Page 9 of Arrow: Riding Rebels MC

“I was just saying. No need to be rude. I?—”

“Please go, damn!” My fist hit the table, and she jumped up.

When Boss, Buck, and I were alone, our conversation switched to Buck needing a new wrap. He’d gone out with a woman who he met online, slept with her, and found out that she was married. The husband vowed to kill Buck, so he said he needed a new wrap because the metallic blue was too noticeable. All I could do was laugh because that man was always in the middle of something.

After about twenty minutes, there was no sign of Charlie, so I got up and walked toward the back of the building.

“You didn’t want to come back and chill with all the chaos?” I walked into the room without knocking.

“Excuse you!”

“Excuse me, what? This my shit you in, baby girl. Plus, ain’t nothing on you I ain’t ever seen before. Why you cooped up back here like you’re on punishment or something?”

I fell across the bed and pulled the baby’s blanket closer to me.

Charlie sucked her teeth but didn’t move him back. We lay in silence like this was something we’d done thousands of times. Today was our first real meeting, and I hated that it had been under these circumstances, but I wouldn’t complain. Even with a face full of bruises and a busted lip, she was gorgeous. She didn’t shy away from her war marks, and that had me concerned for two reasons: She was either used to them, or she believed that she deserved them.

“You didn’t have to leave your friends to come check on us. We’re fine. Even better when we can get back on the road.”

“Them fools ain’t my friends. Those my brothers, and I told you if you wanted to leave, you could, but you had to come up off some information first.”

“Whatever. You don’t need to concern yourself with my business. Trust me, your life would be so much easier without me in it.”

Somehow, I strongly doubted that. Already, life seemed a tad bit better with her around, and I didn’t know this woman from a can of paint. I needed to convince her to tell me who hurt her so I could end their miserable lives, and after she did that, I would need to convince her she needed to stay right here in Rushin Mills.

Last night,I’d fallen asleep with Arrow staring at me.

The intense look he possessed let me see that he wasn’t really looking at me but through me. Almost like he wanted to commit each bruise and disfiguration of my face to memory. Arrow took the assault to my body personally, but I didn’t understand why.

Was it possible to care so much about a stranger?

“I know you ain’t sleep. Little man been up tootin’ his lips for a minute now. He need yo’ milk, or he liable to starve.”

I snorted a laugh and rolled over.

“He ate no less than three hours ago. The last thing he is about to do is starve.” I rolled my eyes and sat up.

“You don’t know. He could be in severe turmoil for all we know. Right, little man?”

Hendrix’s only response was to look up at Arrow with wide eyes.

I understood because that man was huge. My eyes roamed over the man who looked at my son the way only a father could. There were so many conflicting thoughts rolling around in my head as I watched this stranger with my son. Gideon looked at Hendrix like a burden, nuisance, but Arrow looked at him like the gift he was to me.

I reached for Hendrix, and Arrow turned him over without argument.

“I don’t want you to think that your hospitality is in vain, but we can’t stay here. I appreciate?—”

“Izzy starts cooking early, so breakfast should be done. We can go eat once you’re done feeding him. I’ll take you to the general store to get you some things after. No matter how many times you say it…Charlie—” he gave me a look like the name tasted wrong on his tongue—“you aren’t going anywhere until you tell me who hurt you. Once I have a name, I won’t stop you from leaving,” Arrow lied, and we both knew it.

Hendrix squirmed, so I put the blanket over my shoulder, then released the snaps on my tank so he could eat.

“Why do you care who hurt me? What do you get out of this situation that has nothing to do with you?”

His eyes were cold, jaw clenched, and the vein in the middle of his forehead was prominent as he stared at me.

I didn’t regret my question, but I did regret how I’d asked. Since being kidnapped by pickup truck, everyone I had come in contact with had been nice. Well, everyone except Izzy. She was cool when she found me on the side of the road, but something changed overnight, and I had too much going on in my life to try and figure out what. She made it a point to explain to me that she and Arrow were working on their relationship, which I found weird for two reasons.

One, because she had to be around my mother’s age—and although older—Arrow couldn’t have been that much older than me. Two, because last night that man had been in here with Hendrix and me.

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