Page 70 of Keys

Quickshot was quiet for a moment as he seemed to think about my words, digest them, and I could see when he figured out just how he wanted to address them. “I’ve changed my mind on that.”

“On what?”

“Thinking relationships can’t be lasting and healthy.”

“How so?” I asked, curious as to his answer because my mind was slowly being changed as well.

“Well, after what we’ve been through, I think it’s easy to see how to avoid the unhealthy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Babe, we’re doing it now. Trusting one another with our truths, talking about it. Shit, do you know the last time I saw my parents talk about shit that wasn’t club related or one of them angrily accusing the other of doing someone else?”

I shook my head, feeling bad for Quickshot. It was obvious he saw too much of the shit that his parents should have never allowed him to see.

“I can’t even remember,” he finally answered his own question. “I can’t remember a time when they got along, had a real conversation, or took the time to know and love one another as something more than a warm, comfortable body to fall into out of convenience.”

“I never want that,” I admitted.

“Me either. That’s why I said I want the cake too, not just the icing.”

“Cake is good.” The words slipped quietly from my mouth as Quickshot winked at me. Our server, with perfect timing, brought our food out and we were able to enjoy a few silent moments as we sat there eating.

We were both sort of basking in the glow of our own sentiments when my phone buzzed. Ignoring it had been my plan until it continued to buzz with an incoming call. Quickshot glanced over at me. While I had the thing on silent, that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear the thing vibrating against the key I also had tucked away in the same pocket.

A slow grin spread over his face as he pointed to the breast pocket of my riding jacket. “You can answer that. Sounds like it might be important. Promise, I won’t be offended.”

I don’t know if it was just crazy timing or what, but his phone also began ringing just as he got that last word out. His brows tipped down, coming closer together at the middle as worry settled into the soft lines that were beginning to appear on his face.

I took my phone out and glanced down to see all the missed calls from Tash. I hit redial without bothering to check my messages and she immediately picked up.

“Thank fuck!” Her words were hissed into the phone, barely audible above the din of noise in the background. “Hang on,” she demanded loudly before I heard the distinctive sound of a slamming door and the deep intake of breath from my friend on the other end of the line.

“What’s going on?” I asked quickly, noting that Quickshot’s eyes slid to mine as someone spoke on the other end of his call too.

“Where are you?” Tash asked.

“Italian place out by the college.”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay.” She muttered nervously. “You might want to head back to the clubhouse as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you check your messages?”

“No, Tash, I saw all the missed calls and figured I’d just redial and get the news direct from you. What’s going on?”

There was another sigh from her end. “You need to get prepared for a shitstorm headed your way of the invasive media variety.”

“What the hell? Why?”

“Your father had a hearing today.”

“No, his hearing was scheduled for-”

Tash cut me off. “They asked for an emergency meeting with the judge, Keys. He had some big deal for them, and they took it. Your father is out free right now and he talked to the news outlets.”

“Free?”

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