I didn’t want to think that we had a traitor in the club and certainly not someone who was capable of beating Nitro to death. A few minutes later, he returned and placed his phone onto the coffee table before he took a seat next to me.
“You were sleeping so good that I didn’t want to wake you,” Trent explained as I leaned over and rested my head against his shoulder.
“I need to go to the store so I can pick up something for dessert. I promised Whistler I’d bring some for Gus.” Sitting up, I said, “That is, if we’re still going for dinner.”
“We’re going. Whistler texted me this morning and said Gus is excited we’re coming, and he wanted to make sure everything is still good.” I smiled, and he said, “We’ll leave early and pick something up on the way. I told Phantom we’d stop by the clubhouse after we finish.”
“Sounds good. I’m going to call Granny and see how the weather was for them last night.”
Trent stood and helped me to my feet before he tugged me against him and pressed his soft lips to mine. The kiss remained chaste before he brushed a fallen piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m going to check with Clay and see if everything’s been taken care of. There are some biscuits in the microwave I made this morning if you’re hungry.”
He pecked me on the lips again and turned to walk outside. The door closed, cutting off the chilly wind that was blowing in as I walked to the glass door. Trent walked down the stairs and out of my sight as he turned toward the barn.
Walking into the kitchen, I pulled the biscuits out of the microwave as I made a fresh cup of coffee. My phone was on the charger near the back door, and I picked it up and went to the table so I could eat and call Granny. Dialing her number, I put the phone on speaker as it rang while I tore a piece of bread and popped it into my mouth. She answered, and I took a swallow of coffee as she spoke.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Good morning, Granny. How’s the weather up there?” I inquired before eating another bite of bread.
“It stopped snowing early this morning.”
“That’s good. I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing.” The words sounded hollow and, as usual, Granny called me out.
“What’s bothering you?” she asked.
I didn’t want to worry her, but she was right, I was bothered. “I stopped by Quincey’s yesterday, and he said something that’s been on my mind since I left.”
“And what’s that?”
“Granny . . . do you know anything about missing girls?” I cautiously asked.
She cleared her throat. “I know through the years there’s been many Indigenous women who’ve gone missing, but most of the time, their families believe they started over somewhere else. Is that what you’re referring to?”
“I guess so,” I answered, not thinking we were speaking about the same thing.
“Is there something else you’re referring to?” she wondered over the phone.
“No, ma’am. I’m just trying to figure out why Trent’s father was coming up there a couple times a month without letting anyone know.” I paused then added, “Maybe I’m grasping at straws and this has nothing to do with what happened to him.”
“You don’t believe that. I can tell by the tone of your voice. So, I’m going to say this, and that will be the end of it.” I waited for her to continue. “Not one time have I believed any of the women who’ve disappeared went on to start a new life elsewhere. I’ve always thought there were bad people taking advantage of our mistrust of outsiders and using it to hurt women.”
I was stunned by her admission and asked, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“Who was I going to say something to? It’s just an opinion,” Granny reasoned, and I could see her point.
We spoke for another few minutes while we enjoyed our coffee, then she said she needed to get ready for her Sunday card game with some of the ladies. I wished her good luck, and we disconnected the call.
I went upstairs and started getting ready for our dinner at Whistler’s followed by an evening at the clubhouse. The entire time, all I could see were the faceless women who society never missed. The women who slipped through the cracks or were overlooked due to addiction or poor upbringing.
Then I looked in the mirror and knew I was one of the lucky ones.
Chapter 16
Roughstock
Spending the afternoon with Whistler and his family was a nice change of pace from our usual weekends. He had been less active in the club over the last few years, and seeing him so content gave me hope. Being a Royal Bastard was all I’d ever wanted to be, but some days, I wasn’t as sure as I once was. After dinner, Cheyenne and Gus played cards for a little while the rest of us watched with laughter.
Leaving, Gus gave Cheyenne a hug and a simple kiss on the cheek. She smiled at him as we said goodbye, and from the rear-view mirror, I saw him waving at us as we pulled away. The snow had already been cleared from the surface streets as we maneuvered through Rapid City. Being a fairly small town, whose size mushroomed every year around the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally, it was nice when the roads were mostly empty.
