Page 64 of The Belle and the Biker

She gets up and hurries to the door, rushing down the front steps. I follow her out the door.

“I don’t understand women,” I say. “I thought you’d be happy I was calling and checking up on you.”

“I’m sorry.” She sniffles hard. “I’m being ridiculous. I am happy about that. I really am. It’s just that I thought it was my mother calling to check on me, and it would have been the first time she’d ever shown any concern for my welfare since…well, ever.”

She wipes at her cheek with the back of her hand.

“The reason my parents cut me off is because I insisted on divorcing my husband. I mean, my dad went along with it like he always does, but it was all my mother’s doing. She said I was dead to her if I went through with it.”

“That’s fucking bullshit. After he cheated on you?”

“Yeah. I know.” She fishes some tissue from her purse and dabs at her nose. “It’s not even like we had a healthy relationship. All of my life, I’ve made myself miserable trying to get her approval, even though I knew that would be impossible by the time I was a teenager. She lives on a diet of resentment and insults. I should be happy that we’re not speaking, but a part of me will always want my mother to love me. Or at least not think I’m such a failure. It’s stupid of me to be disappointed that she wasn’t calling me. I mean, of course, she wasn’t. How could I even think that?”

Fierce anger burns through me. Her ex-husband Percy was a shithead for cheating on her, but what her mother has done to her is much worse.

“It’s not stupid at all,” I tell her. “Don’t beat yourself up for your feelings. A parent should love their kids.” I mean, as fucked up as my mother was, I know she loved me.

“My dad and I were pretty close growing up, but he always bows down to everything she wants.”

“Sounds like both of your parents were toxic. He should have fought for you; you deserve that.”

“Do I?” Tears bead on her lashes. She blinks and stares at the ground.

“I know that you understand, in your head, that the problem is with them and not you.” I gather her into my arms. “You just need to understand it in your heart, and you need to believe it.” She’s too kind and decent to feel like this about herself.

“Thank you.” She sniffles hard. “I feel foolish getting so worked up about it, and I hate that I still want my mother to care about me. What about your parents? Are you close to them?”

“Mother died when I was a teenager. I don’t speak to my father’s side of the family.” For some reason, I can’t open up about them, not even to Savannah. Or maybe, especially not to Savannah.

The more I care about her and the more vulnerable I feel, the more I sense that gulf yawning between us. The haves and the have-nots. I’d lay down my life for Savannah, but opening myself up to her and showing her the true depths of ugly that my family represents…that takes a strength that I just don’t have.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet and sad, and it breaks my heart and makes me want to track down her parents and give them a beatdown.

Instead, I just hug her to me tightly. The waiter pokes his head out the door and looks at me questioningly. I scowl and shake my head, and he ducks back into the restaurant.

CHAPTER20

Savannah

I don't know why,but the fact that my mother never called to check up on me hit me harder than I had expected. I thought I'd reconciled with us never speaking again, but a heavy leaden mantle of depression tells me otherwise.

Tawny tries to cheer me up, but that's not really her thing, and she's also in a bad mood because of Axl. Axl has had Sprocket take over as acting president and hasn't been to work in days. She left him one message saying she hoped he was okay, and she hasn't heard back.

The vet wants to keep Buttercup and her puppies for a few more days until they're more stable. They were all desperately ill, underweight, and dehydrated. They have to supplement the puppies' food until they can get Buttercup's milk production back up, and everybody needs to be dewormed.

I could have used the distraction of caring for them because there's nothing to do here to keep myself busy. I'm the kind of girl who's constantly multitasking, but it's hard for me to find ways to stay occupied when I'm in hiding. I can't go get a full-time job. I can't start taking classes… I can't do anything except hang out and wait. They only need a couple of shifts a week at Sparky's because they've already got their regular waitstaff. Crash doesn't think applying anywhere else would be a good idea because I need to stay in character as Banshee, and Banshee doesn't have any ID. Also, he wants me to stay close to the club and the bikers, where it's safer.

I call the homeless shelter every morning to check and see if they need me yet, but they tell me they have lots of volunteers at this time of year and they'll contact me when there's a volunteer opening. My book of good deeds lies open on the kitchen table, gathering dust.

I feel really bad that I can't be more cheerful for Crash. We had the most amazing, mind-blowing sex. We've finally admitted that we're crazy pants for each other—and now I've turned into the biggest wet blanket ever. I have no appetite for food, sex, or anything.

All I can think about is that my mother has indeed tossed me out with the trash. Getting my hopes up and then dashed was worse than having no hope at all.

I keep apologizing to him, and he keeps telling me I have nothing to be sorry about.

So now I'm just waiting to pick up Buttercup because then I'll have at least nine dogs to care for, making me feel like someone needs me.

On the fourth day after I dropped her off, I get an ominous-sounding text message from Carlisle.

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