Page 14 of Room Twenty: Owning Their Angel

That’s it. Just that simple.

“We’re getting on the road tomorrow,” Viper answers Prez and the knot in my gut starts to loosen.

One more night and then we’ll be closer to getting to the bottom of what the hell happened and making sure Heather knows that her home is with us. Always.

CHAPTER 7

GRAY

I see a water tower on the edge of town with ‘Sweetwater Valley’ painted on it in bold colors. The color isn’t faded which tells me, before I’ve even entered the town limits, the people who live here care about this place. It makes my chest feel tight because this is the kind of place that can easily feel like home. Has that happened with Heather?

Will we be able to get her to come back with us to New Orleans?

I feel jittery, partially because I’m driving an SUV instead of being on the back of my bike like Bedlam and Scope. Fucking straws. I should have just pulled seniority on Scope’s ass, but it wouldn’t have been fair.

Fuck fair.

We’re about to head into a war for our woman’s heart. Fair should have never come into play and yet here I am, trapped in a damn cage as I watch the scenery of this damn idyllic town roll on past my windows.

It’s beautiful in this area where fall has settled in. The changing leaves are beautiful, and the weather is crisper than it is in New Orleans. I bet the air is cleaner too.

Bedlam is riding out in front of me while Scope brings up the rear and I’m wondering if they’re having the same thoughts I am. When I look into the rearview mirror and see the scowl on Scope’s face, I have a feeling he is, at least.

When we get into the heart of Sweetwater Valley it looks like the town belongs on a fucking postcard declaring ‘Wish You Were Here’. Damn it.

I didn’t think Heather would run away to some perfect place. Don’t get me wrong, part of me is glad because I would be pissed if she was in some shithole town, for an entirely different reason. However, if the town was crap it would be easier to get her back home.

I noticed a large bar and restaurant called The Goose a little farther out from the center of town and I wonder if their food is any good because I am starving. The drive wasn’t more than eight hours, but we didn’t stop much considering the need to get to our woman has been riding us hard for three fucking months now.

On the main drag of the town there’s a hair salon, a bookstore and coffee shop, a bakery, a mechanic and then, when we’re close to the edge of the main drag, a fire station. I’m pretty sure I saw the realtor office our woman is working at not far from the grocery store. There is probably more to see, but I didn’t want to run Bedlam over and we were already getting looks from some of the people in town.

I wonder if it was because of the two big dudes on bikes or if there’s another reason. Not that it matters, we’re not here to start trouble. We’re just here for love. I wonder if that’ll buy us some goodwill with the people who live here.

Who doesn’t like a good romance? I know Heather would read them with a soft smile on her face when she didn’t think anyone was paying attention. What she didn’t realize is I was always paying attention to her.

There are some guys out there who would give their woman a bunch of shit for reading romance. Not me. My mom is a big reader and romance is one of her favorite genres. She would always get this dreamy look on her face when she would finish one while clutching the book to her chest like she could absorb all the goodness from the inside.

I found it funny because my dad adores her and was always doing sweet things for her. He would bring home flowers randomly and always cooked when he was home so she could get some rest. He would take her to bookstores and tell her to go crazy. He was always finding a way to touch her and kiss her.

Even though she was living her own romance, she still found so much joy in the love of others. Not that my mom couldn’t be a hard ass when she needed to be, but there was always a feeling of love and acceptance surrounding her. Growing up it was the norm, which means I didn’t really appreciate it or see how lucky I was.

There was a while there, in my teen years, when I found their affection and love a little gross. Then I saw it for what it was—something to envy.

I never figured I would find the same kind of love for myself. Then I walked into the DSMC clubhouse and saw Heather. I didn’t know she was an angel at first, I just knew she was mine. Finding out her role in the club didn’t turn me off, but it did make me wonder how we could work.

Bedlam saw the way I was looking at her and then the same look on Scope’s face when he came along. I remember watching Scope see Heather for the first time and leaning over to Bedlam and asking, “I didn’t look like that, did I?”

When I looked over at my friend, he was smirking at me. “Worse,” he confirmed, and I flipped him off.

I remember trying to find the need to be jealous. I couldn’t. But I knew if anyone other than us looked at her twice, whether they were in the club or not, I would rip their heads off.

It took us a little time to wrap our minds around the situation, but we got there eventually. Then we did our best to keep Heather close while also keeping our distance. We told ourselves it was for her sake, but now, when we’ve been without her for the last three months, I’m not so sure.

All I’m certain of is we have a lot to make up for.

Still, this is a nice place. The longer I’m here, the more I wonder if we’re just being selfish pricks again. What is the right thing for her? We thought we knew before and my gut is telling me our assumptions hurt our woman.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself without her in my life. Still, if she’s happy shouldn’t that be enough? Isn’t that what I should want? Even if I’m not there to experience her happiness with her?

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