Page 5 of The Biker and the Loner
In the end, I’m glad I chose him.
~
When I wake the next morning, Scratch is seated on the small couch-bench in the narrow passageway, dressed and lacing up his boots. I sit up and stretch, my lips pried apart with a yawn. The sheets fall to my waist and he glances up from lacing his boots, his darkened gaze zoning in on my girls.
“What time are you leaving?” I ask, snagging his attention.
“In a few hours. Gonna spend some time with Grunt and Kenny.”
Grunt and Kenny—Nero and Kendra—are the two people closest to him. They grew up in the same foster home together and now consider themselves true siblings. It makes sense that he’d want to spend his last hours in Denver with them.
Shimmying off the bed, I pull the sheet up and around me then crouch to pluck up my skirt from off the floor. From the small front pocket, I pry out the necklace I’ve been carrying around with me for the past thirteen years.
I trek down the passage to where he is, taking the spot next to him on the couch-bench, then open my palm with the necklace. “I want you to have this.”
He stares down at the piece of jewelry in my palm for a long moment before he finally picks it up and lets it hang from two fingers. The weight of three pendants dangles from the golden chain. They show the Hand of God, the Star of David, and the Cross.
“It belonged to my father,” I tell him. “My mother bought it for him when he first started his job as a cop. He called it his ‘protection charm’. He never took it off…”
Scratch slides me a side glance. “Guessing it didn’t work, seeing as he’s dead?”
“He died from lung cancer,” I inform him. “He never, ever, not once, got hurt on duty.”
“Then why’re you giving it to me?” he asks. “You should want me todieand never come back, not be protected. ‘Cause if I make it back, I might not be able to stop myself from offing that bitch.”
It’s not until he says those words that I realize what I’m doing. Holy shit. Why on earth did I just give that to him? Am I stupid? Is this what sex does to the brain? Make you do dumb stuff? That’s myfather’snecklace. What possessed me to give it tohim?
Realizing my ginormously stupid error, I shoot my hand out to grab the dangling necklace from his fingers, but he’s quicker than me. He jerks his hand out of reach and quickly locks the necklace tight in his fist.
He straightens and grins down at me with a wicked gleam. “If this ‘protection charm’ is as good as you say it is, then I’ll see you when I get back, sweet thing.”
He chucks my chin with his fist, and then he’s gone.
With my father’s necklace.
What the hell did I just do?
Chapter 2
Ley
Five years later
“Sorry, I'm married.” I wiggle my fingers to indicate the faux wedding band.
“O-Oh, I didn't see that.” The customer’s face falls with disappointment. “Well, um…have a nice day, beautiful.”
Works every time.
About a month after I started this cashier job at Tipsy Scoop, a fake wedding band became a part of my uniform. To date, it’s my most effective strategy for staving off the overwhelming amount of unwanted male attention I get here.
This might come off as a brag but, really, it’s annoying and borders on harassment.
Worst of all, it’s essentially ostracized me from my female coworkers. I don't ask for it, and I honest to God don't need it, but I do geta lotmore attention from the male customers. There are several regulars who I’m convinced walk through those doors for the sole purpose of hitting on me. I mean, come on, this is a wine cream shop.Wine cream. Wine and ice-cream. I find it hard to believe these men love winethatmuch. And my coworkers despise me for it.
None of them talk to me unless necessary. Save for Toni, because, of course, she’s my boss. Not that it bothers me—I’m a loner. It’s not uncommon for a customer to lean over the counter and whisper to me that my co-workers were gossiping about me.
I think I’m all that.
