Page 19

CLOVER

The landscape outside my window blurs as we drive, red earth and distant mountains passing by under a brilliant blue sky. We’ve been on the road for a couple of hours now, and the tightness in my chest has finally started to loosen.

Just a little.

I’ve cried myself out for now, though I know the tears are still there, just below the surface.

Phoenix hasn’t said much since we left. He’s kept his hands at ten and two on the steering wheel, his face set like stone, only his eyes betraying him as they flick to the rearview mirror every few minutes—like he’s still trying to see home, even though it vanished a long time ago.

“You okay?” I ask, my voice sounding rough even to my ears.

He glances over at me, then back to the road. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

I shrug, tucking my legs up under me on the seat. “You’re allowed to not be okay, too, you know?”

His lips twitch into what might almost be a smile. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.” I snort.

He stifles a laugh. It’s short but genuine. “Takes one to know one.”

The air around us falls quiet again, but it’s different now. Less heavy. The radio plays a more alternative tune than the popular Taylor Swift song that broke the ice earlier. Phoenix reaches out to turn it up just slightly, his fingers tapping the steering wheel in time to the beat.

Who knew he’d be into “Beautiful Things” by Benson Boone?

Smiling to myself, I glance down at my cell. “According to the map, our first stop should be coming up in about five minutes,” I inform him, seeing our little truck moving on the digital screen. “Elmer’s Bottle Tree Ranch.”

Phoenix turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “The what now?”

Chuckling, I drop my cell in my lap and focus on him. “It’s this weird but amazing art installation. This dude Elmer spent decades collecting bottles and turning them into these metal tree sculpture things. The whole place is full of them, literally hundreds of glass bottles hanging from metal poles.” I feel my face light up with the excitement flowing through me as I sit taller. “And when the sun hits them just right…” I bring my hands up, extending my fingers for emphasis, “… they cast these incredible colored shadows and reflections.” I feel myself getting animated as I explain. “It’s going to be so freaking perfect for the marketing campaign.” I bring my thumb to my mouth, biting it in my excitement with the biggest smile crossing my face.

But Phoenix glances at me quickly, a faint smile crossing his lips, his brow furrowed as he looks at me like I’m just a stupid kid. “Sounds different ,” he states, the skepticism clear in his voice.

An instant wave of embarrassment smacks me straight in the chest. Sitting back in my seat, I clear my throat, my eyes shifting to gaze out the window instead of letting him see how disappointed I am. “You shouldn’t knock it till you see it. It’s exactly the kind of quirky roadside attraction that will make this campaign stand out.”

“If you say so,” he murmurs.

Scrunching my brows, I huff.

Asshole.

“I do!” I snap back, feeling defensive.

He doesn’t respond, and as I continue to stare out at the sand passing us by, it does nothing to help my aggravation.

Our family is home, preparing to fight for their lives, and I am stuck in a truck with this dick who’s treating me like shit for no real reason.

Fuck this!

Spinning in my seat to face him again, I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him. “This isn’t just some fun road trip, Wes. This is my first job during my internship. A real job that could lead to an amazing career!”

Phoenix turns to look at me, his expression hardens, and suddenly, he pulls the truck off the side of the road and to an abrupt stop. A swirl of dirt and dust plumes behind us as he skids into the sandy earth.

Widening my eyes, I gasp. “What the fuck?”

He spins to face me, his attention completely on me now, the brightness of his intense blue eyes bore into mine, suddenly making me feel all kinds of weak at the knees.

He cranes his neck to the side, his hand coming up to rub the pressure building in the muscles of his neck. “First of all, you can’t call me Wes. You know the rules, Clo. I have a Road Name, and unless you’re family or my Old Lady, of which you are neither, you do not get to call me Wes.”

I swallow a lump in my throat at the seriousness of his tone.

“Secondly, and most importantly,” he hesitates, taking a breath, his eyes leaving mine for a brief moment, before turning back to me, his expression softer now, more sincere. “I swear I’m not trying to be an asshole. It’s just taking every ounce of physical strength I have in me not to turn this truck around and protect my sister. To fight with my brothers, but I know I can’t.”

My shoulders slump in understanding as I subtly nod at him.

“I do want to see your bottle… statue… things—”

“Bottle Tree Ranch,” I help him out.

He chuckles, tilting his head, his hand sliding out and taking mine. The instant our hands touch, it’s like my insides burst into flames, my entire body feeling like it is far too hot. “I want to see Bottle Tree Ranch with you, Clo. I want to be on this trip to Vegas with you. I want to be the one protecting you. Just know that if I have moments of assholery, it’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with my mind being back home.”

A slow smile crosses my lips, and I sigh. “Okay, for an apology, that one gets, I dunno, a solid four.”

He chuckles, his gorgeous smile crossing his face, shining brighter than the morning sun. “Out of five?”

I snort, shake my head, and let out a mocking laugh. “God no, out of ten.”

His eyes widen, feigning shock as he turns back to the steering wheel, nodding matter-of-factly. “Oh, all right, I see how it is, little miss hardass. I gotta up my game next time.” He chuckles, turning on his signal, then pulls back out onto the road.

Smirking, I fold my arms across my chest. “You plan on having to apologize to me often?” I quip.

He side-eyes me, a mischievous grin crossing his face. “I’m a man, Clo. I’m sure I’m gonna do something else stupid on this trip that I am gonna need to apologize for.”

“Can’t argue with that,” I mumble under my breath. “Oh fuck! Turn here,” I practically yell at him.

His eyes widen. “Wait, here?”

“Yes, dude, here!” I scream, pointing at the road dramatically, almost blocking his view.

“Jesus, fuck.” He turns the wheel frantically. “Sit down, woman.” We almost miss the turnoff. A car honks frantically behind us as I burst into a fit of hysterics, landing back in my seat.

He straightens up the truck, calming his breathing as I continue to giggle in my seat beside him. He slowly turns to look at me, shaking his head.

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m in more danger being here with you than back at the clubhouse?” he teases.

Smiling, I giggle, unbuckling my seat belt. “What? Do I scare you?” I taunt. Then I move through the middle of the seats, my ass sticking out right next to his head as I gather my equipment that’s sitting on the back seat—my camera, tripod, and the small portable light I brought just in case.

A low growl reverbs from him, and I risk a glance over my shoulder to catch him staring at my ass. I can’t fight the smile that crosses my face. “Eyes on the road, Wes,” I quip.

He huffs, his hand gripping the hem of my jean shorts, and he hikes me back into the passenger seat. I let out a small squeal as I pull my equipment with me, laughing as I go. “Shit, you’re strong,” I mutter as I sit back in my seat with my bag on my lap.

He glares at me, shaking his head. “Don’t call me Wes,” he demands, but this time, I can tell he really means it.

Sinking down into my seat, I clutch my bag to my chest and nod. “I’m sorry. I knew you as Wes for so long, you know, before you got your patch.”

He’s quiet, his eyes facing forward, and his breathing is quicker as emotions clearly race through him. Though he obviously doesn’t want to open up to me about them.

Anxiety races through me that I have pushed him too far. So, I turn for the window again. “We’re not too far away, so I’ll be quiet until we get there,” I tell him, watching the sand fly by, almost wishing it would open up and swallow me whole.

Still, he says nothing as we continue toward our first destination. A tightness creeps into my throat as thoughts of home take over. I think about how excited Maverick was when I got this internship. How proud. And now, instead of celebrating this opportunity, we’re running away while Maverick stays behind to fight a war.

Suddenly, Phoenix’s hand slides out, gently squeezing my knee. I guess I didn’t realize it was bobbing frantically with my anxiety. “Hey, we’re doing what they asked us to do, remember? This, us leaving, it’s how we help them.”

I don’t know how he knew I was thinking of home. Maybe he saw the signs of his own fear reflected in me. So, I simply nod, not trusting myself to speak just yet, and give him a small smile.

He tips his chin in return as we spot a sign. He turns onto a dusty side road, and suddenly, my eyes light in awe. A field of metal and glass catches the morning light in a kaleidoscope of colors. Bottle trees of all sizes stand like sentinels across the property, and wind chimes and other found objects are dangling between them.

“Ho-ly…” Phoenix mutters, his words trailing off as he parks the truck.

Grinning from ear to ear, I open my door eagerly. “Told you,” I chime, unable to keep the smugness from my voice.

He chuckles, tilting his head as he steps out, his eyes wandering all over, his steps slow, like he doesn’t know where to look first.

With my bag hiked over my shoulder, I move to his side, and I’m immediately struck by how quiet it is here, the silence broken only by the gentle tinkling of glass in the breeze. The morning sun catches the countless bottles, throwing pools of colored light across the dusty ground.

My chest floods with excitement as I grin from ear to ear. “This is absolutely perfect,” I breathe out, already framing shots in my mind. “The light couldn’t be better. We got here at the exact right time. You nailed it, Phoenix.”

He raises his brows in delight. “You’re welcome,” he replies, standing a few steps behind me, hands in his pockets, looking bewildered in this strange, artistic space. As I walk around getting a feel for the right places and best angles, he doesn’t rush me, doesn’t complain while I spend several minutes probably looking like a complete weirdo, standing on things, laying on the ground, looking through my fingers. I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy.

The things we do for ‘the gram!’

I set up my tripod and start filming a sweeping shot of the bottle trees, talking quietly to the camera about the history of the place and the artistic vision behind it. I move through the installation, capturing close-ups of sunlight filtering through green, blue, and amber glass and the patterns they cast on the ground.

At one point, I look over to find Phoenix watching me with an unexpected expression on his face.

“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious as I pat down my shirt, thinking I have dirt on me from when I was lying on the ground.

He shakes his head, a slight chuckle escaping him. “Nothing. Just, you really know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

The simple observation shouldn’t make me feel so warm inside, but it really, really does. “Years of internet and social media obsession finally paying off,” I joke, though I can’t help adding, “But I’m not just some kid who needs babysitting. I’m here. Working, you know?”

The corner of his lips turns up in the most delicious way. “I’m starting to see that.” There’s something in his tone, in the way he’s looking me up and down— Jesus, is he biting his lip? My stomach flips dramatically, and my knees begin to wobble, so I turn back to my camera quickly, pretending to adjust settings that absolutely do not need adjusting.

“The marketing campaign, how does all this fit in?” he asks, moving closer to look over my shoulder at the viewfinder.

I’m suddenly aware of how close he is, the warmth of his breath on my neck.

Why does he smell so damn good?

Forcing myself to focus, I scroll through the images on my camera. “It’s for a travel company that specializes in off-the-beaten-path road trips,” I explain, grateful to talk about something concrete. “They want to showcase all these hidden gems between major destinations. The idea is to make the journey as exciting as the destination itself.”

I step away from the tripod, getting some much-needed distance between us, and gesture to the bottle trees. “Most people driving to Vegas just see it as this stretch they have to get through. But there’s all this weird, beautiful, and wonderful stuff along the way. My job is to make people want to slow down and take the unseen route.”

Phoenix nods thoughtfully. “Makes sense. Why go on a vacation and not see everything there is to see.”

“Exactly! I’m trying to create content that feels authentic, not overly polished. Like you’re seeing it through the eyes of someone experiencing it for the first time.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s why I need to physically be on the road, actually seeing these places for the first time and giving them a real perspective.”

“And that’s where I come in,” Phoenix says. “Your glorified chauffeur.”

I roll my eyes. “More like my unwilling adventure partner.”

He gives me a look I can’t quite read. “I never said I was unwilling, Clo. In fact, quite the opposite, remember?”

I turn away quickly, busying myself with my equipment again. “I need a shot of myself walking through that section there,” I say, pointing. “Would you mind filming me?”

“Uh, sure. I don’t really know what the hell I’m doing, though.”

Turning back to face him, I move the camera in front of him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you can handle it,” I tease, then proceed to show him how to use the camera, and he listens intently. For someone who’s supposed to be this tough biker, he’s surprisingly careful with my equipment, his hands steady as he adjusts the focus.

“Just keep me in frame and follow as I walk,” I instruct.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies with a mock salute.

I walk slowly through the bottle trees, letting my hand trail along some of the lower-hanging bottles, looking up at the sunlight streaming through the colored glass. I feel Phoenix watching me through the lens, and something about that awareness makes me both self-conscious and bold at the same time.

When I check the footage afterward, I am surprised by how well he captured it.

“Not too shabby,” I tell him. “You might have a future in cinematography if this whole biker thing doesn’t work out for you.”

He snorts. “I’ll keep that in mind and make sure to put this on my resume. Maybe it will dull the fact I’ve been a member of two 1% clubs. One of them was practically a murderous cult, and the other is about to go into a war with a Cartel and may not even be there when we get back. Nothing says ‘hire me’ like the threat of illegal activities. But hey, I’m damn good at filming stuff if you need it.”

Raising my brows, I stare at him, not knowing how to respond to that. He must sense my apprehension because he chuckles, placing his hand on my shoulder. “Shit, I need to work on my delivery. That was a very bad joke. See, I told you I’d have to make another apology.”

Shaking my head, I let out a heavy breath. “Wow, man. That shit was dark. You have some serious repressed issues about your old club, huh?”

He clears his throat, glancing around at the bottles and artwork. “So, ah, do we need more, or are we good to go?” he deflects.

Weakly smiling at him, I glance around, seeing there’s still so much more I can film here. “Is it okay if I do some more?”

“You’re the captain of this ship. Lead the way, Reel Girl,” he states with a cocky smirk.

Furrowing my brows at him, I let out a small chuckle. “What did you just call me?”

“You know, reels, like on Insta and stuff. Reel Girl, ’cause you’re doing the social media… thing,” he hesitates on the last few words, his brows creasing. “Do I need to apologize again?”

Smirking, I don’t reply. I just turn from him, and we walk off back to the bottles, where I film a few more sequences. Phoenix doesn’t rush me or act bored. He just watches, occasionally offering to hold something or move something for me. At one point, he even spots a perfect shot I hadn’t noticed—a place where the bottles create a kind of tunnel of colored light.

“That actually looks really fucking cool,” he admits when I show him the footage.

An unexpected surge of happiness flows through me at his approval. “Told you this place was worth a visit.”

A genuine smile crosses his face, his eyes lock with mine, and for a moment, a brief moment, neither of us say anything. We just look at each other until he finally breaks the silence. “I think you’re right. Totally worth it.”

My stomach falls through my body with his words, my legs trembling again as I feel my heart rate skyrocketing. I don’t know what it is about this moment. Maybe it’s the fact that since he joined the club, we’re alone together for the first time.

Maybe it’s the fact that since the first moment I saw him, I feel like my heart rate has never been the same in his presence.

Or maybe it’s the fact that he’s looking back at me the same way I’m looking at him.

Either way, right now, this might just be my favorite moment of all time.

HONK, HONK.

My heart slams into my chest as I jump back from Phoenix with fright. He spins, clearly reaching for the gun hoisted down the back of his jeans as we both turn to see the hippy-style Volkswagen van skidding into the lot.

With his hand still on his gun, we wait to see who the hell this is as a young man and woman jump out. The guy looks like a twin of Rip, and the woman reminds me of the character ‘Flower’ from the US version of the sitcom Ghosts . It’s weird—they both feel familiar somehow, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

I side-eye Phoenix, a slight smirk crossing my lips as the hippy girl rushes to the guy, cuddling into him as they approach us. “Hey, man, you and your girl here chillin’ with the bottles too?”

Phoenix and I both widen our eyes. “Oh, we’re not—” both of us say in unison, then stopping at the same time.

The woman giggles, cuddling into her man. “Cool, cool. Who needs labels? You’re both young. You have so much left to experience. I mean, I was only nineteen when I entered into my first polyamorous relationship. After that, there was the thruple, the group home, which, now I look back on it, I’m pretty sure was the beginnings of a cult. Then there was that BDSM phase, that was fun. Oh, and the all-girl mega mix, or was that the band I was in?” she asks, looking at her man, who smiles at her lovingly. “Anyway, in the end, after I had my fun, I found the one I’m meant to travel the road with,” she states, cuddling into him, though there’s a sadness behind his eyes when he embraces her back.

“That’s sweet. I guess?” Phoenix replies, not really knowing what else to say right now.

“Hey, Meadow, why don’t you head on in and start checking out the bottle trees? I’ll be in there with you soon, babe,” the guy suggests.

She beams from ear to ear, leans in, kisses him on the cheek, and then turns to look right at me. “You know, honey, you have a really great body. You should show it off a little more.” She grins, waggling her brows at me, then takes off, running toward the bottle tree farm. Her dress is flowing, and I only just now realize she isn’t wearing any shoes.

Glancing up at Phoenix, I raise my brow, wondering what in the hell is going on as the guy drops his shoulders, seeming to change completely when he talks this time. “I’m so sorry about that.” He places his hand out to Phoenix for him to shake. Phoenix hesitates but then slowly moves his hand out and shakes the guy’s hand while he continues to explain. “All this, the hippy shit. It’s just an act. Her name isn’t Meadow, mine isn’t Cedar.”

An uneasy tension rolls through me as Phoenix lets his hand go, clearly moving a step in front of me, putting himself between Cedar— or whatever his name is —and me.

Phoenix clears his throat. “Okay, well, we don’t want any trouble, so—”

“No, sorry, I came at this all wrong. We’re not a threat. I swear. I’m just fucking tired, and it’s actually really nice to have a moment where she’s occupied so I can talk to someone, even if you are complete strangers.”

Furrowing my brows, I step out from Phoenix’s protection, still seeing that same somber look in Cedar’s eyes. “Do you need our help?” I ask.

Phoenix snaps his head around, glaring at me like I’ve just said the most outrageous thing in the world. But Cedar lets out a long breath, shaking his head. “Thank you, but I’ve tried everything. Had the best doctors money could buy. Tried every kind of ‘out there’ therapy. Nothing works. The only thing that helps her is giving in to it. So, I do. For her.”

Phoenix relaxes his shoulders. “Mental illness?” he asks.

Cedar lets out a soft chuckle. “Sometimes I wish it were. It would be simpler. We could use medication to help. But no, we were in a pretty serious car accident a few years back, and unfortunately, well, Meadow, as she now goes by, had a severe brain injury.”

“Shit! I’m sorry, man. That fucking sucks,” Phoenix states.

Narrowing my eyes on him, I turn and glance at Meadow, seeing her skipping through the field of bottles, and it hits me instantly who they are. I turn back to Cedar, my mouth opening wide in shock. “Holy fuck! You’re Luke Archer.”

He glances over to Meadow, and I follow his line of sight, seeing her busily walking through the bottles, and my heart races faster. “Oh God,” I whisper.

Phoenix scratches his head, turning to me. “Am I supposed to know what’s happening right now?”

Biting my bottom lip, I turn back to Luke and exhale, trying so hard to keep my tears in. “I am so, so sorry. I heard it all across the news and social media, of course. But I mean, you never know what you can really trust from reporters when it comes to famous actors.”

Phoenix widens his eyes, turning back to Luke. “Huh? You’re famous?”

Luke fakes a smile. “I was. A few years ago. Selene, now Meadow, and I were the latest hot couple in Hollywood. So, needless to say, we were booked to do a rom-com. It was going to be about two friends growing up together, clearly through the hippy era, exploring everything and everyone. Denying their feelings for each other, but, of course, in Hollywood, at the end, they realize they belong together. The characters were Meadow and Cedar.”

Phoenix glances across to Meadow, rubbing the back of his neck. “During filming, you had the car accident?”

“It’s so fucking crazy how your life can change in the blink of an eye. One moment Selene and I are on top of the fucking world. The next, every memory she has of her life as Selene is gone, and she only knows herself as the character of her last role. She believes she’s Meadow and that I am Cedar. A weird version of Fifty First Dates , but instead of her resetting every morning, she continues every day, just living this character that doesn’t exist, and I have to play along to keep her happy. So now, we just go traveling. Seeing the sites of the world. Because the truth of it is, you just never know how long you have with someone. You have to live every day as if it’s your last and love the people you love with every-fucking-thing you have.” He glances over at Selene, a genuine smile crossing his face. “Even if some days are really damn hard.”

My hand moves to my chest as my heart pounds harder. I heard the reports, I saw the leaks on social media, but I never, not once, thought any of this was true. It was too farfetched. Just to think, this poor man has given up his career to spend his life making the woman he loves happy.

Even if she’s not the woman he fell for in the first place.

That is unconditional love.

Phoenix steps up to him, my eyes widen, wondering what the fuck he is doing, but he reaches out, grabs Luke’s hand, then pulls him in for an all-man, back-slapping bro-hug. “You’re good people, Luke.”

Luke slaps Phoenix’s back in return as I stand back, smiling at the interaction. The content creator in me instantly wants to pull out my cell and snap some shots. But the human side of me knows that Luke and Selene have been through enough.

They don’t need another spotlight on them right now.

They just need their time together.

“Cedar, baby, you gotta come see this. You’re missin’ out!” Meadow calls from the bottle trees.

Luke cranes his neck, forcing a smile back on his face. “I’m comin’, darlin’. You just make sure you’re ready for me when I get to you,” he calls out.

I try to fight back my smile as Meadow calls back. “I’m always ready for you, baby!”

Luke shrugs. “Blame Cedar, not me,” he whispers toward us. “Thanks for letting me vent all that to you. I’m not really sure why I did that, but somehow, I feel better. So, thank you.”

I step up this time, reaching out and gripping his hand. “You were a brilliant actor, Luke, and what happened to you and Selene was fucking tragic. But this, what Cedar is doing for Meadow? That… that is fucking breathtaking.”

He slowly smiles, nods his head once, then turns to Phoenix. “She’s good people, this one. You should lock that down.”

Widening my eyes, I sink into myself as Phoenix chuckles. “I have a good feeling her brother might actually kill me if I did that.”

My eyes drop to the ground, but Luke doesn’t let it go. “Maybe, but I think the thing you need to focus on there is the fact you went straight to having to defend yourself against her brother. Which means you’ve thought about it. Which means she is worth fighting for.”

My breath escapes me suddenly, my eyes snapping up as I stare at Luke. He winks at me, then turns, heading off toward the bottles to find Meadow. An awkward silence falls over Phoenix and me now that we’re alone.

Again.

I finally catch my breath and chance risking a glimpse at Phoenix. His face is stoic, but he won’t look back at me, so I figure I will break the ice. “So, I uh—”

“C’mon, we better get going if you want to hit a few more places on the road today,” he states, turns, and starts heading for the truck.

I remain on the spot, not really knowing how to process the last few minutes. A tirade of emotions flows through me as I hear Meadow and Cedar giggling as they move through the bottles, and I glance over, seeing them happy together.

It’s not perfect.

Far from it.

But Luke is making it work for them.

“Clover, c’mon. We gotta go,” Phoenix calls from the driver’s side, startling me.

Huffing, I lean down, grab my gear, pack up to leave, and I take one last look around. “I used to daydream about taking road trips like this,” I confess, walking toward the truck. “Just me and my camera, exploring all these weird little corners of America.”

“And now?” Phoenix asks.

I shrug, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from my voice. “Now I get to do it because everyone I love might die while I’m gone.”

Phoenix stills, his eyes serious as they meet mine. “That’s not going to happen.”

Snorting out a huff, I throw my stuff into the back seat. “You don’t know that. You have no clue what’s around the corner. I mean, look at what happened to Luke and Selene. Perfect example of how life can fuck you up in an instant.”

“You’re right,” he agrees quietly. “But I know your brother. And my sister. And the rest of our family. They’re fighters, every one of them.”

Our family.

The words hang between us, a reminder of the strange ties that bind us—not blood but something just as strong.

“Come on,” he says finally. “We should get going if we want to make it to this other place you want to visit by lunch.”

Sighing, I close the rear door, then move around to the passenger side and slide in, doing up my seat belt. He smiles, then leans across, yanking at the seat belt, making sure it’s done up properly.

I furrow my brows at him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

He weakly smiles. “Just want to make sure you’re secure in case we crash. I don’t want you to get a head injury.”

I try to fight back my smile. “You don’t want me to turn into Meadow?”

He chuckles slightly, starting the ignition. “I think you’re perfect the way you are, Clover.”

My breath catches at his kind words before he turns back to the wheel and then slowly pulls out of the lot without saying another word.

Jesus Christ, he might be protecting me from a head injury.

But he sure isn’t from all the whiplash he’s giving me with his mood swings.