Page 31 of The Biker and the Professor
Volunteering to post both Nero and Kendra’s bail, Cookie and I came straight to the bail-bond agency across the street.
As I’m wrapping up the process and about to leave, Scratch walks in. He looks like how I feel, drained. Like he’s not slept in days. Still hot as hell, though.
Upon seeing me, he frowns, as if surprised that I’m there. By way of acknowledgment, he jerks his chin at me. “Yo.”
“Good morning, Scratch,” I mumble, nervously rolling the bail-bond contracts into a tunnel.
To Cookie, he says, “Here to post bail for Grunt and Kenny. What’s the take here, ten or fifteen percent?”
“Ten. But Grunt’s woman’s already taken care of it,” Cookie informs him.
He frowns again as if confused. “He called me, asked me to come post it.”
He’s not called me, though. I’m his—whatever I am to him, and he doesn’t think I’d want to know that he’s in jail?
Sad and irritated, I clear my throat. “I’m told the jail is busy today and it will probably be a couple of hours before they’re cleared, so I’m just going to head off to work.”
Actually, I would stay until midnight if I could, but both of my classes have tests today, tests that were rescheduled from last week after I called in sick to spend time with Nero. I can’t reschedule again.
“Tell him I’ll come see him after work,” I add.
“See him where?” Cookie asks as I make to leave. “You know he’s got nowhere to go, right?”
Halting, I shake my head, not comprehending. “What?”
“Compound’s on lockdown. Cordoned,” Scratch tells me. “Until the blue suits are done doing whatever the hell they’re doing, we’ve got no access.”
“Okay.” I understand that much. “But what about his family?”
Cookie scoffs and looks at me as if I’m daft. “We’rehis family.”
Scratch’s lips twist to the side and he studies me. “He doesn’t talk to you, does he?”
“Apparently not,” I mutter under my breath. Even more aggravated now, I fish my keys from my purse and toss them to Cookie. “Give those to him. Tell him that his stupid, stubborn ass better be there when I get home.”
As I turn to leave, I don’t miss the amused twitch to Scratch’s lips. I can bet a million dollars he’s thinking I’m “cute.” Not badass like Kendra, but “cute.”
Freaking bikers.
~
Usually, when there are tests to be graded, staying late on campus to get the work done and out of the way is preferable to taking them home, as I tend to get easily distracted, especially since Nero came into the picture.
Today, however, as soon as my second class is through, I’m careening off campus in minutes and speeding home, test papers piled high on the passenger seat, only making a brief stop to pick up Thai takeout.
Nero’s bike is not in the driveway when I get home. What if he’s not even here and I’m rushing home for nothing?
Retrieving my spare key from its hidden place inside the leather covering on my steering wheel, I climb out of the car and round to the passenger side to gather everything in my arms.
Barely balancing the takeout food on top of the stack of test papers and folders, I glance over to Cookie’s. Her wagon is not in her driveway and her house is unusually lifeless.
I wobble up the steps and key the door open.
He’s here.
I don’t see him, but the scuffed, size-eleven steel-toe boots on the Welcome mat are clue enough. There are no signs of life as I close the door and walk the path to the living area, my spike-heels clacking against the hardwood.
Then, snores…light and erratic.
