Page 87 of The Vows We Keep
“Perhaps we should let Catalina decide what to do with them,” Niro says as he winks at me. But there’s pride on his features. And it fills me with more warmth than words ever could.
“Agreed,” King says.
Briar looks down at her feet. “My toes look a really long way away.”
Saint sweeps her up into his arms. “As much as I want to take you on the bike, we should get you and Martin back in the van.”
We all look over to where a rather battered Martin is clutching his ribs. “Think I might need Switch to strap my ribs up.”
“Why can’t I ever be the one who decides what happens to bad guys?” Briar asks Saint.
Saint cups her cheek. “Remember the last time you and I had to deal with bad guys?” He tips his chin at King. “You confused them with a take-out delivery and buzzed them in.” And I’m guessing there’s a story behind it that I don’t understand.
But a bubble of laughter begins, rippling through the group, until everyone is laughing.
“I don’t get it,” I whisper to Niro.
“Saint was an undercover ATF agent.”
I do a double take. “What? Why is he here?”
“Long story. But he is. We’ve moved on as a club with him in tow.”
It gives me a whisper of hope. The Outlaws seems so forward thinking. The club has moved beyond the stronghold of homogenous men. There’s some diversity. Hell, Vex is a much-respected member of the club and a Black man and there are two more men of color in the prospects. And they’ve flexed the rules enough to accept a former ATF agent. And tonight, they paid me to look after the old ladies, which I did. Maybe they could learn to see me as valuable.
Niro slips out of his thick leather jacket, revealing his hoodie. “Don’t care how fucking cold it is, you’re coming on my bike.”
“Is that a promise?” I ask playfully as I slide my arms into his thick lined jacket. It smells of him and is warm.
“Cariño, don’t. If I get a boner in this windchill, it might snap off.”
Arrangements are made for the van, bikes, and people. Niro holds my hand as he leads me to his bike. He’s parked next to King. I’m guessing he already bundled Rae into the van. I like that Niro looks out for me in his own way but doesn’t treat me as too precious to exist outside of typical old lady boundaries.
“Hey, Cat,” King says, pulling on his helmet. “You did good.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Niro tilts his bike for me to hop over, and I climb on, snuggling close against his back. I tuck my arms tightly around his middle. He’s going to be cold riding into the wintery weather with only a hoodie and whatever is beneath it. But in the same way he lets me be who I am, I’m going to let him be who he is.
As we pull out of the parking lot, I think about how I first arrived at the clubhouse and how my life has changed in such a short period of time.
If I weren’t so fucking happy right now, I’d wonder if it were all too good to be true.
28
NIRO
Inever realized how good a day could feel if you start it naked underneath soft and warm blankets and wrapped up in someone you really want to be around.
Catalina has replaced strong espresso coffee and warm cinnamon rolls as my favorite way to start the day. My addiction to her is way stronger than the one I have to caffeine.
My phone pings with the sound reserved for King, and I throw out an arm to reach for it.
King:Church. One hour.
It’s only eight o’clock, it’s not even properly light outside.
I put the phone down and wrap my arms around Catalina again. “Babe,” I whisper.
