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“Gray and I have a daughter. Penelope. She’s the sweetest girl ever.

” Lark’s whole being suffuses with light as she tells me about Penny—her school, how she’s funny and quirky, brave and so loving and kind, how everyone at the club adores her.

There’s something that she’s not saying, and I can’t read what it is.

But even in her happiness, there are brief shadows lurking between the lines.

“I was born in Hart, raised in Hart, and I guess you could call me a biker queen, since Gray is Prez of the club, but that kind of thing still makes me uncomfortable.” Her long lashes drop with her eyes as she blushes.

“Not because I don’t love the club or because I’m not fully invested.

I am. I just don’t like being elevated above anyone else.

I’m kind of a small town girl and always will be at heart. ”

I can’t imagine that any women who belong to other clubs—or at least are with men who are legit one percenters—are like this. These women’s kindness, humility, and grace flow into the room. I expected their presence to smother me but having them here is strangely reassuring.

I miss my old life very much. I miss my friends, my community, my art, my calling. After being forced to give it all up, I was stubborn in my bitterness and didn’t want to find strings anywhere else, but the first invisible tether tugs at my heart.

“I teach at one of the community colleges here,” Ella says after Lark is finished.

“Seriously?” Wow . This is how I die, choking on my own awkwardness and from boiling in the heat of embarrassment. “I mean, that’s just… Wow .”

She laughs and points out the patch on the sleeve of her jacket, which I now see says, Property of Raiden. “I don’t dress like this in class.”

“I didn’t mean that you couldn’t teach because you’re into bikes and stuff. It’s just a lot of education to get to the point of becoming a professor. And not that there’s any correlation between commitment and intelligence and… uh… I’m just going to stop now.”

Ella is so sweet and easygoing that she doesn’t even seem to mind.

“I get what you’re saying. It’s a lot of work, that’s for sure.

A huge commitment, and definitely a lot of years in academics before you get where you want to be.

I mentioned that I brought some books for you.

I’m not sure if you’ll like them, and if you don’t, that’s totally fine.

Don’t feel obligated to read them. There’s quite a mix in there.

And don’t worry about giving them back. I have way too many. ”

“I like Greek myths,” I blurt before wishing I could stuff that back inside too.

Dravin hasn’t exactly drilled into me what our cover should be other than the basics. Surely that’s a broad enough thing to like, though, isn’t it?

Ella squeals and claps her hands. “Oooh, we are going to get along just fine!”

“Bullet is into ancient Roman stuff. I’m not very good at anything but law, but I could ask him for pointers if you ever wanted to include me in future conversations,” Lynette offers with far more humility than I knew any lawyer could.

“Before you launch into this huge lecture on ancient cultures, let me at least say that if you ever want any antique or vintage stuff for this place, or if you’re into vintage clothes…

” Willa eyes my t-shirt. “I have a huge antique store. I’d love to hook you up with anything you might like, or if you want to just come and look, I’ll give you the family and friends discount. ”

That’s nice of her to say. I’m not family. I’m not even a friend.

But I am here now. I’m not a ghost. I’m not hiding. I’m not afraid to be in my own skin. That means something. It means a fuck of a lot more than I could have comprehended in my old life.

I didn’t want this, but being here with these women has already started to heal something inside of me that I thought was irrevocably broken forever. I guess after a year of isolation, I didn’t remember just how powerful humanity could be.

Shit, now I’m getting sappy and looking at the room through a sheen of tears. “Thanks. I’d love to check it out.”

The whole room doesn’t do a collective sigh of relief because I took forever to answer. They just give me time.

“If you ever need your hair done, I’d be happy to have the chance to do something amazing for you. I own a salon downtown.”

Ahh. The gorgeous pink hair makes sense now. Tarynn can do that for herself because that’s her job.

“Yes!” I don’t care what Dravin has to say about it.

I’m immediately going to take Tarynn up on her offer.

Hair and makeup was never my be all end all, but I really miss that form of artistry and expression.

If choosing something for myself could make me feel more like me, even if that’s not the old me and it’s some new, unlearned, slightly scary version, then it’s something I want to claim back.

“I’ll phone tomorrow and book an appointment.

I’ve been dying to do something. Anything.

I don’t know what it is, but maybe you do? ”

Tarynn shoots me the most confident smile. “I think we could work magic.”

“You all make me sound so boring. I guess you already know I’m a lawyer,” Lynette offers in her steady voice that is somehow relaxing just listening to it.

She gives the impression of total competence.

In her profession, that’s probably a good thing.

It would be great to hire her, knowing for certain that she’ll get you out of whatever mess you’re in.

“I used to do criminal law, but I work for the club now.”

I barely refrain from snarking that she’s still heavily into criminal stuff then.

The corner of her mouth tilts up like she knows what I’m thinking, and she’s perfectly okay with snarky, because she knows that it’s true.

Whatever misgivings she might have had about bending the law for the club or bending her own morals and stretching her oaths, love clearly won out in the end.

There’s still enough of the old me deep down inside that I get misty eyed over that too. I don’t know why I always fell so hard for everyone else’s love stories and at the same time, was too realistic to think I’d ever have one of my own.

“I teach school,” Haley offers. “I think I said that already. Did I?” She laughs. “Anyway. Kindergarten. I absolutely love it.”

“Oh my god, you’re a freaking hero,” I gasp. “Your bravery is unparalleled.”

The room erupts in laughter. “I get what you mean. Some days, it’s a lot knowing that I have twenty to thirty little humans to keep alive.

I blow off steam at the end of the day by baking.

It’s something I’ve always loved to do. If I wasn’t a teacher, I’d probably want to own my own place, although turning your hobby into work is probably a good way to ruin it. ”

“I’m sure that’s not the only way you blow off steam,” Ella jokes. “Gunner might have something to do with that.”

“Ask them about their love story sometime.” Willa leaps off the couch. “It’s so freaking out there and incredible and amazing, but no offense, Dil- Haley, I’m starving.”

She was totally about to use a different name.

A club name?

A nickname?

Or maybe I’m not the only one with a past I don’t want known.

If that’s true, Haley doesn’t allow those shadows I saw outside to creep up on her and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Is it okay if we move to the kitchen? The smell of that bread has been making my mouth water ever since I picked it up.”

It’s nice of them to ask instead of just taking over the place, even though I’m obviously the most incapable hostess. “Sure.”

“I brought sparkling water for you, Lynette,” Lark says as she stands and smooths her dress down, brushing imaginary wrinkles. The flowing fabric somehow outlines her tiny frame instead of swallowing her.

“You have no idea how much that means.”

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you.”

“We all do.” Willa kisses her sister’s cheek after leaping up, and they all move as a throng towards the kitchen.

They have to go one at a time through the narrow doorway and I’m last, but I quickly takeover, grabbing plates and glasses out of the cupboards.

I do wonder, as I’m setting it all down on the table amidst the food and bottles of wine being pulled out of bags and arranged, the cupcakes revealed in all their mouthwatering chocolate glory, who picked the things out that we’re using?

It’s a small thing and probably a weird thought, but it reminds me of all the history that was here before I ever arrived. A few days ago, I would have staunchly said it was a history that I wouldn’t be a part of adding to, but now, I’m not so sure.

While the women fill their plates and do up a few with the oil and vinegar mixture to dip the bread, they change the subject to the old ladies. There are a few that aren’t here, because they’re away for summer with their kids, or had other obligations. I guess not all of them are so young.

The kitchen is flooded with the fresh scent of bread, salt, sugar, and the floral, sweeter scents of these women themselves.

Ella glances around and clears her throat.

It’s almost like a warning, a heads up for me that I’m not going to enjoy what she has to say.

I have a plate in my hand with some bread on it, a few olives, and a scattering of deli meat.

I haven’t eaten any of it yet. My stomach constricts, making me glad that I held out because I was too busy soaking up every single word being said, trying to commit it to memory to build a better picture of the world that I’m just skirting the fringes of.

“Even the prospects at the club usually pick club names. There’s talk at the place of giving Dravin one, but you should probably interject. The monikers have been utterly atrocious so far.”