Page 2 of Her Grumpy Biker
Walking up to the front of the store, I look around at the dozen or so other patrons of Bloom & Bounty Grocery, searching for white-blonde hair. I don’t see anything, but I’m surprised when I get to the register and am greeted by someone I’ve never met.
“Hi,” the woman says enthusiastically. She has long brown hair, so she can’t be the woman I’m looking for.
I nod in acknowledgment of her greeting.
“It’s been kind of a weird day around here,” the cashier says.
I nod once again, not engaging further in conversation. It’s not that I’m annoyed; I’ve just reached my limit of being in public spaces.
“Like, something is definitely going on outside. Someone keeps talking to customers as they come and go, but I haven’t had a chance to investigate further.” She looks at me like she expects me to say something. That’s how I know she’s new in town. Everyone else is used to my grunts and nods in place of actual words. “I’m Stevie, by the way.”
“Deadeye,” I say. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at my introduction. I don’t offer any further explanation that it’s my road name or that I belong to a motorcycle club. She doesn’t need to know any of that.
“Well, anyway,” Stevie says, recovering smoothly from my stilted and awkward social skills. “Nice to meet you. I’m new here, but it feels like home already.”
I gather up the brown paper bag containing my rations for the week, ready to get the hell out of here and back to the safety of The Black Crown, a biker bar where my MC has its clubhouse.
As soon as I’m outside, I’m confronted with the man Stevie was talking about. He’s dressed in starched khakis and a white button-down shirt, but the clothes look like more of a costume on his big, burly frame. He looks familiar, though I can’t quite place him.
His beady dark eyes meet mine for half a second, then focus on the woman standing in front of him, holding a large clipboard. “For just ten dollars a month, you can feed these puppies and make sure they’re adopted into nice families.”
I don’t know what this man’s endgame is, but I know for a fact he doesn’t give a shit about shelter puppies. His voice is over-the-top polite and caring, to the point of coming across as sarcastic. Surely, most people can tell he’s a slimy asshole just by looking at him.
“Oh my gosh, of course, I’ll help!”
The voice is light and airy, the sound breezing through me and swirling around my chest, making it hard to catch my breath.What the fuck?I look at the owner of the voice, then blink a few times, not sure I’m seeing things correctly.
Yep, she’s still there. White-blonde hair, green eyes, and if I look over her shoulder, I can see her piece of shit car parked not too far away. This must be Camden, the woman Cutter was telling me about. He failed to mention she’s curvy, bright, and beautiful in a way I can’t quite comprehend. Then again, Cutter seems pretty caught up in his own woman.
“Great,” the slime ball says, a little too pleased with himself. “I’ll just need your Social Security number to verify your identity. Then you can confirm your routing number and send us the first ten dollars directly from your bank account.”
Jesus Christ, what a stupid scam. No one is falling for this, right?
“That makes sense. Where can I write down my Social Security number?”
“Don’t,” I bark out. Camden jumps and snaps her head up, her green eyes hitting me with full force. Her cheeks turn pink, then red, the contrast making her eyes stand out all the more. It knocks the breath out of my goddamn lungs, taking me a moment to recover. “Don’t give out your personal information. Especially to this dumpy fuck.”
I glare at the man, and he glares right back. His too-sweet smile twists into a menacing frown, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s pathetic, preying on vulnerable people to further his own agenda. I could snap his spine in an instant, and the look in my eyes conveys just that. He grumbles something under his breath and then backs away, heading toward the parking lot. Good fucking riddance.
“Well, that was mean,” Camden informs me. I look down at her, then immediately avert my gaze. She has her arms crossed over her chest, inadvertently pushing her generous breasts up. I don’t want to be a creep, but Christ, I’ve never felt like this around anyone before.
“He was lying to you to steal your identity.”
“My identity? I’m still me.” She looks so innocent and confused.
“Your legal identity,” I clarify. “Social Security Number, bank account information, stuff like that. He was going to use that to empty your bank account and take out credit cards in your name.”
Camden’s green eyes go wide, and she covers her mouth with her hand. “No way,” she mumbles. Camden drops her hand and purses her lips to one side as if considering something. “Thatcan’t be true. What about the puppies? He had pictures and everything.”
“Anyone can get pictures of puppies and make a fake sign-up form for donations. You can’t just trust everyone you come across. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to give out your personal information?”
She blinks several times, and I can tell she’s thinking about another life, a previous life. Perhaps the life Cutter said she was escaping from. “No, not really,” she answers.
I’m surprised at her response, though I don’t let it show. “Then let me be the first to tell you. People are often selfish, cruel, and driven by their own interests. Don’t trust anyone, especially someone asking for your Social Security Number.”
Camden furrows her brow and places one hand on her hip. I try, but fail, not to look at the motion. I seem to be unable to help myself. How is she controlling my actions and thoughts without even trying?
“That’s not true,” she says after a beat. “I’ve met some nice people on my recent travels.”
