CRISTY
Oh god, I'm screwed.
I can't believe they just left. No warning. No goodbye. Just gone.
What about me?
I told my uncle I'd be coming here for summer break. I made plans. I bought a plane ticket with money I could barely afford to spend. And what do they do? They sell the house and move to New York without telling me.
I'm sitting on Helena's couch, staring at my phone like it might suddenly provide answers. It doesn't.
At least I have Helena. If it weren't for her, I'd be stranded at the airport with nowhere to go. I'd have to fly to New York and hunt down my uncle and cousin, and I don't have the money for that. What I have saved is for college tuition. I can't just blow it on last-minute plane tickets because my family decided to run away.
I know things are tough for them. I know they're struggling. But they could've at least told me. They were supposed to be there for me.
In moments like this, I wish I was like Helena.
She's so strong. So confident. That's what I admire most about her. Well, that and her authenticity. She's genuine in a way I've never been. She doesn't take crap from anyone, always speaking her mind, facing people head-on.
She doesn't care about acceptance.
Unlike me.
I used to pretend to be someone else just to get people to like me. I wanted friends. I wanted to fit in. So I twisted myself into whatever shape people expected. Changed my clothes, my hair, my personality. Became a hollow version of myself just to avoid being alone.
But spending time with Helena changed that.
The time I spent with her at the hospital after her accident really opened my eyes. At first she was annoyed I stayed. She made that clear. But after a while, mostly out of boredom, we started talking. Somehow we became friends.
I almost laughed at the look of horror on her face when I offered to do her nails. She explained she doesn't like that girly stuff. Said it was one of the reasons she didn't want to hang around with me and the other girls at school.
I knew there was something else she wasn't telling me, but I didn't push. We weren't that close yet.
But I told her everything about me. I felt like I could trust her. Still do. I talked about my insecurities, about why I acted the way I did at school, about the reason my family moved here and why I'd probably have to move away again.
Her acceptance was baffling.
Then she called me an idiot.
But in the best way possible. She told me I was stupid for trying to gain people's favor by losing myself. By being someone I'm not.
She was right.
After Helena got discharged from the hospital, she came back to school for a little while before starting physical therapy. For me, those few weeks were the most enjoyable time I'd had at school. Ever.
I became me again.
I traded the high heels for sneakers. The skirts for shorts. The perfect makeup for a bare face. I could sleep almost two more hours every morning because I didn't have to spend forever getting ready.
Helena actually praised me for that.
I'd never admit it out loud, but her words meant everything to me.
After Scooter left for the summer with her dad, Helena kept dragging me everywhere. I didn't mind. I loved spending time with her. We'd go to the mall, to her house, down to the river. Sometimes we'd go to the motorcycle club I'd brought her to after the accident.
The Iron Brotherhood compound.
That's when my personal hell started.
Since I was with Helena most of the time we spent at the club, the members treated me almost like they treated her. Almost. I think they realized I wasn't as strong as Helena, so they were gentler around me. More careful.
Especially Gunner.
During that summer, I grew to like him.
A lot.
When I first realized it, I literally freaked out. Cried into my pillow from frustration and helplessness. The whole dramatic mess. Then I talked to Helena about it.
She called me stupid.
Again.
I knew it was stupid to fall for a guy that much older than me. I mean, what could he possibly see in me besides a chubby kid? But I couldn't help it. He was so caring. So kind. So affectionate with both Helena and me.
After being deprived of affection for so long, I got used to it pretty fast.
Then I started craving it.
But I know it's not meant to be. He was probably just being nice because I'm Helena's friend. Yes, I can proudly say I'm her friend. We even have matching anklets to prove it. Scooter got them for us as a graduation gift.
The memory makes me smile despite everything.
"Dinner's ready."
Helena's voice from the doorway snaps me out of my thoughts. I've been staying at her house since we came back for summer. Since my uncle and cousin left, I don't really have anywhere else to go.
"Coming." I close my laptop and get up from the couch, heading to the kitchen.
I don't really know how to cook. Not much anyway. Just a few things my mom taught me before she died. But Helena says it's not a problem. She's used to cooking every day. She's been living alone for a long time.
We eat in silence. Helena hates being disturbed when she eats, and honestly, so do I. Afterward, I take care of the dishes. It's the least I can do. While I'm cleaning up, Helena heads out to get ready for the clubhouse.
I'm supposed to join her later, after I finish some errands.
CHAPTER 6: THE LION'S DEN
CRISTY
I arrive at the clubhouse about four hours later.
Honestly, I wasn't going to come at all. But one call from Helena got me moving at sonic speed. She can be really persuasive when she wants to be. More like terrifying, but I'd never say that to her face.
The Iron Brotherhood compound looms in front of me as I pull into the lot. Motorcycles line the front like chrome soldiers. Music thumps from inside, and I can hear laughter and shouting even from out here.
My hands are shaking on the steering wheel.
You can do this. Just get inside. Find Helena. Everything will be fine.
I take a deep breath and get out of the car.
"Hey, beautiful." A young guy with a 'Prospect' patch slurs as I head toward the door. He's swaying slightly, clearly drunk. "Whatcha doing here all alone?"
I freeze. I don't know him. Oh god, someone save me.
As if hearing my prayer, Helena appears in the doorway. She slaps the prospect on the back of the head, hard enough to make him stumble.
"Fuck off," she says sternly. "She's with me."
The prospect backs away immediately, hands up in surrender.
Helena turns to me with a smile, gesturing me forward. "Come on. He won't bother you again."
"Thank you," I say quietly, following her inside.
"Don't mention it." She loops her arm through mine. "Gotta protect my cute squirrel, right?"
I scowl at the nickname. Helena started calling me chipmunk at first because of the cheerful disposition I showed at school. Now she sticks to 'squirrel' or 'Goldie,' claiming I'm cute.
What being cute has to do with being a squirrel is a mystery to me.
At least she doesn't call me that in public. She claims it's "for her use only," whatever that means.
"Want a drink?" Helena asks as we approach the bar.
The place is packed. Bikers lounge at the bar and in the booths, leather cuts displaying the Iron Brotherhood patch. Girls in skimpy clothes stroll around the room or sit with the guys, laughing too loud, touching too freely.
I wish I was brave enough to wear something like that. But with all the weight I carry, I'd probably look ridiculous. Like a stuffed pig trying to be sexy.
"Hey, Cristy!" Wolf's voice cuts through my thoughts. He's leaning against the bar, that predatory look in his eyes. "Damn, you got even more beautiful since the last time I saw you."
I've learned Wolf is a player. He's been flirting with me ever since Helena turned him down, but I have no interest in him.
There's someone else who caught my eye.
And he doesn't look happy.
Gunner sits in a booth across the room, his expression dark. His eyes lock on me, and my stomach drops. Why is he angry? Does he not want me here?
"Hi, Wolf," I say shyly, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Before I can say anything else, Helena takes my arm and guides me toward the booths. Toward the specific booth where Gunner is sitting.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
I'm so screwed.
Helena slides into the booth like she owns it, pulling me down beside her. Gunner's across from us, his massive frame taking up most of the opposite bench. Up close, he's even more intimidating than I remembered.
Tattoos cover his arms, disappearing under the sleeves of his black t-shirt. The Iron Brotherhood cut hangs on his broad shoulders, the president patch prominent on the front. His dark eyes study me with an intensity that makes my skin flush.
"Gunner, you remember Cristy," Helena says casually, like this is no big deal.
"Yeah." His voice is rough, gravelly. "I remember."
The way he says it makes something flutter in my chest.
Stop it. He's just being polite.
"How's San Francisco treating you?" he asks, and I'm surprised he's making conversation at all.
"It's good," I manage. "School's intense, but I like it."
"Med school, right?"
I nod, surprised he remembered. "Pre-med for now. But yeah, eventually."
"That's good. Smart." He takes a drink from his beer, never breaking eye contact. "You staying out of trouble up there?"
Helena snorts. "She's the definition of staying out of trouble. Total angel."
"I'm not that boring," I protest weakly.
"You literally alphabetize your textbooks, squirrel."
Gunner's lips twitch, almost like he wants to smile. The expression transforms his face for just a second, making him look younger. Less dangerous.
"Nothing wrong with being organized," he says, and I swear there's warmth in his voice now.
Wolf slides into the booth beside Gunner, breaking the moment. "So, Cristy. How long you in town for?"
"The whole summer," I tell him. "I'm staying with Helena."
"That's great!" Wolf grins. "Means we get to see more of you around here."
"If she wants to come around," Gunner says, his tone sharp. He's looking at Wolf now, something tense passing between them. "She's not club property. She can do what she wants."
The words should make me feel better. Should make me feel respected, valued.
Instead, they feel like rejection.
Of course he doesn't want me here. I'm just Helena's awkward friend. The girl who doesn't belong in this world of leather and chrome and danger.
"I should probably go," I start to say, already moving to stand up.
Helena's hand on my wrist stops me. "You just got here."
"I don't want to intrude."
"You're not intruding," Gunner says quietly. When I look up, his eyes are softer. "Stay. Have a drink. Relax."
It sounds like an order. But also like a request.
I settle back into the booth, and Helena flags down a prospect for drinks. The kid scrambles to obey, returning quickly with whiskey for Helena and something fruity for me.
"To summer," Helena says, raising her glass.
"To summer," I echo, clinking my glass against hers.
When I glance at Gunner, he's watching me again. This time, there's something different in his expression. Something I can't quite read.
But it makes my heart race all the same.