Page 24 of Joyride
To Little Bird:Will you at least reach out to your brother? Sienna hasn’t said anything to him and I know he’s worried like hell about you. Or let me tell him you’re okay.
From Little Bird:I’ll consider it.
We keep texting until Wren falls asleep. Texting with her for so long felt like how things used to be, and damn, does it feel good.
* * *
The next day,Shade is at the clubhouse, bright and early at nine o’clock. We head out to do his errands before we have to pick the new cuts up at one. Our seamstress, Lynn, gets shit done quick. She always puts Bull’s order at the top of her list, even when she’s in the middle of working on something else. She’s a sweet lady but doesn’t take shit from anyone.
“Where are we headed, brother,” I ask Shade.
“First thing’s first. Breakfast,” he states.
“I could get down on some pancakes,” I reply. Ten minutes later, we pull up to the Pancake House. There are people here, but it isn’t packed. We get seated right away.
“You alright, man? You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,” I say to Shade.
“Might as well be.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m worried about Wren.”
“I don’t blame you, but she’s your sister. She knows how to take care of herself,” I remind him.
“True, I just wish she would call or something. Let me know what made her leave.” Shade is good at keeping his composure around everyone at the clubhouse. Now that it’s him and me without any other brothers around, he sounds defeated. Thankfully, I talked Wren into letting Sienna tell Shade she’s talked to her.
“She’ll talk when she’s ready. You know how she is,” I say. The waitress walks up to our table before he can respond.
“Hey, guys, I’m Jess. I’ll be taking care of y’all.” She smiles a toothy smile. “Can I start y’all out with something to drink? Coffee? Orange juice?”
“Coffee, please,” I tell her.
“I’ll take a coffee, too,” Shade says.
I wait until she walks away before I start talking again. "I've meant to ask if you've visited TJ lately."
"Nah, I'm giving him some time to heal up some. I don't want him dying on me yet." He gives a sly smirk and I chuckle.
We spend the next couple of hours talking before we need to leave. As we’re walking out, we bump into Zack. I clench my jaw to stop myself from saying anything. Knowing what this piece of shit did to Wren is making it difficult.
“Ah, Shade. Long-time, no see,” Zack draws out. An evil smirk crosses his face.
“Shade, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” I lie. Shade has never liked this asshole and it shows with the daggers he’s shooting at Zack. It takes everything in me not to lay Zack out right here, right now. Wipe that fucking smirk off his face. I have to push Shade out the door to get him to leave.
“I’m ninety-eight percent sure that prick had something to do with Wren leaving. When I find out what he did, I’m going to fuck his world up,” Shade mutters.
“He’ll get his in due time, brother.”
16
Wren
I woke up early today,not able to contain my excitement about starting at the Mad Tatter. It might be silly to some, but I’ve missed working. I miss the bakery. I hate that Zack made me quit working there, but I’m taking it as a lesson learned. The tattoo shop will be different.
I’m looking forward to getting to know the guys. That will take some getting used to. I’ll be working with all guys instead of all women now.
Sketch texted me this morning, wishing me luck on my first day. The text made butterflies flutter in my stomach about as much as our flirting over text last night. The light banter is something we’ve always done, but there was something more to it this time. At least, I think there was. Maybe I’m overthinking it. I guess we’ll find out when he comes back to New Orleans.
I get to the Mad Tatter fifteen minutes early. There’s another car here that I believe belongs to Luke. I check to make sure I have everything I need. My purse, an appointment book, a pouch of pens, phone, and keys. I’m good to go. Climbing out of my car, I lock my doors and head toward the entrance. ASorry We’re Closedsign hangs on the door. I try opening it. With luck, it opens.
“Knock, knock,” I call out.
