Page 6 of Making Choices

Cherub rolls her eyes again. “I’m twelve, not two… I know a hot man when I see one.”

Clearing my throat as I recognise that this conversation is taking a strange turn, I change the subject. “I’ll get dressed first.”

“Whatever.”

While she plugs in the hairdryer and organises herself, I grab the clothes she laid out and slip into the bathroom to pull them on. After two weeks of lolling around in boxers and a tank top, I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be dressed. The denim that encases my legs feels weird and the neckline of my t-shirt chokes me.

As I exit my bathroom, Cherub beckons me over to her.

“Sit on the floor and lean back,” she instructs after plonking herself in my armchair.

I do as I’m told, inclining my head as my upper body rests between her spread legs. With efficient strokes and slow sweeps of the hot dryer, Cherub makes quick work of drying my damp hair. Her fingernails feel amazing against my scalp, the first human touch I’ve been able to accept without my skin crawling since I understood what Jenna had done.

Even so, every couple of seconds my gaze strays to the bedroom door. If Zeke catches us like this, he’ll jump to the wrong kind of conclusion, and my face will resemble tomato pulp before I can explain. He’s been over-protective of Cherub for as long as I can remember—something that everyone at the club has commented on more than once.

Normally with something akin to awe at their bond.

Zeke and Cherub’s connection is strange yet comforting to witness.

It’s not at all creepy like Brutus recently alleged.

Just unusual in a world that likes to sully good things with bad intentions.

“Holy fuck,” I curse when Cherub drags the brush through my dry locks and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. “Who knew havin’ your hair brushed felt so good?”

“It always feels better to have someone else brush your hair than it does when you do it yourself,” she tells me. There’s a wistful quality to her voice when she adds. “It’s such a small thing, but it’s what I miss the most now she’s gone... even though it used to annoy me before.” Her movements are assured and quick as she scoops my hair to my crown and twists it into a knot. “Not being around to remind you of the small things is what worries me about leaving you.”

“What do you mean leavin’?”

Cherub winds a sandy coloured hair tie around my hair to secure it in place. “Dad’s given Hades the president’s patch. He’s moving us to Inadale to start a new chapter… apparently, it’s too hard for him to be around the compound and our home without Mum.”

“You’ve gotta be mistaken.” My arms shake as I push back to my feet. “Fuckin’ Brutus would never step down.”

“Oh, he hasn’t stepped down.” Cherub screws up her face. “He’s going to be president of the new chapter and vice president of this one.”

“That’s not…” The rest of my sentence dies on my tongue as my door is flung open and Zeke strides in. I whirl on him, disbelief in my voice as I demand, “Did you know?”

“I just found out.” His voice is choked as he looks down at Cherub. “Why didn’t you tell me, Lily?”

“What could you have done about it?”

“I don’t kn-know,” he stutters. Jamming one hand in his hair, he holds out the other to Cherub. She links fingers with him but remains seated. There’s an air of inevitability around her that doesn’t dissipate when Zeke says, “Come on, we’ll go talk to him.”

“The time for talkin’ is over,” Brutus announces from the doorway as he barges into my bedroom. He glares at Zeke, the muscle in his jaw working overtime. “Now you can quit fuckin’ with little Cherub’s head and let her—them—go. They needa start a new life…away from here.”

“Away from the club?” Zeke growls and his right leg starts bouncing. Knowing that’s never a good sign, I exchange a worried look with Cherub. “Scarlett hasn’t even been gone a fuckin’ month and you think takin’ them away from their family will help? You’re fuckin—”

“I’m the only family they have left.”

“That’s fuckin’ bullshit and you know it,” I tell our president. “They’re Shamrocks… that makes us their family too.”

“Neither of you are Shamrocks, yet, and if it was up to me that’s how it’d stay.” Brutus dismisses me and Zeke with a curl of his upper lip. He mimics Zeke’s posture and holds his hand out to his daughter, flicking his fingers impatiently. “Come on, little Cherub. It’s time to go.”

Cherub casts a glare at Brutus’ outstretched arm.

I snicker.

My ex-president sneers. “Move your arse, girl.”

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