Page 4 of Raven
“I’m not calling your home a shithole. I said this place is a shithole, but that’s beside the point. Why are you living here?” I asked in a softer tone, but she was still defensive.
I guess I would be too, but she was a hard-headed woman who insisted on doing things for herself. I admired that about her, but it also frustrated the hell out of me.
Sydney pinched her lips tightly without answering, so I took a step closer, trying to relay calm as I asked again. “Sydney, why are you staying in this tiny travel-trailer? Do I not pay you enough, or is there another reason?”
“Why is it your business?” she asked, slightly deflating.
I needed to be open if I was going to get her to trust me enough to tell me why she was making enough money to live in a nice apartment or house, but stays here, surrounded by crappy trailers and loud assholes.
“It’s not, but I want to help,” I offered, seeing the anger begin to bleed out of her as she exhaled deeply.
“I owe some people back home, and until they’re paid off, I have to do what I need to survive.”
“Let me help,” I blurted out, and she shook her head.
“I can take care of this on my own, Raven. Please don’t get involved,” she requested.
“At least tell me who you owe,” I asked nicely, and once again, she shook her head. “Then at least let me help get you into a better place.”
She closed her eyes briefly, and when she looked back at me, I saw pain, fear, and uncertainty. Sydney shook her head and dropped her arms from across her chest, and in that instant, I saw her building walls as she responded.
“There’s always a catch to someone helping, so thank you, but no thank you. I can handle this on my own. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go inside my shithole trailer and get some rest.”
Without another word, she spun on her heels, walked to the cinder block step, and opened the squeaky door. Giving me one last look, she went inside and closed the door behind her, leaving me wondering what just happened.
I needed to figure out who was taking money from her, causing her to survive on scraps, just to pay them back. Angry, and a little offended she wouldn’t let me help, I got back on my bike and cranked the loud motor.
Giving the trailer a glance, I saw a figure step up behind a curtain and look outside as I put the bike into gear and pulled away. I hated the thought of leaving her alone here, but she wasn’t going to let me help.
The entire drive out to the Sin Den, I thought about her words and the situation she was in. I didn’t know a lot about Sydney, but what I did know intrigued me. She was a hell of a mechanic, her fabrication skills were going to be amazing once she got a handle on welding, and honestly, she was sexy as hell. I loved the little spitfire attitude she gave the guys around the shop, and something about her seemed familiar.
By the time I got to the clubhouse and pulled around back, my temper was flaring. I turned off the motor and climbed offmy bike. As I approached the back door to the clubhouse, my phone dinged, and I stopped to pull it from my pocket.
Sydney:I’m not a charity case, so please don’t interfere with my life again.
Me:I won’t let anyone suffer if I can help, so stop being stubborn.
I waited for a response, and when none came, I got pissed. All I wanted to do was help her, the same as I would any of the people in my life, but she was obstinate.
“Fuck,” I said aloud and walked over to the side of the little building we’d built for employees and brothers to take a break.
The toolbox I brought over for the Rally was sitting on the table, and the more I thought about Sydney’s words and refusal of my help, the madder I got. I don’t know why I picked up the pipe and began to smash it into the lid of the toolbox, but with each hit, I felt slightly better. I was envisioning the asshole who made her struggle to repay some debt, and with each swing, I saw his faceless body being beaten to a bloody pulp.
I felt someone’s eyes on me, and I turned to see Jigsaw leaning against the side of the building, watching my unusual outburst. Tossing the pipe down, I stepped away and ran my hands through my hair as I tried to find a way to explain my anger without sounding like a weird stalker.
Turing back to him, I explained, “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to cause a ruckus.” I paused then added, “She’s just so infuriating.”
“She?” Jigsaw asked.
“It’s too much to get into right now,” I said, then added, “I’ve got to get back to the shop. I have eight custom bikes to get finished and shipped out before the end of October.”
I went to walk away, and Jigsaw asked across the empty parking lot, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
I turned and looked at him. “Do you have a remedy for how to make a stubborn woman be reasonable?”
He laughed and replied, “I wish. If you figure it out, tell me the secret.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I got back on my bike and cranked the motor. Any plans I had for relaxing tonight went out the window the minute I saw where she was living, and now, I felt bad for blowing off my brothers. But I did have bikes to finish, and I wouldn’t be very good company tonight.
