Page 39 of Xander
Would I ever win against her?
Probably fucking not.
***
We geared down as we got closer to their clubhouse, which was two hours away.
Laughter and music blared.
We parked our bikes and then climbed off.
Shoot up our clubhouse?
Fine.
Because not even twenty minutes later, we watched their entire clubhouse go up in flames.
We stood shoulder to shoulder as they poured out and then saw us.
Black kuttes that belonged to the Spider Demons MC filled my vision.
Thankfully, we already had our pieces drawn.
Nuke called out, “You tried. You missed. Come for us again, and we’ll paint the streets red.”
And then we all turned on our boots and headed to our bikes.
We rode in formation back to the clubhouse.
Passing fire trucks and ambulances.
Then we rode through the fence and parked.
I made my way to my room and turned the handle.
Seeing Nola there lying in my bed.
Her dark locks fanned around my extra pillow, and what got me thinking was that I wanted to see this sight for the rest of my life.
She was in one of my shirts.
I hurried through a shower, pulled on some boxers and pajama bottoms, and then, carefully, climbed into bed, trying not to wake her.
But something must have because she didn’t even open her eyes, sleepily she asked, “You're okay?”
I nodded, “Yeah.”
“K,” she said, then her little snores filled the room a few minutes later.
Did it mean something to me that she asked?
Yes.
Did it mean something to me that she woke up to make sure I was okay?
No.
It fucking meant everything to me.
