Page 61 of Broken

“Yeah, of course. Well, have a good day.”

Great, now I feel like shit for telling him in not so many words I don’t want to go out with him. Watching after him, I force myself not to feel bad. I’m done doing things for other people. I’m a new me now and I refuse to feel guilty about not wanting to go out with a guy I have no interest in.

Just for the hell of it, I check the mailbox. There is a notice from the building manager that must have gone into everyone’s box, saying there is some maintenance work being done. A couple of flyers for local businesses.

And a letter, postmarked from San Antonio.

My heart flips and makes my stomach queasy. No one from back home knows where I live. Except my lawyer. My hands shake as I flip the envelope over. Before I peel it open, I glance around. I don’t want to open this out here, not when I don’t know what it is.

Being the mature adult I am, I shove it back into the box and slam the door, locking it and stepping away.

Anyone would think something creepy is in there, by the way I stare at it. Before I can change my mind, knowing it’ll play on my mind regardless, I grab the bike from where it was propped against the wall and hurry outside.

My plan was to head back to the park to draw. But I’ve lost my motivation for that. Suddenly, I feel all alone again and another shiver racks through me.

I’m not going back in there. Not yet. I’m not ready. Instead of doing what I planned, I climb on the bike and set off, with no destination in mind. At least it’s not raining. All that thought does is remind me of a naked, wet tattooed God in my kitchen.

Although the more I think about him, the less I believe he’s an asshole.

Chapter Fifteen

Garrett

What in the fuck is that prick doing?

No matter how many times I watch the video feed, I can’t shake the rage at seeing Caleb talking to Calli in their lobby.

That I’m even still watching this footage is a problem I’m not willing to think about. My blood is boiling as I stand outside the shop, leaning against the wall. After a long session with a regular, I needed the air.

Being distracted when I’m working pisses me off. Why is this woman invading my brain? Why do I care who she talks to?

That’s easy enough to deduce. Caleb must be bad news given Nero had me follow him around. Calli shouldn’t be getting involved with someone like that. Maybe it’s time to call in the favors I’ve done for Nero and find out.

Telling Nero it’s about a woman is a bad idea. I’ve known him a long time and never seen him with a girlfriend, or Old Lady. He has power and women are drawn to that. Nero doesn’t flaunt it, I doubt he’s hurting in that department.

Women are notoriously second class when it comes to motorcycle clubs. Who the fuck knows where that started but it’s well known women don’t get a say in anything to do with the club. Old ladies are different. When a brother claims a woman as his own, she’s treated with respect.

The more it plays on my mind, the more I want to know about the asshole.

Is he a danger to her? From what I saw, nothing leads me to think that is the case. Nero was more interested in the other guy. Being on Nero’s radar means there is something there.

She’s none of my business. I’ve made that clear. So why did I ask her about her drawings? Why do I care that she was completely fucked over by her family?

Of course, I looked her up after what she confessed. It wasn’t hard to find. I get why she didn’t want to tell me the partner who fucked up her business is her husband. Not gonna lie, that stung a little. More digging confirmed they’re divorced.

It’s good to know I didn’t fuck a married woman. I’m not a cheater and would never get involved in that shit.

Calli is here to make a new life for herself. I don’t need any stress. Calli comes with a lot of baggage that I don’t want to deal with.

So why do I keep watching a video of Caleb talking to her?

Because she looked uncomfortable as fuck. What the hell did he say to her?

The roar of a motorcycle engine breaks me out of my thoughts as the bike draws closer to the shop. I haven’t seen Phoenix for a couple of days now. He went up to Bethesda to check on the rehab place.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Lucky at the window. She watches as the bike comes to a stop and Phoenix removes his helmet. She sees me looking and ducks away from the window. He walks over, holding the helmet down at his side. I lift my chin in greeting.

“What are you doing out here?”

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