t counted on this, not at all. No part of her coming-home fantasies had included this kind of shock.
Clueless, Ronnie fiddled her with hand and said, “Who’s here?”
“Mercy,” she whispered, and just saying his name sent the waves of pain heaving through her again.
“Who?”
“Just…Mercy.”
Her ultimate ruination.
Two
Here. He washere. How could she have been so stupid as to think he wouldn’t be? Of course he was here. Knoxville had been his home for years. All those ill-fated years when she’d been growing up and he’d been watching out for her, when no one had suspected a thing…until the scandal of it all had erupted, bleeding all over everything, leaving stains behind no amount of bleach had been able to scrub out.
Bleach, she thought with a maniacal inner laugh. Mercy was always in need of a gallon of bleach.
“Ouch,” Ronnie said, and she realized she was digging her fingernails into the back of his hand.
“Sorry.” She let go of him, and used both hands to smooth her hair back, lift it away from her neck so the breeze could cool the skin and help calm her nerves. She needed a drink; she neededtendrinks. How in the hell was she supposed to face everyone in this clubhouse when her wicked lover was just across the room, and every soul between them knew all the sordid details of the past?
She didn’t know, but she didn’t have a choice at this point. Her mom was waiting, and so were Bonita and Jaclyn, Nell and Mina. Then there would be her dad, and all her surrogate uncles.
She didn’t have time for Mercy; she’d fall to bits if she allowed herself one more second to dwell on him. Back, down, away – she crammed him and her history with him into a far mental corner.No, not you, not now, not ever again. She gave herself a good shake and dropped her hair, turned a brittle smile up to Ronnie.
Oh, God, Ronnie. Her poor boyfriend who wasn’t cut out for any of this. She had to get her shit together, for Ronnie if not for herself.
“You alright?” she asked him.
His brows knotted together, forehead crinkling. “Yeah. Areyou?”
“I’m great!” She hated how insincere that sounded, but all she could do was reach for his hand again and lead the way into the clubhouse. “Come on, my mom can’t wait to meet you.”
Inside, the house was cool and smelled liked lemon furniture polish. They stepped into the foyer, which was tricked out to hold the outdoor paraphernalia of a whole pack of men. Long horizontal coatracks bolted into the wall, low bench with plenty of boot storage, a shoe-cleaning brush, umbrella stand – for the intrepid umbrella-wielding biker – and a hand-lettered sign that read “Forget the Dog, Beware of Owner.”
“Dog?” Ronnie asked. “Do they have a–”
As if on cue, Ares came barreling around the corner, nails scratching at the linoleum as he sought purchase and then hurtled toward them.
“Jesus Christ!” Ronnie grabbed her arm, like he was preparing to drag her away to safety.
Ava shook him off, laughing, and dropped to her knees to greet the exuberant German Shepard.
He was, in her eyes, the most beautiful dog, his thick coat layered in rich browns and blacks, his black nose gleaming at the end of his long black snout, his eyes bright and sparking with recognition and joy. She loved his pointed ears, the lustrous ruff spilling down his chest, his heavy paws, his swishing furry tail. He was a gorgeous dog, with a gorgeous set of curving ivory teeth that glimmered in the incoming sunlight as he rushed into her arms and swatted her with a playful paw, licking at her face, his tail thumping hard against the floor.
“Hi, baby!” Ava gave him a rigorous petting, dropping a kiss between his keen black eyes. “How are you, huh? You good? You look good.”
“Ava? Baby?” A hopeful female voice called from deeper inside. “Is that you?”
Maggie.
“Hi, Mom!” she called back, standing with one last pat for Ares. The big dog shook his collar, tag jangling, and headed into the common room, leading the way as always.
She cast a glance toward Ronnie – his eyes were round and white-rimmed, his complexion stark against his dark brows and hair – then followed Ares.
