Page 6 of Legacy of Smoke
“Yes.” She crossed her arms and dipped her head in a firm yes, despite her body language being closed off.
“Are you sure?”
“Sprout wouldn’t hire a pedophile or a rapist, at least I think he wouldn’t so, yes. I’m sure.”
She was right about Sprout. My best friend on the outside was a stand-up guy for being an outlaw biker. He was a good guy, unless it came to assholes who broke the code. Then his darker side broke rein and rode havoc on those unfortunate souls. Rumor had it his father was a rapist, but those rumors were dead wrong. Sprout knew that. I knew that. The club knew that. And as such, he had zero tolerance for anyone who was one.
“I’m all dirty.” Why was I turning this beautiful woman down? I should jump at the opportunity. Maybe I’d get laid.
And the resulting thought froze me in place, dumb and scared shitless. The imagined sensation of how Poppy’s lips would taste tilted my whole universe shit-ass-sideways.
“Brush yourself off, I have a bathroom right off the mud room that Dad used to use when he got too filthy. If you have a change of clothes, bring them. Shower. The house is just down the road.” She pointed and rattled off an address.
“Are you for real?” I’d been propositioned by professionals, and none of them offered me a shower. Naked before the first date was going onto the ‘maybe’ list.
She blinked. Then she rallied. “You know my father.”
Caution! Danger!“Yes.”
There was a moment her eyes fell and her smile went with it. It took her more than one deep breath to continue. “If he were out, and no one was around to help him, to get him back onhis feet, and, well, show him he’s a good man, then I’d…” Tears welled up.
Whoa, what a way to cut a man.
“I’ll come. Give me about an hour to check in with Jackson and Sprout. If they say I can’t then how do I contact you to let you know?”
“Did Sprout give you a burner?”
He had. But hearing the slang for temporary phone come out of this sweet lady’s mouth gave me pause. “I have a phone, yes.”
She pulled out her cellphone and prepared to dial a number. “Well?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know it yet.” There was no need to know it. No one would call me who didn’t already have the number. Except, I guess, her.
“Oh. Right.” She put her phone away, pulled out a receipt and scribbled her number on the back of it.
As I admired the rounded digits on the paper, she placed her hand on mine.
“Please come have dinner. I was hoping you can tell me a bit about Dad?”
That was a minefield. Her dad was notorious. A lifer. In prison for fifty years, no parole. His crime so heinous and blatant no one wanted to defend him. The lawyer the club hired barely tried, despite there being an obvious reason for what he did. Like Sprout, Pinner had no patience or qualms about giving kiddie-diddlers their due. But unlike Sprout, Pinner had no mercy either.
“Your sister is coming?” This wasn’t a date, and I had to be certain of my footing before committing.
“Maybe. I hope so.”
I hoped not. It wasn’t because I wanted to be alone with Poppy, although that would be a bonus. I didn’t want to meetface to face the kid Pinner gave up his life for. I wouldn’t even look when he passed her wrinkled photo around. I couldn’t.
I knew myself better. One look at the cute pigtails, or braces, or a missing baby tooth, and I’d lose my shit and tack on another ten, maybe twenty on the sentence I served. So, I never looked.
And after meeting Poppy and getting first-hand insight how nice she was? I might still lose my shit when meeting her sister. With a mental note to call before coming to check on the attendance, I told Poppy I’d try. “I’m new. And while they gave me a patch, I still need to prove myself. That means…”
“You’re their bitch for a while. I understand.”
She swore? Before I could wrap my brain around that, she beamed one of those genuinely angelic smiles at me and wished me luck. Then she got in her car. Or tried. That tight skirt, paired with a snack-sized height, and a full-sized Chevy truck meant I got a good look at her ass before she got settled and waved another friendly see-ya-later at me.
I barely noticed the dust I inhaled in her wake.
Poppy Albert. I’ll be damned.
