Page 18 of Biker Daddy

“Won’t start?” He smiled sweetly, showing his dimple. “Get in. I’ll have someone come tow it to the shop in town.”

“Thanks, Officer. I appreciate that.” But her gut turned at the thought.

“Please call me Carter.”

She blinked, recalling their time at camp. Carter had been there the day she’d fallen from the cliff. The day Drew had saved her life. And although he hadn’t been responsible for her fall, he had made a bet with her that made her skin crawl. After that day he’d tried to make amends but she had never let him. That kid was all grown up now though and a cop. She wasn’t going to turn away the help he was nice enough to offer over some teenage hormone-induced bet.

She pulled out her phone as he opened the door to his squad car for her. She sent Steven and Daniel a quick text and listened to another voice message from her father. “Are you coming home soon? The meals you froze are gone and my favorite pants are in the laundry. Some guy from the cell phone company keeps calling too.” There was no goodbye or end to the message at all. No, ‘how are you?’ nothing. Did he even remember she was there to bury his older brother?

The drive wasn’t long, but Carter managed to ask a lot of questions—ones she was too tired and too overwhelmed to answer with more than a word or two, so she was relieved when they pulled into a parking lot.

There was no motorcycle in the lot and a big man in leather, whom she had mixed feelings about, wasn’t standing at the door with his arms crossed either. On the one hand, she didn’t want to face his interrogation on her lengthy travel time, but she also didn’t want to face what was behind the big double doors alone. When Carter’s radio chirped a call from dispatch, she left him to attend to it.

He got out just after her. She appreciated his help but she didn’t want him there any more than she wanted to be picking out a coffin for her uncle. God, it was all too much. She turned to tell Carter she’d be fine, but he was walking toward a bright blue Fiesta in the back of the lot.

When Addi entered the funeral home, all the air seemed to deflate from her lungs. Her nose tingled and her eyes stung. Weakness crawled up her limbs to her core. It was suddenly real and as Ray’s only capable relative there was no one else to step in.

Uncle Ray’s gone.Her legs buckled and luckily there was a chair to fall back into. How did you pick a casket for a man who’d hated to be indoors—hated being cooped up, needed to watch the sunrise every morning? How did you bury the only person in your family who remembered your birthday, loved popcorn with mac and cheese powder on it, and wore his socks inside out because the seam annoyed him just like you?

“You’ve done this before,” she told herself aloud. “You can do it again.” She’d had to do it when she was a teenager for her mom. Hell, she’d had to do worse. She had to make the decision to end life support. The memory hit her hard. Her father’s voice was as clear in her mind as it had been that day years ago.

“She’s your mother. It’s your decision.” Addi’s father looked odd, unshaven with his gray-streaked hair mussed, and although his stare was always distant, now it was vacant as well. Being out of his office and away from the house was unusual for him, and it made him seem frail, but it wasn’t every day your wife was in the hospital hooked up to life support.

“What if I make the wrong decision, Dad?”

“Then you live with it—we live with it.” He sighed. “That’s life, Addianna.” Seeing him looking at his watch, she felt the pressure on her chest triple. “Let’s not waste the doctor’s time now.”

She’d known with how active her mother had been, she wouldn’t have wanted to live in a bed hooked up to machines, but God, she hadn’t wanted to let her go. The doctor had said even if a miracle occurred and she eventually healed enough to live without life support, she’d still have had full paralysis.

“You can’t escape your life, a husband and kid, for fun and adventure when you’re stuck in a bed or wheelchair unable to even scratch your own nose.” She didn’t say it aloud, but thought it. Maybe she’d finally get her mother’s attention then. Shame flooded her at the thought. Terrible shame. And she sat at her mother’s bedside, took her hand, and nodded to her father and the doctor.

The memory she’d dragged up had been intended to make her feel stronger, but instead she trembled more. It had taken seven long minutes for her mother to become starved of oxygen and die. Had Uncle Ray suffered? She should have been there with him. She should have taken him up on his offer to run the camp with him years ago. He hadn’t deserved to be alone.

He hadn’t been. He’d had Drew.

“Miss?” A tall, slim man in a dark suit with his hands folded neatly in front of him entered the room silently. “Miss Moore? Addianna?” His glasses were too low on his large and slightly crooked nose, and he smelled of something strong and overpowering. Her breathing quickened, and the scent suffocated her. She gulped breaths faster in hopes of getting fresh air until she was hyperventilating again. She nodded and held up a finger while she bent forward, leaning an elbow on her knee for support.

“I’ll get you some water.” The man bowed slightly, and his comb-over didn’t budge. His eyes, gray and beady, looked both sympathetic and slightly panicked as he glanced at the doors. It made her even more anxious. Shouldn’t a man in his position be used to this? She couldn’t be the first person to have a grief-induced panic attack at the funeral home.

“Baby girl?” Drew strode in through the double doors, his thick, muscled thighs moving with purpose toward her. She was instantly relieved. His blue eyes pierced hers when she looked up, and although they were concerned, they held no panic. Drew was completely in control. Crooked Nose followed, hovering. Drew turned, suddenly looking annoyed. “Come on, honey.” His gentle voice made her lip wobble, and he tried to help her up.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He wrapped his arm around her back to assist her to stand, but she didn’t have the strength. Her chest was so heavy, she was sure there was a concrete block on it—each breath harder and harder to draw in. God, she just needed to catch her breath. Drew grabbed her behind the knees and scooped her into his strong arms.

“Tuck into me, baby girl. I’ve got you.” As soon as they were alone, he sat on the sofa and adjusted her comfortably on his lap. He didn’t speak for a few minutes, just held her, massaging her neck and rubbing her back soothingly. Her breathing steadied, following the lead of his slow, sure touch. She sniffed into his shoulder, not sure if she could hold back the tears battering against her lids any longer.

“Let it out, sweetheart. Holding it in is ripping you up.” With his permission, she let out a low trailing whimper and buried her face deeper into his neck. Once Addi started, she couldn’t stop and her shoulders began to shake with racking sobs. “That’s it, baby girl, that’s it. Get rid of it.”

The door opened and Colin whispered, “There’s someone here who came with Miss Moore.”

“Excuse me?” Drew moved Addi gently over to the corner of the couch, kissed her head, and stood.

“What are you doing here?” Drew said in a low, angry tone. It sounded like the quiet warning growl of a Rottweiler or wolf.

Addi blinked and glanced up to see Carter in the doorway. She wiped away her tears quickly and cleared her throat.

“I brought Addi here. I was just in the parking lot dealing with this one.” He thumbed over his shoulder at a pretty red-haired woman. Who was she?

Drew looked at Addi with knitted brows a moment before looking back at the cop.

---