Chapter Ten

CHAPTER TEN

Vienna

I was actually kind of sad when, a day and a half later, I was sitting in the backseat of the car in my new jacket, covered up in blankets, holding onto Vernon, so he didn't try to escape out of the doors as Riff and Raff stocked the car.

There was just something so charming about this town. And, in a way, it had begun to feel, I don't know, safe. Or as safe as anywhere could feel to me, that is.

I had a bag full of my books in the footwells, a stock of snacks, and hot coffee in my new travel mug, though, so I wasn't exactly upset about the rest of the road trip.

"Next stop… Utah," Raff declared as he climbed in and opened his map on his lap.

"You have everything you need?" Riff asked as he shrugged out of his coat and pressed it onto the center console between the seats.

"Yes," I said, waiting for his attention to turn to the road, then stealing his jacket and pulling it back with me.

I didn't need it.

I had the blankets and wearable blanket Raff had bought me the first day as well as a new blanket with a bison print that matched my jacket that Riff had picked up for me because he knew how much I loved the jacket.

But, I don't know, it was warm from his skin and it had his comforting woodsy scent clinging to it.

I was kind of sad that I didn't smell like that anymore after Raff bought me my own bath supplies. And I thought they might find it weird if I kept using Riff's soap when I didn't need to, so I had to settle for smelling it on his coat as we started the next leg of our drive.

I was halfway into my third book of this journey when we stopped again for the night, this time in an actual hotel instead of a motel, so we'd needed to stash poor Vernon in one of Raff's bags to sneak him in with us.

"This is nice," I declared as we moved into the room, and I let Vernon out of the bag.

It was definitely a step—or five—up from the motels with the modern style and new carpet and drapes. And the bathroom was all marble and squeaky clean.

"Yeah. We generally stay in the motels because we like being close to our car in case we want to leave in a rush," Riff admitted, reminding me what he said about them being in a less-than-legal business. "But I gotta admit, this shit is nice," he said, falling backward onto the bed nearest the door, bouncing a bit on the mattress.

"Raff seemed excited too."

"He's just happy to be in a town where he can go out and see people. He's extroverted like that. Needs people to charge up. They've always kind of drained me," he admitted.

"I know the feeling," I agreed. "I mean, when you're really close with people, it's different, but just people in general? Kind of exhausting."

"What did you do for work? Did you work with people?"

"Not since I worked at a fast food place when I was a teen," I admitted, remembering how the scent of grease used to seem to burrow into my skin and the strands of my hair, and it seemed like no matter how many times I shampooed, it never quite went away.

"I was doing billing at an orthopedic office. My grandmother had worked there until she retired, so she'd gotten me in on the ground floor when I was just eighteen, and I worked my way up. Until… God, they must have been so mad when I didn't show up."

"I imagine they were worried, not mad," he insisted, sounding so sure.

"It wasn't like we were friends," I explained. There'd always been a bit of a hierarchy in that office, with the ladies at the front desk being the queen bees, and those of us who had offices because we needed quiet, we were kind of the outcasts.

They probably forgot my name a month after I was gone.

"What about actual friends?" he asked, and I could feel his gaze on me, penetrating, seeing too much, so I got myself up and walked over to the window, staring out into the lights of the city.

"I wasn't really close with anyone," I admitted. "I saw people casually. It was a small town, so if you went out, you ran into people. But no real close friendships."

"Why not? Prefer books?" he asked.

"I mean, yeah," I admitted, lips curving up ever so slightly. "But, no. I had some friends for a while, but then my grandma got sick. I was her caretaker. So between actual work and coming home to take care of her, I really just didn't have time for anyone. And they eventually moved on without me."

"Guess they weren't really friends then, huh?" he asked, making me turn back. "Real friends stick by you when shit gets rough like that," he said. So sure. Because he likely had friends like that. Men he was so close to that he called them brothers.

"I guess," I agreed, suddenly realizing how true that was, how one-sided so many of my so-called friendships had been. How many times I would sit up until the wee hours of the morning talking a friend through a relationship mishap despite having to get up for work in a few hours. But when I was upset and overwhelmed by being a caretaker, no one was around for me to unburden myself to.

"You got friends now, darlin'," Riff said, giving me a look with such gooey, sincere eyes that I felt compelled to believe him.

"You don't even know me. I might be insufferable."

"Dunno. Think I know enough. Don't think twice about saving an animal in need. Look at books like they're fucking magic. Don't mind road trips. Didn't get all grumbly when the snow put a kink in our plans. Gave up everything to take care of your gran. Know enough to say I want to be your friend, V. And, you know, Raff is your friend too. But I wouldn't read too much into that. The fucker could befriend a lamp post."

At that, a little laugh escaped me.

"That's a good sound," Riff said, giving me a soft smile. "Now. The question is… what do you want to eat for dinner? Looks like the town has everything you could want for takeout. Or eat in, if you want."

"I like staying in," I said. "But if you want to—"

"I like staying in too," he cut me off. But I was pretty sure he would have said that even if he did want to go out. Which, I guess, was just more proof about what a good guy he was.

So we ordered in fried chicken with wedges and sat in our respective beds eating with reruns of an old TV show playing in the background.

"What are your brothers like?" I asked, figuring I would feel more comfortable in their clubhouse if I knew more about the people inside of it.

"Alright, well, fair warning, Slash might be a little scary right at first. He used to have a hard time finding women when we all went out because girls were afraid of him."

"Based on what?"

"He's got nasty scars across his face," he told me.

"That's… really sad that people judge him for that."

"Yeah. He's also heavily tattooed and has a voice like he gargles with rocks. But he's a genuinely good guy.

"Sway is a lot like my brother. Easy-going, friendly. Detroit is kind of the heart of the club. Loves to cook and brings us together around the table for meals. But he's a bit more reserved. Not out of unfriendliness or anything, just keeps to himself more."

"I get that. I'm kind of excited to have some home-cooked food," I admitted.

"Me too," Riff agreed. "Restaurants are great, but I swear you can taste the love in home-cooked meals."

That was exactly it.

No matter how sad or hurt I was, my grandmother's food could heal it, I swear. I missed that more than I even realized. Lord knew I could use a lot of healing now.

"What about the others?" I asked.

"Judge is in full-on dad mode right now. We might not even see him much. But he's an ex-con. Figure you might want to know that about him as well as Coach, Rook and Colter."

"What… what did they do?" I asked, my stomach starting to cramp up.

"Nothing to hurt women," he was quick to tell me. "Judge was pulled in on charges that had to do with the organized crime he was involved in at the time."

"Oh, okay," I said, nodding.

"Rook… Rook is a hacker. And he has a kind of… delicate mom. She got screwed over by a man she trusted which kind of… fractured what was left of her mental health, and she had to get put away. Rook went to jail for assault on that man."

"I mean… did he even deserve time for that?" I asked, imagining I would have done the same for my grandmother if someone hurt her.

"That's our feeling too. Finally, Colter was away in the military when his best friend moved in on his wife. You could say… he didn't handle that information well. And decided to show his ex-best friend exactly how he felt about it."

"What about his wife?"

"He divorced her, didn't put a hand on her."

"I mean I kind of understand beating up his friend in that case too," I said, shrugging.

"Yeah. Slash would never let anyone on the team who was in any way dangerous to women. I'm leaving someone out…"

"Coach," I supplied.

"Right. Yeah, Coach. So, Coach has a little sister and she came home with marks on her face one night. Coach went over there, broke in with a crowbar, and was going to beat the fucker with it. But he'd already called the cops, and Coach got hauled off and charged for B&E and making ‘criminal threats.'"

"Again, understandable," I said.

"Yeah. I think you'll like Coach. He's very chill. In a zen way. He does yoga and meditates and shit like that. But he's also a big reader, so you'll have that in common."

"I've never really known any men who like reading," I admitted. "What about the women? I mean, you told me that Morgaine likes gardening and chickens."

"She also makes pottery. And poisons."

"Wait… what?"

"Poisons," he told me, nodding. "Alright, this can't be repeated, okay?" he asked.

"Who would I have to tell?" I asked.

That was good enough for him, because he took a deep breath. "I can't tell you her motivations for it, that's her business, but Morgaine creates poisons and she sometimes uses them to avenge women who were wronged by men."

"Wronged?"

"I mean, she will whip up a mild poison to make a cheating bastard have a stomachache. But I'm talking… the bad shit. The domestic abusers. The men who… do worse. She makes stronger poison for that."

"Is it wrong that I don't see anything bad with that?" I asked, gaze lowered because I didn't want him to see the look on my face as memories flashed across my mind, ones that made my stomach twist, and bile rise up my throat.

"No," Riff said with certainty. "I don't think that's bad at all. I know it's not a popular opinion these days, but I think some people are too fucked up for this world. I don't think you can fix the sick that is in some people's heads or light up the darkness in their souls. And I'm fine with those people not being here anymore."

"Yeah," I agreed, swallowing back the bile, then forcing myself to take a few slow, deep breaths.

"Judge's woman, Delaney, is the little sister of an Irish mafia family. She's very sweet. In full on mom mode now.

"Slash's woman, Nyx, worked as a bartender for the same Irish mafia family. Now, she owns a martial arts studio in town.

"Everleigh worked at the gym until recently. Really sweet girl. Definitely who you want to talk to if you like girly shit and pop music.

"And Murphy actually designs specialty guns. She's a badass. Might be a little more standoffish at first than the others, but she's nice. Just harder to get to know."

"Thanks for telling me," I said. "I think it might be… easier being around people if I feel like I know them a little."

"I get that. Just remember that you don't have to socialize if you're not up to it, even if they all are. It's fine if you just want to hang in your room and read a lot of the time."

I had a feeling that was what I was going to want to do, but also that it might not be the healthiest thing for me at the same time. So I was going to try to be around people. How else was I ever going to be able to get a job, an apartment, my own life again?

"How long until we get to the clubhouse?" I asked.

"We're going to try to get on the road early tomorrow. And then we should be able to get there by dinner."

Wow.

That was sooner than I was expecting.

I don't know if I was more relieved or terrified. Both feelings seemed to be fighting for dominance in my heart.

"And you'll be there, right?" I asked, hating how needy I sounded, but unable to keep the question to myself.

"Yeah, darlin', I'll be there all the time."

"But you said you live on the road."

"Not right now, I don't. Raff and I were promised a long break after this run. So we're grounded in Shady Valley for a while."

I didn't know how long ‘a while' was, but I silently prayed it was long enough for me to be able to get a job again, get on my feet.

Because as much as Riff had offered to get me my own place, to pay for my bills, I couldn't let him do that.

"Any other questions?" Riff asked as he cleaned up our mess. "About the club or the town or anything?"

"I have one more," I admitted.

"Shoot."

"What's your real name?"