I felt the idea of moving on in life with Shy settle in my belly in a way that I immediately transferred it to my pit of denial.
Then I hissed, “Natalie, it isn’t like that.”
She shook her head, but her eyes never left mine. “Maybe not for you, but that boy is all about pu**y. You think with you bein’ all sassy and hot and sweet and funny, he’s not doin’ the time in order to get payback?”
“No,” I clipped. “I don’t think that.”
“Well, you also know I have occasion to rub up close to the circles Chaos runs in and I know Shy Cage. I’ve seen him around a lot and, babe, he gets around a lot. Lee Nightingale defines badass. Shy Cage defines dawg.”
“He’s a brother, he’s family,” I snapped.
“He’s a dawg, Tabby, and you can’t forget that. If he’s bein’ cool with you, awesome. Pleased he’s givin’ that to you. Take it. You need family. I’m just tellin’ you to keep your eyes open and watch your heart. Or, more to the point, watch your ass because if you don’t, Shy’ll tap it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“No joke,” she stated.
I rolled my eyes back to her. “I’m thinking I liked it better when you treated me like I was fragile.”
“Kiss that good-bye,” she retorted.
Great.
I sucked in breath.
“Nat, honestly, we’re just friends,” I whispered, and she studied me.
Then she whispered back, “I believe you.”
I nodded.
“But do you feel me?” she pressed.
“I feel you,” I said softly.
She grinned.
I grinned back.
Then I sat back and she did too, turning her head and calling loudly and rudely to no one in particular, “Yo! Check!”
My grin grew into a smile.
That was Natalie. Loud, rude, funny, up for anything, always surprising and mostly always loving.
I just wished she was willing to listen to advice just as easily as she was willing to dish it out, and I determined that during our next lunch, it was my turn to lay it out.
This time, it was my turn to pay the check.
* * *
“Thanks, Lenny,” I called to the man under my car.
“No problems, Tab, be done in about half an hour,” Lenny called back.
“Cool,” I finished and then wandered out of the big garage bay at Ride.
The good part about not holding a grudge against Shy anymore was that I was at Ride more, on Chaos more, with the boys more, my family more, and, obviously, Shy more.
I also got free oil changes.
I was heading toward the Compound to see if Shy was there and he wanted to share a drink when I saw him.
Walking out of the Compound hand in hand with a tall, buxom brunette.
My lungs started burning and my body tossed itself to the side of the cement steps that led to the office, hiding me from the couple.
I crouched and deep-breathed.
What the heck?
What the heck?
Okay, all right, okay.
No. Not okay. Not all right.
What the heck?
I lifted up and peeked over the stairs toward the Compound and my lungs burst into flame at what I saw.
Shy and the woman standing by his bike. Her hand was at his hip. His hand was at her neck. Their mouths were connected.
I jerked down and my lungs turned to ash, I struggled for breath as I heard a Harley roar, and I pressed against the cement at the side of the steps, my eyes glued to the forecourt so I could see them as they drove by, Shy on his bike, the woman pressed to his back.
Fortunately, Shy’s head was turned away from me.
Heartbreakingly, her cheek was pressed to his shoulder.
A huge wave crashed over me, pulling me under, whipping me around. I couldn’t get myself under control. I couldn’t strike out for the surface.
I was drowning
I’d grown up in the world of bikers and I knew.
I knew.
I knew what a piece of tail looked like riding on the back of a bike, and I knew what a biker’s woman looked like.
That woman was not tail.
She was Shy’s.
I hadn’t even recovered and another wave crashed over me, bigger than the first. So huge and powerful, I’d never make it to the top.
I watched until they disappeared and I kept watching, trying to surface, come up for air.
“Honeybunch, what in the frig are you doin’?” I heard Big Petey ask.
I shot up from my crouch and turned to see him moving my way, coming from one of the bays.
“Um…” I mumbled but couldn’t go on.
He looked at me and concern washed over his features. “You okay?”
“Uh… yeah,” I forced out. “Great.”
He stared at me then remarked, “You look like someone ran over your puppy.”
Oh God.
His eyes moved over my face, “You looked like when—”
I held my breath. Pete stopped speaking then turned to look at the entrance to Ride. Then he scanned the Compound. Then something moved over his features and he looked at me.
“He’s been seein’ her for three months.”
Oh God.
I clenched my teeth together so my mouth wouldn’t drop open. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
Three months.
Shy had been seeing her for three months.
Three months!
How?
How had he been seeing her when he’d been seeing me?
And why didn’t he tell me?
I came out of my fevered thoughts but not out of the haze of pain I was trying to deny because I didn’t get it. What I was feeling. How huge it was. How deep it hit me. How much pain it caused.
No, I did but I was burying it.
Pete’s hand curled around my upper arm. “Let’s get you a drink.”
My head jerked back to look up at him. “No, that’s cool.” I said softly. “I’m driving.”
His head dipped down to get closer to me. “Tabby, honeybunch, let’s get a drink. Promise, we’ll get one down you and we’ll get you out before they come back.”
He held my eyes and I knew, like always, he was looking out for me, even, in this instance (though I was denying it), saving me from myself.
Pete was the grandfather I never had.
Dad’s dad was inside, serving life for double homicide. Dad hated him, I’d never met him and, seeing as Dad felt the way he did, I knew I never would.
Mom’s dad was a good grandpa, but he didn’t understand the biker life. He also didn’t have a problem sharing this and frequently. He didn’t like his daughter being in it, and he didn’t like what he thought was my dad dragging her in. Before the divorce, when we were all together, this made family visits not real fun, and I was close with my dad, so I never really forgave Gramps for being such a pain in the ass.