Page 6 of Rook

I didn’t usually order any extras. There was never any money for that. But if he was offering, I was taking him up on it. Especially when I saw they had caramel. The syrup, not the sugar-free stuff that I thought tasted a bit like medicine.

I handed him the syrup and watched with a small smile as he poured a whole lot of it in my mug.

“So, you got a name, babe?”

“Tessa.”

“Tessa. I’m Rook.”

“Rook. Is that a real name or road name?”

To that, his brow went up. “Know a thing or two about bikers?”

This was a tricky part.

Did I lie to him about everything?

Or just about theonething?

Lies had a way of compounding. And each new one made it harder to keep them all straight.

“I was raised in a club,” I told him. “Well, notina club exactly. My mom was a club girl.”

“Was your father a biker?” Rook asked.

“That’s a complicated question.”

“How so?”

“Well, I imagine my father was a biker. But my mom was always a little too high to remember to use birth control. Or recall which biker she slept with or when. I had suspicions, but they weren’t exactly the kind of men willing to get a cheek swab, let alone be willing to pay child support. So…”

Rook nodded as he frothed the milk. “Was it a club in California?”

“New Mexico,” I said.

“Club life wasn’t for you?”

“As it turned out, no. I mean, not that club anyway.”

“This one looking better for you?”

“Well, the clubhouse is definitely an improvement.” I barely managed to tamp down the memory of mice crawling out from under the stove and fridge, and the occasional infestations of roaches that made it impossible to keep any food around.

“Second floor is swanky as fuck. Looking forward to having a room there…”

“Why don’t you stay here now?”

“I’m on parole,” he admitted as he passed me my finished drink. “My P.O. can’t know I’m associated with the club, for obvious reasons. But they keep a room for me here.”

“Where are you living now? In town?”

“Above the karate place that doubles as my gainful employment,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that said he didn’t actually do any work there.

“I’m assuming it’s not as nice as here.”

“One of the bathrooms here is the size of my whole apartment. But it could be worse. Definitely better than an eight-by-eight that I had to share. How is it?” Rook asked as I took a sip.

“The best thing I’ve had in weeks.” That wasn’t hard, considering that all I’d been eating lately were two-day-old gas station hot dogs and the occasional waxy egg on a bagel. Whatever was cheapest. “Do you mind me asking what you went away for?”

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