Page 47 of What Is Love
“He’s throwing back drinks like they’re water,” Wyatt said. “If he’s forceful with you now, I don’t want to imagine what he’s like when completely drunk.”
“I can’t just leave. I—” Wyatt voicing the fears I already had made it hard to convince myself to stay—to not give in to what I wanted versus what I was supposed to do.
“Just text him that you’re feeling sick and went home,” Wyatt suggested. “I doubt he’ll check his phone for a while.”
I’d get punished for leaving like this if Mother found out. There would be broken bones for sure, but the alternative of going back and dealing with him…I’d rather risk having my bones broken.
“I didn’t drive here and I’m not getting on the back of a motorcycle,” I said.
Wyatt reached into his back pocket and pulled out keys. “Well, it’s a good thing I brought my car.”
Chapter Twelve
Wyatt’s car was an old,beat-up 1966 Chrysler Imperial. I had not known its make and model just by looking at it. Wyatt had told me. He had also said it was the same car a superhero had used in an old TV series, and the moment he’d seen it in the junkyard a year ago, he’d just had to have it. The inside of the car looked like he had fixed it up. Its matte light gray exterior, though, was covered in dents and scratches. The trunk was taped closed and there wasn’t a handle on the front passenger door. Wyatt had to open it from the inside just to let Roe in. I didn’t judge. I knew he was in the process of restoring it, but when he turned it on and things rattled, I did wonder if we’d make it to our destination.
While I sat in the backseat, I sent a text to Brandon saying I was sick and had taken a rideshare home. As soon as I sent it, I turned my phone off and shoved it into my wristlet. I was feeling a little bit of the alcohol Brandon had ordered me to drink and the sips I’d had from the vodka bottle. It was probably what had given me the courage to walk out of that party and text Brandon.
“Reid asked if we could swing by and pick up Mac on the way,” Roe said as he texted on his phone.
“Is she at Bram’s house or Reid’s?” Wyatt asked.
“Bram’s,” Roe answered.
“Bram’s house?” I repeated. “As in the Haven’s Rebels’ president?” As in the same man I’d met at the movie theater.
“Yeah. He’s married to Reid and Mac’s mom,” Roe answered.
“He’s Reid’s dad?” I asked, shocked. I remembered Wyatt telling me that Reid’s dad was a really bad man. The guy at the movie theater had seemed nice.
“No,” they both said at the same time.
“Bram and Vivian got married three years ago,” Wyatt explained. “Reid and Mac’s bio dad is…”
“Out of the picture,” Roe said.
“Oh,” was all I could think of to say. Reid was the MC president’s stepson. Interesting.
“I hate to bring this up, but I figured since we’re swinging by to pick up Mac, we could borrow something different for Lottie to wear,” Wyatt said.
“What?” Roe asked, sounding as confused as I was.
Wyatt’s forehead wrinkled with worry. “Lottie, I think you look very beautiful, but you’re going to stand out in that pink dress.”
Roe glanced back at me, taking in my outfit. “She’s beautiful. That’s already going to draw attention.”
“There’s nothing we can do about that, but do you want to put her in a bar full of drunk Rebels members while she’s wearing those clothes? Really think about it, Roe.” Wyatt looked at me through the rearview mirror. “You should be able to wear whatever you want wherever you want, but for safety, would you humor wearing something that will help you blend in a little?”
“I would prefer not to be noticed. So I’m good with it,” I said.
Roe got to texting again and by the time we pulled up to Bram’s house to pick up Mac, she was already outside with an armful of clothes. The MC president had a nice house. It was a two-story home with a two-car garage in a newer neighborhood.It had a nice green lawn, a long driveway, and flowers planted along the path leading up to the front door.
Roe got out of the car so he could pull the seat forward to let Mac climb into the back with me. She was dressed in skintight jeans that were ripped all over, exposing skin in different spots all up her legs. She had on laced-up matte black boots that had a thick heel and went up to mid-calf. Her shirt was a black halter body suit. Her brown-and-caramel hair was up in a messy bun, and she had on sparkling black dangle earrings. Her style was grunge and hot. Whereas mine was feminine and delicate.
She looked me over. “I see what you mean. Everything about her screams ‘princess from the north side of the bridge.’”
“Should I be offended by that?” I asked.
Roe climbed back in and Wyatt drove off.
