I waver for a second as I walk down Main Street. I asked Hawke for this favor before I realized he was friendly with her, but I’m sure as hell not going to ask someone else now.
Me: Hey, man, did you set up that security yet?
Hawke: Bro.
Hawke: It’s eight o’clock in the fucking morning.
I roll my eyes. I should’ve expected this. It’s basically his standard response if I ever reach out before ten a.m. But the irony is, we both start at the garage around eight-thirty on Mondays and seven thirty the rest of the week. He’s a real fucking peach until lunch time most days.
Me: Get your shit together and get over there. I want it done by lunchtime today, yeah?
Hawke: Damn, Jagger. You pullin rank on me now?
He’s not wrong. I do outrank him within the club. It’s not something that means much of anything anymore, but I’m not above using it to my advantage if I need to. And I very much feel like I need to.
Me: Just get it done and get your ass to work.
Hawke: *salute emoji*
I switch over to my text with Coraline.
Me: It's at the garage.
When she doesn’t answer, I tuck my phone back in my pocket and continue my walk back to RGRC.
I don’t mind. I’m a patient man.
I take my time, enjoying the way the sun beats down against my back and letting the caffeine do its job. The birds sing to one another and there’s low chatter of kids playing at the nearby park. I spent at least an hour outside Coraline’s house last night, and I wasn’t shy about it. I parked in front of her house, in plain view of what I know is her bedroom window.
And not because I’ve been invited inside. I just do my fucking homework.
But I couldn’t leave without making sure she didn’t get any immediate unwanted visitors. Now I'm second-guessing my decision to leave after ninety minutes. Maybe I should’ve just camped out in her front yard. Wouldn’t have been the first time I slept outside.
By the time I left my post outside her house, I decided to crash at the clubhouse. Plus, it gave me a reason to have one of the guys grab The Titan, our badass tow truck, and get her car from outside Grand Avenue and bring it to the garage. I know she said she’d call one of her brothers to help, but that just seems unnecessary when I’m available. And maybe it’s a good excuse to see her again.
While I was standing watch, I did some digging on her asshole ex, just to make sure I know what I’m up against. I first looked him up months ago. My curiosity got the better of me when I saw them out in Avalon Falls. So I decided to look into him. Just enough to feign casual interest. Last night, I went deeper.
Turns out Grant Lawson isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends to be. A few bad bets he couldn’t cover at The Alley—Avalon Falls’s very own underground racing circuit. Two restraining orders that were later canceled and removed from his record.
I’m a block away when I succumb to the urge and slip my phone from my pocket. No new texts from her. I swipe open my socials, and would you look at that, Coraline’s post is the first thing I see. Could be because she’s the only account I follow, but I’m still taking it as a sign from fate. The caption stops me in my tracks, a smile quirking up one side of my mouth.
I Forgot That You Existed.
Now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was in reference to me. But I do know better, which means I know exactly who the dig is aimed toward.
A newly prospected Hunter.
But more unfortunately, her ex-boyfriend.
I’m not sure what I find most offensive: the idea of him and I being in shared company or that she dated him at all.
I realize how ridiculous that sounds, especially considering our shared past. But feelings are wild, unruly things. And despite my best efforts to never let them permanently attach, sometimes they do.
And Coraline Carter is the most permanent feeling I have.
Which is why I know she’s going to storm into RGRC any minute now, breathing fire at everyone who stands in her way. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something kind of fucked up about me that I welcome her bite. That when she snarks at me like that, it smooths some of the rough edges of this twisted, burned thing inside my chest.
I hear her the moment the compound’s gates come into view, a grin tugging my mouth up in the corners. My girl is punctual.