Page 28 of Strider's Misstep

Like me, a number of others have obviously arrived early, and I recognise a few from their profile pics. Oh, wow. There’s Amy Davies. She’s come all the way from Wales in the UK. I have to fan myself. And is that…? Hell, it’s only Winter Travers. Her books have been inspiring me for ages.

“J Frobisher?” An excited voice sounds beside me and hesitantly adds, “I’m Jessa Aarons. I love your books.”

My mouth falls open as I openly fangirl. I accept the hug on automatic pilot while telling her, “You’re one of my all-time faves.”

A few authors I recognise as giants in the MC fiction world I can’t bring myself to approach and introduce myself, feeling too much in awe. But I’m pulled into conversations that soon have me able to suppress my nerves.If all these wonderful peopledon’t see anything wrong with a baby author like me being here, why should I doubt myself?

Once at the front of the line, I get the key to my room, then turn around to see a very tall man pushing through the throng, clearing the way for a very pregnant woman.

“Jasmine!” she screams as she gets close.

I throw myself at her, remembering at the last moment to only give her a gentle hug. “It’s so good to see you, Sheri.”

StoryTeller coughs to clear his throat and then raises his eyebrows when he gets my attention.

Laughing, I put my arms around him, too, for a brief moment before pulling back. “It’s good to see you too, ST. Especially as my trunk is full of boxes that I need muscle to help me with.”

Sheri snorts and lightly puts her fist to her old man’s arm. “She’s got your measure, Jake.” She chuckles.

Shaking his head, StoryTeller smirks, then flexes those muscles that are going to be useful. “Come on, then. Put me to work.”

Indicating we need to fight our way back to the entrance, I follow StoryTeller as he again makes a clear path for Sheri so no one inadvertently bumps into her. I muse as I follow that most of the bikers I’ve met do not deserve the bad press that they get. They really are good guys at heart.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

STRIDER

ONE WEEK AGO…

I’m mentally crossing off days on the calendar as if I were a child waiting for Christmas, counting down the time until I have a chance of seeing Jasmine again. I’m still working on a plan of how to engineer us coming face-to-face and practising what I can say when I get a chance.

I’ve missed her being around. Even the clubhouse seems less cheerful than it was. The bar is often unmanned, and minor fights have broken out between the club girls with no one to referee. It’s not only me feeling her absence. The atmosphere is different without her.

It’s not unusual to find copies of her books lying around, and brothers reading, or having them read to them. Or at least the salient parts. By now, even the most illiterate members know our suspicions about her past. It seems everyone has ideas, but none carry merit. Without more information, it’s hard for any of us to separate what might be real life from complete fiction. There’s a quota who think she’s exaggerating to make the plotmore interesting, and others, like me, worrying she’s watered things down.

I doubt Jasmine knows how much of an impression she made on my brothers. There’s not one who isn’t concerned about where she is and how she’s getting on.

Now I’m heading into yet another church, knowing all eyes are upon me. If I hadn’t fucked up, Jasmine would be here with us now.Well, Brothers. No one can blame me more than I can myself.

Data’s hyped up. I can see that as soon as I enter. He can barely wait for me to get my ass on my seat, so I give him a nod.

“Mayhem’s a fuckin’ genius!” he announces, after my permission to speak. He then glances around.

My eyes widen in interest as Shotgun snorts. “Huh, the CIA, FBI plant in LA?”

Data seems incensed. “Whatever his background, he’s loyal to the Soulz.”

I raise my chin to support his assertion. The truth about where Mayhem came from or how he knows what he knows is buried deep under levels of security that only the man himself knows how to navigate. But Mayhem survived beatdown after beatdown as brothers doubted he was anything but a plant, and eventually earned the trust of those around him. I know his prez supports him, and if he’s come up with something interesting, I want to know.

Cutting through the shit, I get down to business. “What has Mayhem found out?”

Data bounces in his seat, barely able to contain himself. “He’s found who Jasmine really is.”

“What the fuck?”

“How?”

“Who?”

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