Page 95 of Stella
“But why were the police involved?” She starts to pace again. “I mean, it has to be bad. Stay inside and away from the windows? Is someone here? Are they after us? This is crazy!”
“There’s no safer place than the clubhouse,” I interject. “Let’s face it, this place is like Fort Knox, and I’m sure the club gets threats and shit all the time. It isn’t anything we’re not used to.”
“You’re right,” Deanna says. “But that still doesn’t make this any easier.”
I check my phone, but my texts to Cale have gone unanswered:
Me
What’s going on?
Me
Please, we’re going out of our minds here
Me
D is pacing and I don’t think I can hold her forever
A few moments later, Cash comes barreling through the door.
Deanna stops her incessant strides across the room and runs to him. Caprice follows picking one of her dolls off the floor.“Finally!” Deanna says, looking up at him as he embraces her. “Cash, what’s going on?”
Behind him, Tag and Harlem follow, taking up all the room in the hallway.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he says. “I got some news today, and we need to talk about it.”
He lifts Caprice into his arms and kisses her face. “Uncle Harlem is gonna take you into the clubhouse to grab a soda, okay, honey?”
“Okay, Dad!” She kisses him and tries to blow a raspberry on his cheek. He smiles, handing her over to the big guy.
“Hop on,” he says, bending down to piggyback her.
Her bottom lip drops. “Can I bring Clara?”
“Who’s Clara?” Dad frowns.
“Her doll,” Cash and Deanna say in unison.
Dad smiles. “Of course you can, sweetheart.”
She runs across the room to grab her doll, then Dad scoops her up and off they go through the backdoor toward the rose garden that leads to the back of the clubhouse.
“Cash?” Deanna demands. “Start talking.”
We all stand there as he tells us what Cale presented him with in the meeting room. Deanna’s mouth hangs open, and she stares at her husband with a shocked face.
“Photos of us?” She shakes her head. “No, Cash. I would’ve noticed if someone was following. I’m always very self-aware...”
“These people are experts at staying hidden,” he says. “You wouldn’t have known. I know I didn’t notice anyone, and there are pictures of me and Caprice.”
“I want to see the pictures,” her voice quivers. “Show me, Cash.”
“No, D, no.”
“Cash!”
“You don’t need to see them,” he maintains. “Trust me.”
