Page 53 of Sold to the Bikers

“I don’t—”

“You do. Maybe not as much as you used to, but those first couple years? You couldn’t fucking look at me without feeling guilty. Every time I fucked up? You tried to take the fall for me.”

Badass frowns. “It was my fucking fault they grabbed you.”

“If something happens to Sandra, is it Natalie’s fault?”

“No, but—”

"It's exactly the fucking same.”

Maybe not exactly, but the tension and love between them, it’s achingly familiar. I can tell this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation. “Animal…”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You did an amazing thing by taking her place, just like I’m sure Badass would’ve for me if he’d fucking known, but you can’t control Crusher any more than he could predict what the Mob did. And your sister? She’s a grown fucking woman now. You’ve gotta stop thinking of her as a hurt kid.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

"She's getting her GED, right? Doing good? Working a job. Fuck, she's got her shit together better than I do. I'm just a fuckup in an MC." He laughs dryly. "So maybe try trusting her a little so she can make her own choices, huh? Why don't you fucking try calling her again? Be straight with her, and maybe she knows something that can help. You don't even fucking know why they think she owes all this fucking money."

When I push off his chest, his shirt's wet with my tears. I don't even know if they come from anger, sadness or frustration, because I'm feeling just a little bit of each one. But there’s no harm in trying again.

Again, it rings and rings until it goes to voicemail. "Hey, Sandra. It’s me again. I know you’re mad, but there’s a lot you don’t know. We need to talk, okay? Love you.”

I feel lost when I hand the phone back to Animal.

"Maybe she's just busy." Animal tosses his phone on the table next to us, refusing to let go.

"Maybe. But I don’t like this.”

"She'll call you back. It's okay." He gives me a squeeze.

The phone buzzes. It’s only a text, but it’s from Sandra.I’ll call when I’m ready.

Badass reads it with a frown. “I’ll drive by tonight.”

This time, when I cry into Animal’s shirt, he doesn't let go of me until long after I've run out of tears.

27

BADASS

I cutthe engine outside of Natalie's apartment. Fuck, Quickshot was right. It's a goddamn shithole. No fucking way we’re sending her back here to live when this is over.

And why does the idea of her living anywhere but with us piss me off so much?

I count windows, looking for the pink curtains Natalie described. The lights are on in the right ones. Either Sandra's shit at turning out the lights when she's out, or—more likely—she's home.

Good.

It's early evening, a faint reddish glow hanging low in the sky where the sun was not too long ago. Would she go out later? Nat thinks she has work in the morning, so probably not.

We should find out who owns the building. Maybe we can put some pressure on them to put a real fucking lock on the front door. An intercom system. Fuck, doors that won't be broken by any fucking schmoe who puts in a little effort. Affordable rent, I guess.

Fuck.

I should get back, but I'll hang out a little. Long enough to see some movement behind the curtains, make sure that she's actually there. With a little luck, I'll see her and know for sure.

I pull my bike onto its kickstand, then put my back against the wall of the pizza place across the road from them. It's closed, the door and windows boarded over. No one's going to give a fuck, and it explains a little of how fucking easy it was for the Unwanted to take off with Natalie. In these kinds of neighborhoods, if you see something, no you fucking didn’t.