she can confirm or deny your story right now, kid, I'm gonna need you to fuck off."
"I don't know who—" Jones started.
I'm not sure what happened then. In my mind, I knew this was one of the bikers, and if it was, that he possibly had a gun that he pulled on my little brother, making him immediately shut up. "I can't just leave her here with you. I don't know you."
"Right. Because I would save her from you only to hurt her myself. That makes a lot of fucking sense. Look, lived here since she moved in. If I wanted to do something to her, I'd have done it by now. "
"Still," Jones insisted, and I could feel his gaze on me.
I needed to pull it together.
I had to get out of my head, off this ground, step in on this situation. If for no other reason than that I needed to for Jones.
I took another couple of slow, deep breaths, feeling my vision clearing. I didn't exactly feel better, but I could see, I could hear, I could intervene.
"It's okay. I'm fine," I said, voice small. My stomach rolled as I moved to sit, pulling my knees into my chest. I didn't trust them yet to hold my weight. "He's my brother," I added, glancing at Jones before my gaze went to the other man.
He and Jones were likely about the same height, but this other guy had all the muscles to go with it, making him look bigger, stronger, a hell of a lot more intimidating than my punk brother.
He was square-jawed with hair that was somewhere between dark blonde and light brown, with light brown eyes, under stern brows.
Stupidly good looking, that was what this guy was.
"Yeah?" the stranger asked. "Well, he's also an asshole."
"I, ah, no one is denying that," I said, trying for levity even though my breakfast felt like it was trying to find its way back up my throat.
"Harm..." Jones said, sounding apologetic. As he should. We'd have a talk about this later. When I felt better. When he had some room to analyze the whole thing. Act first, think second, that was Jones's motto. And it only ever got him into trouble. But he wasn't a complete dick. Once he had some time and space, he always realized he was being an ass, and apologized for it.
"It's alright."
"I just wanted to take you to lunch."
"Well, how about you take your skinny ass out and get her lunch, and bring it back here to her?" the stranger said, more of a demand than a suggestion.
"I, ah, yeah. That's a good idea," Jones agreed. "Chinese?" he asked, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, an old sheepish gesture he used back when mom used to chastise him as a kid.
"Yeah. Oh, and can you, ah, pick me up a few things from the store?" I asked, feeling a bit sheepish myself with a hulking stranger listening to our whole interaction.
"He can," the stranger agreed, and I almost wanted to laugh at the way Jones immediately started to nod.
"Yeah. Just text me your list."
"Thanks."
"Yeah. Ah, should I wait—"
"Nope. Go." Again, the stranger was making decisions for me. I should have been offended by him overstepping, but I was still pretty annoyed with Jones, so seeing someone boss him around for a change was amusing.
"I'll be right back," Jones said, giving the stranger a long look that he probably thought looked threatening. And maybe to anyone other than an outlaw biker, it would have been.
With that, he jumped in his car, turned over the engine, and peeled off.
"You gonna get off the ground now?" the stranger asked, looking down at me, blocking the sun as I glanced up.
"I, ah, yeah," I said, nodding, not wanting to seem like the freak he probably thought I was. I'd actually prefer to sit for another ten or so minutes, but sometimes you had to power through to appear normal.
With that, I got to my feet, brushing off the seat of my pants.
"I, ah, I'm Harmon," I said, offering my hand. I didn't know much about bikers, but making nice right off the bat seemed like a good idea. Especially if they just did a nice thing for you.
"Huck," he said, taking my hand, nearly crushing it for a second before dropping it. "Probably should have introduced myself when you moved in. But I'm not the baking sort," he said, eyes bright.
"I'm not exactly an 'I'll keep