Crossroads (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series) - DD Prince Page 0,41
to live just like that… asking no questions.
My dad’s philosophy with Mom had been, “Ask no questions, I’ll tell no lies.”
When Mom and Dad had happy times, it seemed to me she didn’t care about anything as long as she had a cushy place to live and money to spend. And during those times, he spoiled her. My theory about those two? He’d have kept spoiling her for her whole life if she’d been faithful and a good mother to his kids.
But, she had a mean streak and a ‘me me me’ attitude and when she got like that, it’d make Dad back off, turned off, and that’d make her act out to try to get his attention. He had a temper and she loved to make him jealous, so she’d work to get a reaction and he’d go out and beat someone up.
It was like it made her happy, gave her validation, and it’d caused all sorts of hassles for Dad unnecessarily. In the early days, I don’t think she cheated… just stirred up his jealousy. Toward the end, she did. And that was the end for them.
As for club secrets and the less than above-board things that happened, I wasn’t sure how my brothers played it with their women. I suspected those girls lived in ignorant bliss where things with the club were concerned.
Club life wasn’t all guns and drugs and life on the outside of the law. It also wasn’t just rallies, club barbeques, and rabblerousing while riding motorcycles. Our club members did like to ride shiny bikes and show them off. They also got those bikes and their fingernails caked with dirt and sometimes even blood. I knew my dad ran a cleaner club than many; Rudy, too. They had leadership roles because their vision aligned with the vision of most of the members.
Brotherhood. Dominion over their own lives. Also, profit. And profit came via a variety of ways. Most of them nowadays were legit, but I knew that it wasn’t always this way and sometimes the old ways cropped up as a means to an end. Case in point – stopping the Wyld Jackals from doing the things they were doing. Our guys did what they needed to do to make that happen.
Yep – I needed information, namely what’d gone down the night before when he’d pulled me sleeping from that bed coincidentally in time to get me out before the room went BOOM.
Edge had wandered away on the phone but was now back at his bike. It felt strange sitting back there behind Christian, my knees bracketing his hips. My hands were currently on my lap and his boots were still on the ground, but I was about to put my arms around his middle. And ride with him for three hours. My heart sped up.
“I gotta make a pit stop,” Edge told us. “I’ll convoy with you two until we hit that truck stop and gas station we usually stop at and then I’ve gotta take a detour. Be back in time to ride back from The Roadhouse.”
“All right, brother,” Christian told him.
Edge got onto the back of his bike and the sound of Christian Forker’s motorcycle revving up as I wrapped my arms around his middle kickstarted my heart to beating double-time before we rolled out.
***
Edge waved as we pulled out of the gas station. We headed to the little truck stop restaurant and he headed for his detour.
“Gotta take a leak,” Christian told me. “You need to do the same, do it. We won’t stop again.”
“Want a coffee or food before we get back on the road?” I asked him.
He gave me a scrutinizing gaze. “Yeah. All right. Order me a coffee and a bagel with bacon and egg on it. Meet you there.” He jerked his chin toward the tables.
“Oh wait. Never mind. I have no wallet on me.”
He gave me an annoyed look. “Order breakfast.”
He walked off.
I watched him do it. To say he had a sexy walk was an understatement. His walk said he gave no shits about who or what was around. His walk was a cock walk. Like he owned the space he was in and had no problems asserting his will over it. Fucking sexy.
I shook a daze off, sat down and ordered and when he headed toward our table, I dashed past him to the bathroom.