Lock and Key (46 page)

Jump glanced over at Miller who was leaning against the wall speaking with Junk and Kicker.

“You good?”

“Much better than good,” I said and smiled.

He nodded and let go of my waist. “Look, I want you to know that I appreciate you putting yourself out there for the club.”

“Is that a thank you?”

“Yeah.”

“Things okay with Vig?” I asked.

“So far.” He quirked an eyebrow. We’ll see how it goes. You all squared with him?”

“Blowback from his nephews and Dig,” I said. “It’s over now.”

For my best interests, I, too, could cooly take advantage of the renown legend of animosity that Vig and my husband had carefully maintained, couldn’t I? Some secrets you just can’t share.

“I’m not gonna ask,” Jump said.

“Don’t,” I said. “There is one thing I want to ask you, though.”

“It’s never one thing with you women.” He stuck his thumbs in his waistband and tugged on his jeans. “I’m listening.”

“Help Butler get clean. And if he does, give him another chance. What he did to the club was stupid, and I know he’s going to have to pay for that somehow, but don’t throw him away. Ruby had turned things around for herself. Give him a chance. We’re all he’s got.”

He exhaled. “Thicker than blood, right?”

It had proven true for so many of us. “Words to live by,” I said.

His brown eyes searched mine. “You still hate me?”

“Yes, but it might wear off.”

“Here’s hoping.” He planted a quick kiss on my cheek.

Miller took my hand and gestured down the hallway. Boner was slumped on the floor by the doorway to the intensive care unit. My heart squeezed.

“Boner?”

His strained red eyes lifted to mine.

“He’ll be okay,” I said. “He’ll pull through.”

“He was my recruit. I was with him. Right next to him. And it wasn’t a Demon Seed that got him. It was Creeper. I’m gonna…”

“Concentrate on Dawes now.”

Boner inhaled. I sat down on the floor next to him and put my arm through his.

“You scared the shit out of me last night, Little Sister.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Boner sank his head in my neck. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispered.

“I’ll never do that to you again. Not ever.” I hugged him close.

Two hours later after Dawes finally woke up, I took Miller’s hand and we left the hospital.

“I’m taking you to my house,” he said and held out his lid to me.

My house.

Outside in the hospital parking lot in the chilly air, the soft rays of afternoon sun beating down on us, those two simple words said in his deep voice filled me with swirls of warmth and promise.

I took his helmet.

We tore out of Rapid City. I leaned my chin against his broad back, and Miller rubbed my hands at his waist.

“Have you been fixing this up yourself?”

“Yeah. You remember the way it used to be?” Lock asked. “Been taking my time with it, it’s shaping up slowly. Don’t have much in the way of furniture or a kitchen, but the bedroom and bathroom are set up.”

Miller swung open the front door of Wreck’s cabin in the hills outside of Meager and led me inside. The interior had been converted into one great room, whereas originally it had been separated into a strip of a kitchen, a living area and dining corner. Now the space was open and airy. I entered and the sunlight filled the room from the new large picture window. My hand went to my throat.

Luckily, I noticed the construction supplies and tools before I tripped over them. Lock grabbed onto my hand. “Careful.”

“You cleaned the place out.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh my gosh.”

“Wreck was a hell of a pack rat.”

“Yeah, it was kind of bad.”

Lock let out a laugh. “You’re being real generous, Grace.”

I placed my handbag on the mottled black granite of the kitchen island. I ran my hand over the cold, silky surface. The rest of the kitchen had remained the same from Wreck’s day. A faded green oven with a matching fridge from the seventies and rustic wood cabinets with scratched black metal knobs.

“The kitchen’s up next,” Lock said.

I smiled at him. “I’ve cooked in this kitchen, you know. It was in bad shape back then.”

“That was brave, baby.”

“Yeah, it was.” We both laughed.

“You want to take a shower? Got brand new towels you can try out.”

That sounded like heaven.

I shrugged off my heavy leather jacket, and he took it from me. Lock led me to the back of the house, switched on a light in the bathroom, and my eyes popped open at the sight of fresh white tile on the walls and the floor, the modern shower stall, toilet and sink, the sleek nickel fixtures, the well-lit mirror.

“Geez, you don’t mess around,” I said.

“No, I don’t.”

He disappeared for a few moments then returned with a long-sleeved thermal shirt in black and a pair of cut-off black sweat pants.

“Should be okay for you to sleep in. I don’t think you’ll need any underwear. Although, if you want, I do have a black panty I found in a motel room a while back.”

My eyes shot up to his. He had my lost black panty from our first time together. “You didn’t.”

“I did, baby. Finders keepers.”

“Well, maybe tomorrow I’ll need it.”

A grin stole over his lips. “Not so sure about that,” he murmured.

My fingertips dug into the soft fabric of his sweatpants. The faint fresh fragrance of his laundry detergent wafted up to my nose and I breathed it in, my eyes closed.

“Grace?”

I blinked up at him. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Lock lifted my chin and planted a kiss on my lips. “I’m going to go light a fire.”

“Okay.” My arms wrapped around his waist, and I nestled into his chest.

He chuckled. “Babe, you going to let me go so I can get to the fireplace?”

“Not yet.”

I squeezed him tighter.

The heat from the fire instantly surrounded me when I entered the great room. A Lakota star-patterned quilt was thrown on the large sectional sofa. I stood still and let the warmth of the fire seep through my bones.

“Get in,” Lock said, his hand at the small of my back.

I crawled onto the sofa and nestled under the quilt. Lock, wearing only loose fitting pajama bottoms, got in after me and tucked the thick quilt around us.

“Better?”

“More than better.” My gaze was riveted by the urgent movement of the flames.

“I made hot tea, and I’ve got these…” He held up a package of oatmeal raisin cookies.

I squealed. “Perfect!”

He grinned and dropped the package in my hands. My fingers tore open the plastic and tugged out a cookie. I leaned my head back on his upper arm and munched.

“Can we sleep here tonight?” I asked.

“You sure? I’ve got a big bed inside.”

“The fire is too perfect. The sofa is roomy enough for both of us, isn’t it? I’m much too cozy to move.”

He slid his arm around me and tucked me into his chest. That fresh laundry scent wafted around me again, and the tension in my joints eased a little bit more.

We stayed that way for a long time, sipping tea, watching the fire, breathing side by side, me slumped in his embrace. Lock’s steady heartbeat thrummed under my ear. I was secure, on solid ground and for the first time I loosened that steel grip I had had on myself for so very long. Both of us stared into the licking flames of the fire. I offered him the last bite of cookie. His warm, wet lips grazed the tips of my fingers. Heat spread through my body like a balm of warm oil. I pressed closer into him.

“After I got out of the hospital, I only wanted to crawl into a hole, but Ruby wouldn’t let me,” I said. “She kept reminding me that even though I had lost a lot, I was still young, still had my whole life ahead of me. I had a second chance at everything. I didn’t really want to start over, but I did in a colorless, drab way, though. Never laid roots anywhere, never accumulated many belongings. I just kept moving on. Of course I had to keep moving because of Vig, but it was just as well.”

“Drab?” he asked.

“Yeah, just dead in the water.”

“You weren’t dead in the water, Grace.” Lock looked down at me, his eyes fierce. “You were just floating. You’ve been floating a good long time.”

“Floating,” I said to the fire.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You’ve got to swim to shore.”

I took his warm hand in mine under the thick quilt and covered it with my other hand.

“Miller…”

“Shh.” He wiped back wets strands of hair from my face. “My grandmother used to say that there are times when we should hush and listen to the wisdom of the fire,” he whispered.

My lips curled into a slight smile against his chest. Our fingers entwined under the quilt. The burning logs crackled and fizzled as the orange flames lashed over them and reached higher. Miller’s thumb stroked over my hand, and I exhaled. I drifted off to sleep.

“Hold on Sister, hold on!”

“I am holding on, Wreck!” I shouted. My grip tightened around his waist. We were flying across a black road on the back of his Indian Chief bike.

I choked back a scream as the vintage bike roared and increased its speed. We zoomed ahead and pierced the black velvet night.

But there was something different. Something unusual.

No headlight.

“Wreck, your light! How can you see?”

Wreck laughed and the Indian surged forward even harder and took my heart with it. “I can see, Sister. You hold on!”

In the infinite darkness another deeper blast of pipes came up behind us. My throat tightened. I desperately wanted to look over my shoulder. But I couldn’t move. I struggled to turn my head to the side.

“Somebody’s coming.”

Wreck didn’t answer. He increased the speed of the Chief. The muscles in my legs ached as I held onto the bike with everything I had. The powerful engine vibrated right through my jaw, my eyes, my skull.

“Baby, baby, where you going, baby?” the voice teased.