I rub a hand over my face as exhaustion hits me and I grumble, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
CHAPTER 3
GRAYCIE
The look in Opal’s eyes when I open the door to my place has me worried. She’s up to something; it’s the glint in her eyes. She wants something from me and my gut is telling me that it’s going to be a big ask.
Her lips part and I start shaking my head, not needing her to say a damn word. The pout she gives me is epic and I almost laugh. Almost.
I point to her face and make a circular motion. “That’s not going to work on me, ma’am.”
“Ma’am? Why, Graycie? I’m only 30,” she whines.
“Well, I’m just showing respect to my elder,” my voice is sickly sweet. The glare she gives me would have worked when I first moved to Dogwood Ridge, but I’ve found some of my strength again.
Not all of it, but enough. It feels like a fucking triumph.
“You’re only two years younger than me,” she deadpans.
With a shrug of my shoulder, I step out of her way and singsong, “Still counts.”
The look she gives me would probably make the bikers she works for, the ones she considers family, think twice about crossing her. But I’ve learned she’s all bark and no bite. I’m aware of when fear is required, but when it comes to Opal, there’s nothing to fear.
I expect Opal to sweep in and take her place on my couch, but that’s not what she does. She goes straight towards my bedroom like she’s on a mission.
“What’s going on? Where are you going?” I call out to her, but she doesn’t even turn around.
I’m forced to follow her into my bedroom. Which is where I find her standing while staring into my closet like it holds all the answers to life’s greatest mysteries. Trust me, it doesn’t. It also won’t take you to Naria; I’ve tried.
“What are you looking for in there?” I ask her while looking over her shoulder.
Opal jumps slightly as if she didn’t know I was right there. It’s not like I was quiet. I grin at her and she just huffs out a breath like rolling her eyes.
“I’m looking for something you can wear,” she says it like she’s answering all my questions. Far from it.
“As you can see,” I make a sweeping hand gesture to encompass my body, “I’m already dressed for the day. Why are you looking for something for me to wear?”
She looks at me and then her gaze travels down my body. The judgement written all over her face is justified considering I’m wearing leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. What else should I be wearing on my day off? I’ve spent most of the day cleaning my apartment. Who am I impressing anyway?
“Yeah, you can’t wear that,” she says dismissively before looking back at my closet. She starts reaching for things and then glancing back at me. Her voice is light when she informs me, “I’m taking you to a family party at the clubhouse.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly before telling her, “There is no way I’m going to a party at the clubhouse.”
“Yes,” she insists, “you are.” She starts holding up her fingers with every reason why I should go. “You need to get out of the house more, and I don’t mean to go to work. You can’t keep hiding. Family parties at the clubhouse are fun and the guys are on their best behavior. I trust the club with my life, and I think you could too, if you gave them a chance. I’m going and I want you to go with me.”
Her eyes plead with me while I try and think of any reason that I can give her to get me out of this. I’m grasping at straws though. When I realize I’m coming up with nothing, my shoulders drop.
Opal, knowing she’s won this round, does a little happy dance. Then clothes are hitting me and I’m barely able to clutch them to my chest before they drop to the floor.
“Great,” she chirps. “Get dressed. We leave in ten minutes. The guys have the grills going already and since spring seems to have taken pity on us today, we’ll be spending most of the day outside.”
Then she breezes out of my room, and I can’t help but shake my head at her, even though she can’t see me. But I do get dressed and I allow her to shuffle me out the door and into her car. During the drive she’s singing along to the radio, but I’m thinking about how much it would hurt if I opened the door and rolled my ass right out.
It’s probably not worth the trip to the hospital, but it’s tempting. Very fucking tempting.