“It’s…” I lift my eyes to his. “You kept it the same?”
He shrugs. “Of course, I did. This is your home, Rox.”
Entering the room, I drop the box I’m carrying on the floor. Shuffle does the same with the bags in his hand, and I jump at the noise. Quickly masking the reaction, I face him.
“I think I’m gonna take a shower,” I say, desperate to be alone.
He jerks a nod. “Yeah, okay.”
My brother turns to walk away, but I stop him. “Hey, um…” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Where’s my bike?”
Shuffle grins, and for the first time since he hugged me, it reaches his eyes. “It’s in the garage behind the clubhouse.”
“Ridable?”
“Yeah.”
Relief floods my system. I wasn’t lying when I told him I was going to shower, but as soon as I’m done, I’m riding. Ineedto ride.
“Great.” I twist my hands. “Thanks.”
“Want me to ride with you?” he asks, his tone hopeful.
“Nah.” I shake my head. “I think I just want to be alone.”
Pointing a finger at me, his expression instantly hardens. “That shit’s gotta stop,” he snaps. “You’re not alone, Rox. Never have been and never will be.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” I insist.
“Bullshit.”
“Ryan, please.” I rub my temples to stave off the forming migraine. “I don’t want to fight with you. I just… Give me some time to settle in before?—”
“Before what?” he snaps. “Before I demand the truth? Before I call you out on every single lie you’ve told me the last few days? What the fuck do you want from me, Rox?”
Staring at the floor, I let a tear fall from my eye. “I want…” I lift my head and level my gaze at him. “I just want a place to lick my wounds.”
His eyes narrow. “Fine. Lick ‘em. But if you leave after, don’t think you’ll be able to roll up in here again like nothing happened.”
With that, he storms out of my room, yanking the door shut behind him. His retreating footsteps filter through the barrier, but it’s only seconds before I hear them thudding back to my room.
“Rox, your bike is good to ride, but it should be looked over before you go too far,” he says, his voice low. “You’re fine today, but when you’re ready, I’ll take you to the shop in town, and we’ll get it serviced, okay?”
I know he won’t leave until I respond, so I say, “Okay.” Again, his footsteps thud in retreat. “Thanks, Ryan,” I whisper to myself before heading to the shower.
CHAPTER 8
SCREAMER
I get the feeling that being tuned into things about this particular woman is going to cause me a world of trouble.
“Have a good one.”
Another satisfied customer walks out of the shop, and I sag onto the stool behind the counter. When I’m not neck deep in club business, I’m here working on bikes. I’m fucking exhausted, and I don’t see a light at the end of this particular tunnel. Not that I mind. Exhaustion is better than keyed up from memories and nightmares.
The door between the front and back of the shop swings open, and Journey steps through. “What the hell are you doing?”
I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. “Nothing.”
