Page 54 of Damascus & The Wildfire
I grimaced. Shit. I couldn’t exactly tell my mother I worked for a motorcycle club. She’d have a heart attack. “It’s a private club. Very exclusive. Hard to get into. They’re pretty secretive. I can’t talk about ‘club business.’” I laughed internally at my use of the term that generally annoyed me.
She hummed. “Maybe you’ll find a nice husband at this club.”
I held back a snort. “Yeah, you’d love these guys. They’re very … driven.” On motorcycles, anyway.
“Well, I know you’re busy with work, but I wanted to make sure you’d heard about Alec’s memorial?—”
I cut her off. “Sorry, a client’s calling. Love you. Bye.” I hung up the call and threw my phone down. It skittered across the countertop and immediately began to ring again. I glanced at the caller ID. It was Hatchet.
“Hey,” I answered, relaxing against the kitchen counter.
“Good morning, doll. You, uh, feeling better?” Hatchet asked, his tone pitched just shy of squeamish, which made me smile.
Men and menstruation. I could practically hear him squirming across the line.
“Yeah, a lot better actually. And I didn’t make anyone else bleed. Always a win when I make it through the first twenty-four hours without a murder.”
He let out a chuckle. “Glad to hear it. Anyway, I’m calling for Thane. He wants you to swing by.”
“Shit. Is he still mad at me for my … outburst?”
Hatchet scoffed. “No, Merrick smoothed that over for you. You’re forgiven. It’s about the Riot. Serpent and Jag are in town. They want you and Eva on board for PR stuff. Can you do two?”
I pulled my phone away from my ear and flipped to my calendar app. “Yeah, that should be fine. Is Eva coming, or am I the sacrificial lamb?”
“She had some other client meeting, so Thane asked me to call you.”
That probably meant Thane hadn’t completely forgiven me, if Eva was still his first choice. “Guess I’ll have to be OK with second place.”
“You’re always first in my book, doll. You want to go out tonight? Archer and I were going to hit up a new bar. There’ll be dancing and plenty of free drinks.”
I grinned. “You buying?”
“Always.”
“Do you think we could get Eva to come?”
“You’ve met her, right? Eva would rather stay home with her books and her dog.”
I giggled. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m still going to invite her. I feel obligated to try. Statistically, every tenth invite works.”
“Good luck with that. Pick you up at eight?”
I smiled. “Yeah, see you then.”
“Wear a jacket. We’re taking my bike.”
Something fluttered low in my stomach—equal parts nerves and excitement. “Got it. Try not to kill us.”
“You’re always safe with me, doll. I’d never let anything happen to you.”
What sounded like a herd of thundering mechanical buffalo pulled up to my house. I wobbled a bit in my heeled boots as I ran out the door. Archer and Fuse sat on their bikes as Hatchet swung his leg over, pulling a helmet from the saddlebags for me. Eva perched behind Reaper on his matte white Harley.
“You came!” I screeched, hugging Eva one-armed and sideways, careful to avoid the scorching-hot black pipes. She squeezed me back.
“I’m leaving early,” she warned.
“We’ll see about that, Grandma,” I said as Hatchet handed me the helmet. I jammed it on, adjusting the strap below my chin, and swung my leg over the bike. Most of the guys didn’t wear anything besides a backward ball cap or bandanna. But Hatchet seemed to intuitively know I’d be more comfortable with protection.
