Page 38 of Sparrow

He called. Hefuckingcalled schools for her. She was speechless.

“But this one, this one’s program is the best ranked.”

She shook her head as the tears just streamed down her face.

Dropping the brochures for schools, he frowned. “Sparrow, I came here for the club, and to do the patch over, but—” He reached for her hands, which covered her mouth. “I don’t want to leave without you this time. I’ve wanted you forever. I’m not perfect but I’m willing to try to make it work.”

She let him take her hands away and she squeezed his. She swallowed the sob trying to come out. This was it. There was no more Pipes. There were no more Roughneck Riders. The complications were gone.

“Me too.” She sniffled. “I want to try too.”

Chapter 24

Sparrow

Jacob had fallen asleep so Sparrow took the opportunity to sneak out of his room to talk to Bowie. The war of emotions within her stormed in her gut. Lightning bolts of guilt shot through her. Pipes wouldn’t have been this way if it wasn’t for her. He’d never gotten involved if it wasn’t for her. He wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for her. She’d been his kiss of death. It nagged at her as she made her way through the eerily quiet clubhouse toward Bowie’s office.

She lifted her hand, closed her fist, and gently knocked at the closed door. Closing her eyes, holding her breath, she hoped against hope he was still there. If he were a sane man he would’ve gone home. Bowie had an Ol’ Lady, Jan—good woman—and two boys. He should be home.

“Come in,” he barked on a wheezy cough.

Turning the knob, she slowly entered the office.

There hadn’t been many occasions for Sparrow to be in the President of the Roughneck Riders’ office. Hell, she couldn’t really recall one at that moment, but the office was familiar to her. The old pin-posters on the wall, the Harley Davison calendars, and Roughneck Riders emblems were all things she’d seen before. She knew that room.

Yet it felt different seeing the man behind the desk, staring at a t-shirt with a lost look in his eye. A deep sadness weighed on him like she’d never seen before. Normally he wore a mask of confidence mixed with biker-macho-bravado. Standing there, seeing him vulnerable, she felt as though it might be the wrong time to talk to him about it.

“I should’ve done better,” he groaned, tossing the shirt to the trash can. “By the club,” he said and looked up at her. “By you.”

She closed her one good eye and shook her head. “It’s done.”

He nodded. “It will be.” He steepled his fingers.

The ominousness in his voice prickled her skin and she stepped toward him. “Wh-wh—” She licked her lips, trying to get the question out. He deserved it—no matter what it was—he deserved it for what he did. However, he wouldn’t have done it had she not introduced him to the club. “What are you going to do to him?” she asked, meeting his gaze finally.

Bowie held her good eye for a while without so much as blinking, his expression frozen in a tight line. She couldn’t read it. She tried to will him to answer—to say something—to fill the silence between them, but he kept quiet.

Eventually, he sat back and interlaced his fingers over his gut. “Teach him what happens when someone lays a hand on a club daughter.”

She couldn’t help it, she snorted a sarcastic laugh and shook her head. “Do all club whores’ kids get treated like club daughters?”

He cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

She folded her arms. “My mother. I know what she is.”

Bowie furrowed his brow.

“I know what she used to be, and I know what she is. I’m not dumb.”

“Your mother made her choices.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

He was quiet again. He stared at her as though she’d laid a trap for him and waited for her to spring it. “Ask your mother.”

“I’m asking you,” she pressed.

He looked away. His jaw shifted left and right as he studied the wall. “People are who they are in this world, Sparrow,” he said as he pulled his hands from his stomach and ran one over his chin. “It doesn’t matter what you offer them—what you do for them—they are who the fucking are.” He turned his cold eyes to her.

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