Page 4 of Saint (Soulless Outlaws Motorcycle Club #1)

Ophelia

The first four weeks in our new home went like this.

We were able to find some brand-new mattresses that a store was tossing because there was a slash in the materials on the sides.

Sheets would be covering that, so I wasn’t worried about it.

At Goodwill, we were able to get pots, pans, cups, and plates, and at the dollar store, we were able to get everything else.

The woods behind the house had helped a lot.

Because every evening, we had a fire in the fireplace if the blankets we had didn’t keep us warm.

And thanks to our neighbors, Mr. and Mrs. Robbins, Mr. Robbins had come out while I was chopping wood and damn near chewed my head off for doing it.

Therefore, he took over for me, and the way he asked me to pay him back, I chuckled at it every time I thought about it.

Letting him spend time with Soraya.

In front of me, of course.

Mr. and Mrs. Robbins were never able to have children.

He had served in the Vietnam War when he was eighteen until he was twenty-two. He happened to be a prisoner of war, and he was tortured.

An infection had set in by the time they got him out, and it had spread by the time he had been taken to Japan and then brought back to the United States.

My heart broke when they shared this story with me one night while we ate dinner with them.

Seeing the beautiful home they had and all the colors, I had promised my daughter, after I talked to the landlord, that we would be painting her room when I got my first paycheck.

Yes, I was able to find a job as a waitress at Wilson’s.

Wilson’s was a diner.

And thanks to our neighbors, whom I had dubbed our guardian angels, they were watching Soraya first thing in the morning, and Mr. Robbins was taking her to school for me.

I worked at the diner from five-thirty until one-thirty in the afternoon.

Thankfully, Mr. Wilson believed that a waitress shouldn’t have to rely solely on tips.

So, I got five dollars and thirty cents an hour plus tips.

And seeing as Wilson’s was the only diner in town, the place never slowed down.

Also, it was the only place that served hot food and hot coffee.

Yes, with my first paycheck and some pretty good tips, we were able to paint Soraya’s room.

Now... my girl can be a girly girl. However, her favorite color isn’t pink or purple. Nope, not my girl. It’s sage green.

And it looked beautiful on her walls.

I was also able to get a few knick-knacks to decorate the house, seeing as it was closing in on Thanksgiving.

***

Seeing as I was off today, I had promised Soraya that we would be going into town today and getting hot cocoa that Mr. Wilson served.

It was made with fresh milk, melted chocolate, mini marshmallows, crushed candy canes, and whipped cream.

Which was what the two of us were doing at this very moment.

Soraya had just taken a sip of hers when she lowered the mug.

I had to bring my own up to cover my face.

However, I hadn’t made it in time.

Because Soraya looked at me and asked with a smile on her face, “What?”

I grinned, “You’ve got a mustache.”

She giggled, “Monnie, girls don’t have those.”

I lifted my brow, set my mug down, then opened my purse and pulled out a mirror.

The moment she saw her face in the reflection, she gasped, and then she started giggling while saying, “Monnie, you have to do it too. You don’t want me to be the only cool one, do you?”

I shook my head at my girl, and god forbid I ever did anything that would make my daughter stop being cheerful.

Therefore, I followed suit and ensured that I also had a mustache to match hers.

Our giggles caught the eyes of the people in the diner, and just like that, everyone who had the hot cocoa made sure they also had mustaches.

I had just looked back at my daughter after laughing when I heard it.

I looked out the window, and that was when a rumble filled the diner.

Soraya looked at me with frightened eyes; my head whipped around, and that was when I saw it.

A pack of motorcycles driving slowly by the diner.

I watched them go by just as everyone else did.

And I noticed a few of the younger girls pulling their tops down.

I shook my head at them, then looked at my daughter.

“It’s okay. I promise. Remember what Mr. Robbins said a few days ago?”

She nodded, then smiled.

He had told us about the local motorcycle club.

They were considered one percenters, and they had fought with their blood, sweat, and tears to put a stop to human trafficking in this town and the four surrounding counties around us.

They had been successful.

I also recalled the few times I had seen them come into the diner.

And one of them in particular... I didn’t need to go there.

Not today.

Not when today was all about my daughter.

Besides, what business did I have of getting fanciful thoughts about a man?

That’s right... none.

I tapped Soraya on the top of her nose and winked at her, “Besides, would I ever let anything happen to you?”

She snickered then shook her head.

And sadly, I watched as a soft look came over her face.

I knew what she was thinking.

The one time he had tried to raise his hand to her, I had thrown my body in front of hers.