Page 65 of Rest In Pieces
“I really do bring out the best in bikers, don’t I?”
I grab a fistful of her hair and kiss her. “You bring out the best in me. And that’s all that matters, right?”
“Be still my beating heart.” She flutters her lashes, a cheeky grin on her face.
I nip her lip before leading her over to one of the empty booths. I wait for her to slide in before sliding in across from her.
“So your club is allied with theirs?”
“Loosely, yeah. They’re allied with the Kings of Carnage, who we’re also allied with. So there’s a truce between us, but I wouldn’t say we’re buddies.”
“Is that normal? For different clubs to be friendly like that? Sorry if I’m not supposed to ask that. All I know about MCs is what I’ve seen on TV or read about.”
“It depends on the club. I can’t speak for the others, but the truce with Chaos Demons and Kings of Carnage didn’t come easy. We were enemies for years. We spent so long fighting we forgot why we even started. Then, a few years back, Blade negotiated a truce between the Ravens and Carnage, and so far, it seems to be holding. It helps that we’ve got dual members like Conan, Inigo, and even Sunshine.”
She grabs a menu and looks it over quietly as the waitress comes over to take the order.
“I’ll have the mushroom and spinach omelet with a fruit salad and a coffee, please,” Amity says.
“And I’ll take the works with a coffee.”
The waitress nods as she writes it all down. “Won’t be long. Holler if you need anything else.”
When she walks away, I turn my attention back to Amity. “So tell me, how’d you get into stunts? Is that something you’ve always wanted to do?”
She shakes her head. “No, it wasn’t even on my radar. I was a gymnast, and that’s where all my focus went. I trained every hour that I wasn’t sleeping, and I was good—really good.”
“What happened?” I ask, even though I know the answer. But it’s important that I hear it from her.
“Car accident. We were in a multi-car pile-up on the freeway. I’d just returned from the Olympics in Rio and was upset with myself for only getting a silver medal. I thought I should’ve won gold, and that’s what I was arguing with my mom about in the car. She was telling me not to be so hard on myself. That she was proud of me, but I’d spent all my childhood training. She didn’t want me to miss out on things like spending time with my friends and prom. She said that there was more to life than gymnastics, but I didn’t want to hear it. She wanted me to live a little. I was just angry because she just didn’t understand that Gymnastics was my life. And then she was gone, and I would’ve given anything for her to wake up and nag me some more.”
“She died in the crash?” I ask softly.
“She died on impact. I didn’t realize it, though, because her airbag went off and blocked my view.” She stops talking when the waitress comes back with our coffees.
“Breakfast won’t be much longer.”
“Thanks,” I say, not taking my eyes off Amity.
The waitress leaves, and for a moment, there’s silence between us as Amity takes a sip of her coffee.
“We hit a truck, and then another one rear-ended us. Our little Chevrolet folded like an accordion. The front of the car was pushed into the back where I was sitting. Mom was almost completely decapitated,” she whispers.
I reach across the table and take her hand. “You don’t have to say anymore.”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but I can talk about it without falling apart.”
“I’m so sorry that happened.”
“Yeah, me too.”
As blunt as I usually am, I find myself thinking carefully about what I say next.
“This is why you can’t have children?” I ask softly.
She nods. “Honestly, everyone was shocked that I even survived. I was trapped in the back seat for hours and had to be cut out with the jaws of life.”
She was trapped for hours with her dead mother. Jesus fuck. How does someone ever recover from that?