Page 10 of Biker Boo
“Oh no, Melanie?”Derby says.
“Which one’s Melanie?”Rye asks.
“New bunny,” Oaks mutters.“Red hair.”
Rye shakes his head confused.
Oaks nudges him, “Big bush.Don’t shave down there.Remember her from last weekend.She was dancing on the pool table, and you called her Captain Red Pussy, and she kicked you in the nose.”
Rubbing his nose, Rye nods.“Always hanging on Derby last week.”
“Not mine,” Derby shoots back, holding up his hands.
“Doesn’t matter,” Legend growls.“She’s gone.Two girls in one week, both with ties to Pearly Gates.”
That gets everyone talking.Theories.Bets.Conspiracies.Some say the Reverend’s snatching back strays.Some say it’s a rival club.Some say it’s the same shadows that killed horses a decade ago.
I don’t say shit.I just sit there thinking about Becki.
Her laugh.Her stubbornness.The way she drapes herself in trouble like it’s silk.
She used to belong to Pearly Gates too.Reverend’s girl.Which puts her on the wrong list, the one where women go missing.
“Royal,” Legend calls, snapping me back.
“Yeah?”
He jerks his head toward the hallway.“Walk with me.”
We leave the table buzzing with theories and crude jokes.Out in the hall, the walls feel closer, like the jail still remembers locking men inside.Legend lights a cigarette, takes one drag, then fixes me with those brown eyes that don’t miss a thing.
“I need you to keep an eye on Becki,” he says.
I don’t flinch, but inside something shifts.“You got Oaks, Derby, hell, the whole club.Why me?”
“Because you don’t run your mouth,” Legend says flat.“And because she listens to you.Sometimes.”
I huff a laugh.“You sure about that?”
“She’ll push back, but she won’t run.Not from you.”He takes another drag.“I can’t do it myself.Not with Hannah around.”
“Hannah,” I echo.“That serious?”
He exhales smoke.“Fuck no.She’s company.That’s all.And Becki scares off company.”
I want to call him a liar, but I don’t.I just nod once.“Fine.I’ll watch her.”
But I don’t tell him, I’m planning to watch her anyhow.I’m always watching her.
Legend grips my shoulder, firm.“Keep her safe, Brother.She’s reckless.But she’s still mine, in a way.My problem, anyhow.”
I don’t answer.Can’t.
Because she’s not his.Not really.
But she’ll never be mine either.
I want to say it, but I bite my tongue.Fuck, I was born with blood on my tongue and poetry in my mouth.
