Page 17 of At Last

“Thank you.”

After following Duke’s directions, I find myself standing at the sink, cold water running. The cold coming off the stream hangs in the air around the basin and feels good. I breathe it in for a few seconds then pull several sheets of brown paper towel from the metal dispenser and run them under the faucet to get them soaking wet. I place most of the drenched towels against the back of my neck. The others of the stack I use to cool off my face. And I keep repeating the actions until the nausea subsides completely.

Not nearly ready to face Duke Ellis, but knowing I really have no choice since he’d been the one holding my daughter before my anxiety-fueled retreat, I throw the paper towels in the trash and straighten my shirt and hair back to respectability, then return to the group outside.

A pleasant surprise, Sly is standing between Duke and Tommy, the three men faced toward me in a wide-legged, manspreading, semi-huddle. They appear to have been talking about me. The evidence of that being when the conversation abruptly stops upon my arrival. Sly looks me up and down. There’s a glint in his eyes joining the wicked grin on his lips when he finally pats Duke on the shoulder and starts for me.

Duke’s arm, the one not holding Jade, shoots out to halt him to the spot.

Tommy’s hands go to his hips with his head bent down. It’s apparent by the way he bites his top lip, he’s trying and on the verge of failing not to laugh.

Several more of the men have come out of the bays, partly I’d guess to get a better look at the damage inflicted on my pretty Jeep from the accident. The other part to watch the byplay. Though, I can’t think about that.

Seeing it up on the flatbed, it hits me that we’re going to have to find a ride to the next town, bigger than Thornbriar by a town and a half, to rent a car now.

“Hey pretty lady,” Sly calls out, drawing my attention away from my poor broken ride. “You got your color back.”

“My color?” I ask.

“Yeah, you were looking a little gray when I got to the scene.”

I hadn’t realized. Tommy asked me ifI thoughtwe needed to go to the hospital, but he never said,‘Hey Doc, you look sick.’

“Well, that tends to happen when you’re the hit in a hit and run. I’m better now, though. Thanks for your concern.”

“Where were you heading?” he asks.

“Jade and I were going to do a girls day in Nashville.” I swear I see every man in the forecourt cringe when I mention Nashville. What’s wrong with Nashville?

“By yourself?” Bizarrely comes his next question.

“Yes. Jade and I have traveled quite extensively by ourselves.” What? Because I’m a woman I can’t follow highway signs or a GPS? “And I want, no strike that, after today, Ineeda really good coffee. A Frappuccino.” To accentuate my need, I throw my hands out in front of me, then pull them back to hook my thumbs in my belt loops when the men laugh at me. I’m not being funny.

“If you can give me about a half an hour, I’d be happy to take you.” Sly then surprisingly, generously offers.

As if the universe wants to remind me how much I don’t understand men, or at the very least, a certain black-haired, goateed, tattooed man, Duke breaks from the group, still carrying Jade, to walk over to me.

“Won’t be necessary, brother,” he says to Sly as he slideshis armbetween my arm and torso to hook aroundmywaist, pulling me snug against his side.

Some of the brothers smile, some stare down at their feet, shaking their heads. Sly simply answers, “Gotcha.”

But I’m confused. Too confused to let it go. “Hey Prez, what’s going on here?”

Instead of answering me, he hollers over to the brother called Crass, a new transfer from the Illinois chapter of the Lords. He came into the picture around the same time I did. The man Boss and Elise named their son Gunner after, I’d heard all about how he’d almost lost his life protecting Elise when she was being actively hunted by that biker, murderer and genuinely bad guy from a rival club, Houdini.

I didn’t have to imagine, because I lived their surprise along with them, when he turned out to be Boss’sthought to be deadcousin, Logan Hollister a.k.a. the reason Livvy took off. Since he tried to kill Liv, too. And the nutcase is still out there somewhere, roaming free and able to strike again. He might even still be hanging around Thornbriar, if Elise’s feeling of being watched holds merit.

Yes, so Duke calls out to Crass, “You call me with the estimate, yeah?” Though it’s formed as a question, it’s an order.

“Sure thing, Prez. You got it.” Crass calls back from the backend of the flatbed where he examines my poor, banged-up Cherokee.

Why call Duke and not me? It’smyJeep. Curious and slightly aggrieved, I try to get him to talk to me. “Hey Prez…” Nothing. “Duke…” He continues to ignore me. Which means it’s time to try something new. “Chief?”

Finally a reaction. “Chief?” he asks.

“As in Commander in Chief. You know, because you’re the president.” That garners a laugh from the big guy.

“Come on,” he whispers in my ear before he moves his lips to press a sweet kiss to the side of my jaw. Now he has me really confused. The man holds my daughter. His arm around my waist. And he kissed me in front of his brothers.

Men.

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