Skyla’s POV

I can’t sleep, even against Goose’s warm body. My mind is too restless, I’m anxious for answers.

I have to sneak out of bed, every time I try to get up his arms tighten around me. Taking a quick shower in his attached bathroom the bruising on my wrist catches my attention.

Throwing my still wet hair up into a messy bun, I get dressed in some jeans and a t-shirt from my bag. For a brief moment I consider stealing one of Goose’s shirts, but he hasn’t moved an inch and I hate to wake him while I rummage through his stuff or step over a boundary I shouldn't cross.

I write out a quick note with my phone number to let Goose know I’m walking the devil.

Whispering, “Diablo, let’s go explore.”

After walking Diablo outside there’s really no sign of life. We wander the property only the hearing the sounds of music or TVs coming from various rooms. I find the prospects cleaning the bar and walk over to Tyler.

“Hey, Baby Face.” I tease.

“Morning, Skyla.”

“Where can I get some coffee around here?”

Tyler explains that he and the others haven’t been up very long to start their chores. He shows me through the makeshift dining room before we walk into a decent professional kitchen.

“How many do you think are around this morning?”

“Only a dozen of us live here full-time, but some stragglers hang around for the weekend. Why… you planning to feed the whole club?”

“And if I am?”

“Everything ok?” He asks, stepping closer. In just a week he’s figured me out. Damn him.

“I just need to be busy right now, ok?”

Tyler disappears to finish his chores with a promise to come back with a few hands to help cook when they’re done. I walk around inspecting the equipment, the pantry, the fridge, finally turning on the oven and playing  some music on my phone to keep me moving.

Tyler is back with two others sooner than expected, and they are eager to help although they all readily admit that they’ve never cooked a day in their lives. So making breakfast turns into a life lesson on how to make waffle batter, cut fruit and not burn the bacon.

After showing each of the young men exactly what I need from them, they find a good rhythm and have filled trays of food pretty quickly. Soon enough, the compound is filled with smell of smoked meats and warm syrup, the place is slowly waking.

In no time we turn the makeshift dining room into a breakfast buffet. Paper plates and plasticware set out for people to help themselves. Pitchers with juice and water, all three coffee makers brewing.

“You know they’re not gonna let you leave after this, right?” Tyler says, leaning against the counter.

I smile, slurping my coffee in the exact way I know is going to drive him crazy. It’s a little after 7 o’clock in the morning now, Tyler hangs back just a little longer to make sure I’m fine. 

“I need you to promise that you’re okay.” He says, looking concerned.

“I promise, Tyler. I’m nervous… that’s all.”

“I’ll take your word for it but they're talking about what went down last night with Goose and Gauge.” He hugs me tightly as I admit that I haven’t even begun to process yet. Tyler promises to come back and find me whenever he's done with the rest of his chores.

I pour a second cup of coffee and hop up to sit on the counter, throwing Diablo a few pieces of burnt bacon. I can hear a few dishes clinking about in the other room. More than one unfamiliar face peeks into the kitchen and thanks me; I let them know I can’t take all the credit, the prospects had a hand in it too.

Unknown: You around?

I can’t help but smile is my phone lights up on the counter, although we shared a bed we hadn’t exactly got around to exchanging phone numbers. Quickly texting Goose back to let him know I’m in the kitchen.

While waiting on Goose to come and find me a very imposing figure walks through. He ignores me at first, his gaze falling on Diablo lying in a corner while he pours himself a coffee, he enjoys a few long sips before saying “What the fuck is that?”

My back straightens at his tone. He’s got a long, thick beard, huge gauges in his ears and tattoos on every visible piece of skin. His hands are dirty like he’s already been outside working and he looks downright pissed.

“Breakfast.” I shrug, trying to act like he’s not intimidating.

“Why? Who the fuck are you?” He spits, his eyes take me in as if he can't decide whether or not to trust me or even be civil.

He continues to drink his coffee, just staring right through me as if I had some sinister reason to cook. Breaking eye contact to finish drinking my coffee, I look back up to find him standing over me.

“Problem?” I ask.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He snarls.

“Eat first, then decide?” I offer, regretting my decision to not wear a bra when I hop off the counter and his gaze drops to my chest. With my feet on the floor I’m suddenly aware of just how massive he is standing next to me. Not as tall as Xavier, and not as muscular ask Goose, somehow he still seems to take up the whole room.

Diablo jumps up to follow me into the next room where I make two plates. I return to set them and some plasticware next to the grumpy, mysterious man.

He eyes the plates, unimpressed. “Why’d you make all this?”

“Well, it wasn’t just me. Ty- um, Baby Face and some of the younger guys helped, I supervised of course, none of them know their way around a kitchen. I couldn’t sleep-”

“Baby Face,” he rolls his eyes, thinking out loud “who the fuck came up with that name?”

I cringe, unsure of what he’s going to do or say next. “Guilty.”

His expression changes from cold and distant to full of amusement. He fights back a smile before picking up the fork and shoving a bite of bacon and waffle in his mouth. He then points the fork in my direction, talking with his mouth full. “You? You’re the crazy bitch who had a stand-off with Ripper?”

Nodding. “I might have done that too.”

When he laughs, it sounds like he hasn’t done it in a while, like he’s out of practice. Shoving another bite of food in his mouth before talking to me again. “You must be as crazy as the rest of us, and you cook? I like you.”

“So do I.” Goose says, as he enters the kitchen. He strides over and rests a hand on my hip. He nods a greeting to the man across from me before pointing back the way he came. “I don’t think it’s ever been so quiet in there, what’s the occasion?”

“Do none of you ever eat breakfast?” I ask.

“You?”

I nod as he kisses my head, explaining again that I had help. Goose steps out to make himself a plate and I offer to refill the bearded man’s empty mug and pour a fresh coffee for Goose.

When Goose comes back he's got a plate in one hand and a pair of bar stools on the other arm. He sets one stool down in front of the mystery man before sitting on the other, pulling me into his lap right away.

“This is Skyla by the way,” he says, one warm hand holding me tight across my stomach. “Dog is Diablo, he’s with her.”

“And she is? When the fuck did this happen? I’ve only been gone a week and half.” Is the reply Goose gets.

“It’s pretty recent.” Goose smiles.

“No shit.” He shakes his head, before looking at me. “I’m Colt.”

My eyebrows shoot straight up, “You’re Colt?” This is the asshole I’ve got to rely on to answer my questions about Jase’s guitar and how it ended up here? 

Their conversation continues without me, after a few minutes I manage to escape from Goose’s lap and excuse myself from their presence. I check the trays of food that had been set out, pulling anything that’s empty and taking them back to wash them.

“Hey.” a voice behind me says. I’m startled and drop a serving spoon in the sink which sends bubbles flying.

“Damnit, Xavier! Don’t do that.” I scold.

“Sorry,” he laughs loudly, offering me the nearest towel. “Thanks for breakfast. Um, can I help?”

“No, I need something to do. If you’re up for it though I’m sure the devil would love to R-U-N.” Diablo’s still laying in his corner, both he and Goose are watching carefully.

“That I can do, can we talk later?” Xavier asks hopefully.

“I’ll be around, just come find me.”

Hours later.

Eloise had managed to talk me into changing clothes, something about to looking like I belong. The skirt she found me is entirely too short but paired well with a vintage band tee and the Converse I’d brought with me.

We’ve got another twenty minutes before ‘church’ starts, I’m sitting in the bar with Goose and Ripper trying to get as much information as I can about I should expect. They’ve gone over a few basics like what each seat means. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Obviously I shouldn't repeat anything I see or hear. No pictures or recordings.

“What about Diablo?” I wonder, I don’t know if he’ll be happy being locked in Goose’s room again.

Ripper’s quick to say “Technically, weapons aren’t allowed but not a damn soul follows that rule.”

It’s time. The room is dark and a few chairs are already occupied. I lead Diablo to an empty corner and signal him to down-stay. Xavier sits in a chair along the back wall away from the table.

Goose takes my hand and shows me to his spot, a chair next to Ripper’s. He takes a seat before insisting I sit across his lap. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Xavier stiffen up.

“Focus on why you’re here, we can deal with him later.” Goose whispers, kissing my neck.

Ripper leans closer, “Why didn’t we draw straws? I want a pretty girl on my lap.”

“Shut up, you’re old enough to be my dad.” I laugh, thankful he’s able to offer a distraction.

“You can call me daddy.” Ripper smirks.

“Oh my god, no.” I reply quickly. Andrew laughs beneath me, holding me a little tighter.

The rest of the men file in too; some openly staring, probably wondering who the hell I am and why I’m here. Goose dismisses their attention, he whispers their names and chairs in my ear as they sit. He keeps up the charade by kissing my neck and jaw. Colt finally makes an appearance and takes his seat at the head of the table.

“Bout time, Gauge is gonna have a fucking aneurysm before we even start.” Goose whispers.

I turn my head slowly to look but Goose catches my face and turns it toward him, he plants a kiss on my lips before leaning his forehead against mine and whispering. “Let him be jealous. You’re mine until this is over.”

The meeting begins as they go over notes from the last. They take turns speaking, making plans… honestly it sounds like any other boring business meeting. It’s just that everyone here smells like nicotine and alcohol.

I’ve been able to figure out that most of the club’s money is made legitimately through the garage out back and public access hours in the bar. The rest is made through ‘transportation’, I’m not sure I need to know any more than that.

“Bored yet?” Goose whispers.

“I feel like I’m in a mob movie.” I whisper back.

He laughs before answering questions about profits, and what projects the club should invest in next. As he holds a conversation with the men around the table Goose runs a hand up and down my leg mindlessly at first, but it becomes more teasing. Making his way to the inside of my thigh he stops to play with the hem of my too short skirt. Giving my thigh a gentle squeeze before he puts his hand back on my hip and holds me tighter.

“Now why the fuck is she in here?” Colt vaguely gestures to me.

Ripper is quick to speak up. “She and I wanted to know more about the guitar.”

“You mean the one that’s not hanging on my fucking wall anymore?” Colt leans back.

“Yeah, that one.” Goose answers. “We think… well the way you got it might have been tied to an unsolved crime.”

“We want to know who gave it to you.” Ripper adds.

Colt looks right at me, acting almost bored. “What the fuck does my guitar have to do with you?”

“I bought that guitar years ago.”

“And?” He’s irritated now. “You lost it? Pawned it? Not my fucking problem.”

“And… it was stolen over a year ago when my house was broken into. The night my husband and daughter were murdered. The night I was raped. They broke my ribs and my back. Left me for dead.”

I refuse to break eye contact with Colt, even as the rest of the men in at the table begin to talk amongst themselves. Goose hugs me tight as if it’ll keep me from breaking. The room grows increasingly louder before Colt slams his hand on the table, silencing them all.

“Why should I trust the words of some female that I didn’t know existed until this morning? This is a waste of time.” Colt says.

“I trust her.” Ripper pipes in.

“She had a gun on you.” Colt scoffs.

Ripper nods, holding up his fingers. “Twice, actually.”

The room resumes it’s arguing, the whole table grows loud again. Placing a hand on Goose’s shoulder before pushing myself from his lap. I don’t say a word as I look from him to Xavier across the room. It’s not any more quiet, but all eyes are on me. I turn around after placing my jacket on the table and pulling my shirt up and over my head, covering my chest with a flimsy material.

My breath stutters, and my hands begin to shake as I show everyone here the scar that starts at the base of my neck and traces my spine almost to my hips. The room falls silent as they wait for Colt to decide whether or not what I’ve said is true. Goose stands from his seat next to me and covers me with my jacket. He turns me to block my body with his so that I can put my shirt back on without an audience. His eyes are full of sadness and pride. 

“Slim from the Vipers, said I needed to hold onto it for awhile. Didn’t say why.” Colt says, lighting a cigarette.

“You didn’t ask any fucking questions?” Xavier snaps.

“Did I fucking speak to you?” Colt glares at him.

Undeterred Xavier jumps from a seat and grabs it looks to be a file off of the nearby table. He storms over to where Cole is sitting. Ripper stands quickly with a firm warning. “Boy, don’t do this here! Now is not the time.”

Goose springs into action, practically pushing me into his seat and standing in front of me, protectively. Diablo growls from the corner, unhappy with the way things are going. I give the devil another firm command to stay put as Xavier slams the folder on the table in front of Colt sending pictures and papers flying across it.

Ripper grabs Goose by the shoulder. “Get her out of here, now!”

“Skyla, we need to go.” Goose turns around to look at me.

“Goose, NOW!” Ripper yells.

Goose pulls me to move my feet, but I can’t seem to look away from the table. The pictures are of something so familiar. Xavier‘s yelling at Colt who still looks like he would rather rip Xavier‘s throat out, but has his eyes on the display across the table. Then something catches my eye, it’s me pre-op, and that’s when I understand. These are crime scene photos.

“Wait.” I plead as Goose tries to lead me away.

Managing to get close enough to the table to see the spread of photographs and documentation of the worst night of my life I quickly snatch a few from the table before a Goose can catch me. He lifts me off my feet to carry me out to the room. Diablo jumps up from his spot in the corner, barking and charging forward. 

Tears are already rolling down my face, but I managed to make eye contact with Xavier for just a second before Goose kicks the door closed.