Page 81 of Caution to the Wind

They were fuckin’ beautiful together. Always had been.

It shouldn’t’a rocked me the way it did, maybe, given I didn’t give a fuck about Mei anymore. I told myself as I stalked back down the hall into the kitchen and livin’ room that it was just the shock of seein’ her again at all.

But my heart was beatin’ a tattoo on the inside of my ribcage, and I didn’t know what shape it would take, fearin’ it’d have somethin’ to do withher.

The girl I’d gone to prison protectin’.

The girl who’d fuckin’ abandoned us.

“Whoa there.” Harleigh Rose’s voice broke into my thoughts, pullin’ my gaze to where she was sittin’ on the butcher block island chewin’ a piece of Hubba Bubba gum that snapped between her teeth. “You look ready to bludgeon someone to death with your bare hands.”

I grunted, too frustrated to find the words for everythin’ rollin’ around inside me.

But I felt her eyes track me as I braced my hands on the counter before the sink so I could stare out at the calm turquoise of Lake Mead. It was the reason I’d bought the plot of land and encouraged the club to invest in the surroundin’ acreage. This kinda beauty deserved to remain unspoilt by developers and the slow spread of Entrance spillin’ bigger and bigger over the valley between mountaintops.

It was the kinda beauty Cleo and I deserved after all the ugly we’d left behind in Calgary.

“Axe-Man?” Harleigh Rose was closer now, not touchin’, ’cause she wasn’t like that, but close to comfort, voice pitched low and soft instead of its usual brassy, confident drawl. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so mad, not counting when we couldn’t find Cleo. What’s wrong? Should I call Dad?”

“No,” I said, ’cause Zeus would just laugh, probably thinkin’ this was some kinda fucked-up fate, and I couldn’t escape it. For an outlaw with a record and blood on his hands, Zeus Garro was bizarrely romantic.

Then again, his romance with Loulou would turn anyone into a fuckin’ sap.

H.R. hesitated, then perched her hips beside mine, body facin’ the opposite way into the kitchen. “Does this mood have anything to do with the pretty Asian girl who visited Cleo in the hospital a few weeks ago?”

“Damn brothers,” I muttered. “They gossip worse than high school kids.”

She laughed, head tipped back just like her father. “Ain’t that the truth? Boner was so mad he didn’t get a glimpse of her. He offered fifty bucks to anyone who’d tip him off to where she was at if she showed up again.”

My scowl deepened, gaze cuttin’ to H.R. to see she was watchin’ me with an arched brow, one of those knowin’, feminine smiles on her mouth.

“She meant somethin’ to you once?” she asked, ’cause even if news of Mei’s visit had made the rounds, I knew Bat, Smoke, and Z wouldn’t share my history without permission, and even curious, none of the brothers or their women wanted to bother me with gossip when I was still dealin’ with everythin’ that had happened to Cleo.

“Once,” I acknowledged tersely.

She hummed, blowin’ a pink bubble, then poppin’ it with a snap. “Unresolved history’s got a way of comin’ back to haunt us.”

“Bit young to be dolin’ out wisdom, H.R.”

“Hey, age has got shit all to do with it. I’m marrying the love of my life in six weeks, I’ve got a great job, a kick-ass hound and house, and I’m generally amazing. You should bebeggingme for life advice.”

I snorted ’cause it was impossible not to be charmed by Harleigh Rose. She’d been raised around bikers her whole life, so she knew the language and religion of a biker and his club. Talkin’ to her was like shootin’ the shit with one of the brothers, only she was smart in that way of women who seemed to inherently understand emotions and shit I’d always struggled to put words to as if she’d been born with them on her tongue.

It was a dangerous combination ’cause it made you want to open up to her, and I liked bein’ closed off just fine.

“I know you like doing things yourself,” she said, readin’ my mind in that eerie way. “I know you think at the end of the day the only one you can rely on is yourself, and I know it because I used to be like that, too. Some people would call you a martyr, maybe, but I think you’ve just been alone so long you can’t see what’s right in front of you.” She shifted, those bright blue eyes as sharp as broken glass cutting to the heart of me. “A brotherhood and a family who’ve all got your back.”

“You think I don’t know that when you’re here after a long shift at the hospital to be with my girl ’cause she needs community? I must look dumber than I thought.”

“Not dumb,” she mused with a quirk of her mouth. “Just stubborn.”

“Year of the tiger.”

H.R. had a knife from the butcher’s block in her hand and levelled in Mei’s direction before I could move.

“Who the fuck are you?” she demanded and then seemed to draw the conclusion herself because there was a little bit of wonder in her voice when she said, “Mei?”

Mei’s smile was flat and flimsy as pressed tin. “Pleasure to meet you. I meant no offense”—she gestured to the knife—“when I said year of the tiger. It’s just in his nature to be stubborn and solitary.”