Page 38 of Property of Woods

As I walk through the clubhouse, there’s not many people around.A couple of the old timers are shooting a game of pool and Rizz is cleaning up from the party.I don’t see Woods anywhere.He never told me directly that I can’t go anywhere.It’s not like I have a phone to text him and there’s no way in hell I’m knocking on his door.My luck, his wife would shoot me on sight and claim self-defense or something.

I grab the money Woods gave me last night from my room and meet Gabbie over by the garage.

“I’ve got an appointment to get my pussy waxed.My girl can probably squeeze you in if you want.”

“I’m good.I’ll probably just check out some stores nearby or something.”

“Cool.There’s a bookstore and a peddler’s mall that’s pretty neat.”

“Perfect.”

Devil’s Creek is exactly what you’d think when describing any small southern town.Lots of friendly faces.Clean streets.Small businesses.Nothing chain owned.

The kind of place you want to raise a family.There’s a small park with a gazebo in the town square.Flowers blooming everywhere you look.You’d never have thought there was a badass biker club that runs it.

Gabbie parked and told me she’d meet me back in her car in an hour.She gave me the key, giving me her trust and the opportunity to make a run for it.I could take her car and just go, but where?I have five -hundred dollars to my name and no one who gives a shit about me other than Woods and that could be because there’s something in it for him.Whether it’s money or Big Daddy owing him a favor, I don’t know.

It’s not like saving me gives Big Daddy anything other than making Gwynee happy.Which I’m grateful for.I wonder around the town, finding my way to the bookstore that Gabbie mentioned.I could get lost in here for hours.The décor is romantic and whimsy.Lots of roses, vines, decorate the front window display.

“Hi welcome to Enchanted Rose.Is there anything I can help you find today?”the bubbly voiced girl behind the counter asks me.

“Is this your store?”

“Yeah.Is it too much?”

“The décor?”

“I was going for romantic but not old lady.I didn’t want the sci-fi guys coming in and getting mad when they see I only stock romance books.We mostly carry special editions from independent authors.Most of my business comes from online, so I’m stoked that you came in.I’m Olivia, but everyone calls me Liv.”:

“Jessika.Most call me Jess.”

“Are you new to town or visiting?I’ve not seen you around before.”

“Visiting some friends.”

“Well, enjoy your visit and if I can help you find something, let me know.”

“Thanks, you too.”The second the words leave my mouth, I feel like an idiot.

Liv is polite enough to turn her head when she fights back her snicker.

I browse the shelves and pick up a few books from new to me authors.I might as well have something to do to pass the time later.At the peddler’s mall, I find a cute black messenger style bag for five bucks.

Gabbie is waiting by her car when I leave the coffee shop.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but the guy working the counter said everyone loves the vanilla boba tea.Liv, the chick at the bookstore, recommended the coffee shop.”

“That was sweet.Thanks.Liv and the coffee guy.You’re making friends everywhere you go.”She laughs, tucking her dark hair behind her ear and taking a sip.

“Thanks for asking me to come.Starting over is hard.I feel like the new girl at school all over again.”

“That’s a really good way of describing it.”

We walk around the small park sipping on our drinks while she texts with someone.She keeps shooting me these sneaky smiles that are creeping me out.

“How long have you lived at the clubhouse?”

“I don’t stay there except for on the weekends.I work and go to school.The guys know how to party and they always have good booze and drugs.I know none of them will ever date me and it’s not like I want to be an ol’ lady.They use me.I use them.We both get what we want.Besides, I plan to marry rich and bikers spend all their money on their bikes.Not their women.Woods has Faye living in a barn, of all things.”She rolls her eyes and laughs.

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