Page 38 of Indie
“Church. You said to those bikers back there you had a church meeting tonight.”
I chuckled, the sensation dislodging the weight of worry that had sat on my shoulders all the way home and I reached forward and kissed her forehead, savouring the taste of her skin, of the slight saltiness that had gathered under the helmet, despite the coolness of the breeze that had threatened us on the ride back.
“What?” she asked, her eyes even more beautiful when she wasn’t sure.
“Thank you for just being you, Emmie,” I whispered to the top of her head as I pulled her in against me. “Church just means a meeting of the bike club, Spuggy. It’s just what we call it.”
“So, no prayers, then?”
“Nope. But we don’t mind a sacrifice occasionally.”
“Don’t think that’s very religious.”
“Just depends which one you’re talking about.” I shrugged, watching the creep of a frown cross her face. “Anyway, don’t you have kids to collect?”
Emmie stepped back, glancing at her watch, that little frown teasing at her lips again.
“Guess it’s that time again,” she mumbled and then she looked up at me, the sea-green of her eyes twinkling. “I enjoyed today, Indie. Thank you. I’ve not been on a date, in, well, nearly in forever.”
“A date, huh? Is that what that was?” She chewed on her lip, looking suddenly uncertain and now I felt guilty, knowing my words had made her doubt herself. “Today can be whatever you want it to be, Spuggy, as long as there are more days like today. More dates, or whatever you want to call them.”
She smiled faintly, but still with that hint of vulnerability. And that pained me to see that even with our closeness growing, that she was still so unsure. Whereas I was never as sure of someone in my life.
*****
“Got pulled over by the Vandals today.” I opened the meeting, my eyes scanning the faces that sat around the table. “Just south of Holy Island.”
“What were you doing that far north, anyway?” Demon asked, not worried about showing his dissatisfaction at being called to church at short notice.
“That doesn’t matter. What does is that they were doing spot checks of unidentified riders.”
“How come they couldn’t identify you?” Magnet sat across from me. “Thought we’d stood down security level one?”
“My cut was covered.”
“How?” Magnet continued, looking as confused as the majority around the table and totally missing the importance.
“Might want to ask him, by who?” Demon teased, leaning back in the wooden seat, and folding his arms across his chest, a challenge on his face.
I sighed. “Emmie was on the back. They couldn’t see my colours.”
“Emmie?” Cade repeated like an unwanted echo, glancing at his brother. The carbon copy sat beside him.
“Yes, Emmie. I took her out for the day, ok. The Vandals pulled me over. Wasn’t till I got off that they could see who I was.”
“Emmie is the lass he’s had the prospects watching these last few weeks,” Demon added, clearly finding my discomfort entertaining. “And the ex of the man whose ribs I broke, a week or two ago.”
“Hope she’s a good fuck then,” Caleb answered, the response more to his brother than to me. “Cos I still have a car he hasn’t fixed yet, and it sounds rough as fuck.”
“Enough. You’re all missing the point.”
“Doesn’t sound like Indie’s lass is, though.”
The room erupted into laughter, and I might have been slightly amused if any of the jibes had been even remotely justified.
“Look. The Vandals are worried.” I tried to restore order in the room.
“They’re always fucking worried,” Demon complained. “Tomahawk spends too much time smoking wacky backy, he’s always fucking paranoid some ones coming for him.”