Page 14 of Arrow: Riding Rebels MC

“Is there a reason you dragged me out here? It’s cold?—”

I removed my leather jacket from my shoulders and tossed it across hers.

“I needed a second to escape the noise.” I swiped a hand down my beard and sighed. “Sorry about Izzy. She really does way too much too often. The fact that Boss had to call her father just for her to get off my back is embarrassing, especially since she’s ten years older than me.”

“No need to apologize for her behavior. She’s in complete control of her actions. What’s the deal with you two?”

That was such a loaded question.

There was a point in time when Izzy was my old lady, and she was the only thing I could see. Boss hated her, and my father loved her, so that should have been the first red flag I listened to. However, it took me five years to see that I was just a pawn in a game I didn’t know I was playing.

It was too much to unpack, so I shrugged.

“It’s complicated.”

“Well, uncomplicate it. She’s acting as if you’re treating her the way you do for no reason.”

I looked Charlie over, then said, “I’ll tell you what’s up with me and Izzy if you tell me your real name.”

I smirked, and Charlie turned on her heels and walked toward the direction of my shop.

Laughing, I followed behind her as she marched on. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but it couldn’t have been for me to give her all my business when she had yet to be honest since she was found on the side of the road. Actually, she had been telling the truth about needing to get out of Rushin Mills and Hendrix’s name. It was cool, because I had Tech looking into her. However, I wanted to hear the details come from her mouth.

Either way, I would solve the mystery of who her husband was.

“Why do they call you Arrow?

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”

“You are impossible.” She blew out a breath.

I wrapped an arm around her shoulders and ushered Charlie to the locked doors.

There was a keypad to the right of the door, and I made a big show of turning her away and entering the code. Charlie giggled and scoffed. The code recycled every seventy-two hours, but I figured if I made a fuss, it’d add to my mystery. As soon as we crossed the threshold, I flipped the lights on, and Charliegasped. The showroom floor had a bike, sedan, and truck that were wrapped in different colors.

Charlie walked around each vehicle and lightly brushed her fingertips against them.

“You did all this?”

“These, yes, but I have a team with me. I’m mostly on paperwork now, keeping up with orders.”

“I’ve always wanted to design jewelry. I love working with my hands.”

I nodded because I agreed.

Working with your hands was a different type of art. I wanted to ask her why she never got into her passion, but I knew the answer. Charlie’s husband—even though I didn’t know him—was the type that kept focus on him to feel important.

Charlie enjoying something that didn’t serve him wouldn’t be accepted.

“Really? Like a jeweler, or them pieces that your kid makes you with string and macaroni?”

A snort followed by laughter flew from Charlie’s mouth, and she covered it with her hand.

“You’re annoying.” She wiped the corners of her eyes. “Not like a jeweler, but the same concept of a macaroni necklace.” She giggled. “It’ll be handmade jewelry with different beads, stones, and fun things.”

“Shit sounds legit. Maybe now you can look into it and step into your purpose.”

She cocked her head to the left and squinted as she stared at me.

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