Page 51 of The Biker and the Baker
“Pia?” my father booms down the line.
“Dad, hey. Why do you have mom’s phone?”
“Your mother is very upset with you,” he replies. “You did not call her to let her know you would not be home. She thought you were here because your car is here, but when we checked the security cameras, it showed two suspicious men parking it before leaving on motorcycles. We planned on calling the police if we did not hear back from you by noon.”
Yikes.“I’m sorry, Dad. Please apologize to Mom for me, too. But why didn’t she call Mira? She knows where I am.”
“Your mother and your sister are not speaking again.”
Double yikes.When Mom and Mira are at war, Mira tends to shun Dad by association. It’s a whole thing with them. But I had no clue those two were at it again.
Mom loves to dish out the silent treatment whenever we don’t do things her way, and Dad always ends up smack in the middle of it all. Poor guy.
“Okay. Well, I’m safe. No need to worry. I’ll be home soon.”
“Alright, daughter,” he says, sounding exhausted. “Oh, that stuffy boyfriend of yours stopped in early this morning. He said you two had plans for a breakfast date. He appeared quite upset when we told him you did not come home last night. You know, I do not care much for him, but you should probably give him a call to let him know you are okay.”
I will do no such thing. Calvin is not “upset” in the sense that he’s worried something might have happened to me; he’s upset because my absence means I’m most likely off banging someone who isn’t him.
“Okay, Dad. See you later.”
After ending the call, I pocket the phone and walk back to the RV. Onyx watches me approach, biting into a piece of cantaloupe, his expression unreadable.
When I’m beside him again at the table, he flicks my fishtail side braid with one finger, then says in a low voice, “That better be your last call to him.”
“Excuse me?”
“You told him you’re mine now, right?”
He’s talking about Calvin. “Noooo,” I drag out. “I’mmine. Not yours. Not his. Butmine.”
Still messing with my braid, he dips his mouth to my ear. “You gotta know you can’t fuck him anymore, right?Tellme you know that, Sweet P.”
Before I can respond, and I would’ve undoubtedly said something aggressive and defiant, Leyana emerges from the garden with another silver-plated tray.
Stepping away from him, I meet Leyana half-way and relieve her. “Youreallydidn’t have to,” I tell her. “There’s more than enough food.”
“Up against these two”—she gestures to her sons—“it’s not. Trust me.” Then she hurries off, saying her husband just woke up and he’s an even bigger eater.
Around forty minutes later, she’s proven right. The twinsandOnyx eat like starved vagrants. It’s insane.
When Leyana returns to collect the plates and trays, she casts me another “told you so” smirk.
“Need some fresh braids, Ley,” Onyx says, picking his teeth with a toothpick. “You got any time later?”
“Sure. I can do it after dinner.”
Huh?Wait, so, she gives him home on her land, she feeds him,andshe braids his hair? Is there more to the story here? Or are these peoplereallythat cool with each other?
I have so many questions…
But Onyx and I haven’t exchanged actual words for close to an hour. Maybe he’s mad at me, maybe I’m mad at him. I don’t know at this point. He came off a tad too possessive with his comments regarding Calvin earlier, and possessiveness does nothing for me. I’m a woman, not a fire hydrant, so I’m not about to have him pissing all over me.
Though, to be fair, it’s not unreasonable of him to assume I won’t be sleeping with other men while I’m with him.
But, are we eventhereyet? We’re not even a “we.” This thing seems to be going at one-fifty miles an hour all of a sudden. It’s dizzying.
After Leyana leaves, the twins go back at it with the video game. Leaning back in my chair, I try to watch along with them, but I can feel Onyx’s gaze burning into my skin. Had I driven here myself, I would’ve bounced a long time ago. Up and out.
