Page 17 of Drifter
“I don’t know yet, men, but Redemption Riders and Satan’s Pride will figure it out,” Guard concludes.
After our call, I’m not sure if I feel better or worse. Having the Pride’s help is always good, but it seems like Mr. McGrath is more than an asshole dad.
Chapter 9
Smarter and Stronger
Sasha
The house seems empty when Drifter leaves, but I made a promise to myself many years ago that I would not lose myself in a relationship. I’ve seen it happen time and time again. Before leaving home, I witnessed girlfriends from school or daughters of family friends become different people once a guy came into their lives. They tended to forget their own likes and dislikes and adopted the habits of their partners. Hey, I’m not one to judge. If that’s what works for others, more power to them.
It’s taken a long time for me to find peace in my routine. Yoga grounds me. It helps to keep me balanced, and the time I spend in meditation allows my body to breathe and for me to let go of my stresses.
I change into my yoga shorts and tank top, roll out my mat, put on my CD with the sound of rolling waves, and settle into my first pose. An hour later, I’m sitting on the mat, legs crossed, palms up resting on my knees, eyes closed, inhaling positivity, exhaling the negative thoughts, until finally, I feel centered and in control.
When I open my eyes, the sun is bright, the trees seem greener, and all is good in the world. I make my way outside to my garden. I have a section for vegetables. Nothing crazy: a few tomato plants, a couple of peppers and cucumbers, one or two zucchini plants, and several pots of herbs that I like to use while cooking. The other side of the garden is wildflowers, a mixed array. I created it to attract butterflies. I researched the best plants to create a garden perfect for my butterflies. I have sunflowers, asters, cornflowers, lavender, and a butterfly bush. After I walk out onto the stone pathway, I sit on my wicker bench and settle in to watch the butterflies flit from flower to flower.
Yes, I like my life, and it’s even better now with Drifter as part of it. I like putting my hands in the soil and feeling the dirt on my hands. I putter around, removing weeds and watering the plants. Before I know it, it’s coming close to noon, and the rumbling in my belly reminds me to eat.
I also remember that I haven’t checked my email or phone. I glance through my texts and find one from Drifter asking how my day is going. I send him back a quick message, adding a sunflower GIF. Then I check my email to make sure my business meeting is still on time. I nibble on a ham and cheese sandwich and take another look at the project manager’s assessment of the project they want me to work on. I make notes as I read through it to make sure I get all my questions answered.
With a little time to spare before my meeting, I check in on Simon. He sends me back a message almost immediately, letting me know that he’s having a busy day at the office and will give me a call tomorrow.
I hear a knock on my door, and a loud voice calling out to me.
“Sasha, it’s me, Declan. Let me in,” he shouts through the door. He seems agitated, so I race to the door. Immediately, I wonder if something has happened to Drifter. I barely get the door open before Declan slides inside and closes and locks the door.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Declan replies. I remember Declan well. He and the other prospect, Lee, played bodyguard to Etain for a while when trouble was brewing. Declan is a nice man and takes his job in the club seriously.
“That can’t be true if you’re in my home and your tone says anything but okay.”
“Drifter’s on his way and will handle it,” he answers.
“Handle what exactly?”
“I don’t want you to get upset. Drifter will get pissed if you’re upset. Do me a favor and put on a headset with some music and forget I’m here.”
“Declan, have you lost your mind? How can I do that when I know something’s up? I’m not a fragile flower, and I hate being in the dark. Tell me now, and then I’ll decide what’s best for me.” I plant my feet, with my hands on my hips.
“I spotted a car I didn’t recognize. I’ve got a friend who ran the plates. It belongs to a PI. I think your dad isn’t getting anywhere with you, so he hired someone to get to you. That’s not happening. No one comes into this place, and no one gets near you that you don’t want.”
To say I’m taken aback is an understatement. I’m grateful for Declan’s honesty, but if what he’s saying is true, this really sucks, and Dad is taking this situation to a whole new level. “Are you sure?” I whisper, my throat clogging up.
“No. But, Sasha, please, earphones and go to your bedroom. Let Drifter and me handle this,” Declan pleads.
“What if he—” I begin.
“If they come to the door, I’ll handle it, but they won’t make it that far. I can hear the roar of Drifter’s pipes,” Declan cuts in.
I stop to listen, and I hear the sound of a motorcycle. Declan looks at me, willing me to go do as he asked. I nod and race to my room. I put in my earphones, sit on my bed, and let the soft sounds of Jelly Roll soothe my soul.
I don’t even know how much time has passed, and only when Drifter touches my shoulder do I open my eyes and find my man peering down at me. I study his expression, but Drifter is an expert at masking his emotions and gives nothing away.
“My father.” It’s not a question but a statement because I don’t know of anyone else who would spend the time or money to keep tabs on me.
He takes the earphones, tosses them aside, then plants his fists on either side of my crossed legs, bracing them on the mattress. “He’s not going to get anything out of the guy he sent, and he’s not getting anywhere near you without me present,” Drifter says sternly. “What do you think he’s trying to prove by sending someone out to check on you?”
