Guns: The Spencer Book
Page 18
“And I think all three of these guys are like that. I think Ronin’s all in too. I just never noticed it or never accepted it before. And last year I had all these doubts about him. Who is he? Is he good? Is he bad? Will he hurt me? Will he leave me? But if I were Ronin, I’d be asking myself all those questions about me. Because I’ve been pushing him away since we met.”
She stops and looks hard at me.
“And I’m so stupid to never have recognized it before. So I think from now on, I’m gonna pull him towards me instead. I’m gonna finish out this semester. Then I’ll have a year of college under me and no one can ever take that away. So if I want to go back, I can. But I’m gonna stop thinking about what’s next. I’m gonna stop and be satisfied with what I have for a while.”
And now it’s my turn to be jealous. I slump back against the couch cushions and pull my knees up to my chest. “I wish I was anyone but me right now, Rook. Spencer’s not like Ford and Ronin. He doesn’t seem to want any of the same things as me. Like, at all. And who the f**k, ya know? Who the f**k would’ve thought that Ford Aston would be married with kids before me?”
“Spencer loves you, Bomb.”
I laugh at the nickname. I can’t help it. It’s so derogatory and sexist. But it makes me so happy to hear it. To know that’s what he calls me, and only me.
“He loves you, it’s just… he can’t be with you right now.”
I sit up immediately. “Why, Rook? Tell me why? You know something, I know you do. I want to know this. Rook, I need to know this. Why can’t he be with me?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t say, Ronnie.”
“So much for hoes before bros.”
“Ron, come on. It’s about the trials, you know I can’t say anything. It’s too dangerous. I have to testify next week. And once that’s over, things will be different.”
Will they? I don’t say it out loud, though. They all believe it will be different. Even Spencer said as much. So did Ford when he brought me here on Christmas Eve to show me Spencer’s office. But different doesn’t imply better.
“He told me he was guilty,” I add quickly to see if she’ll take the bait.
But she just shrugs. “I have no idea what that might even mean, Ronnie. Sorry.”
I stand up. “Fine,” I say amicably, but really I’m sorta pissed. I mean we are like BFF’s. Sure, she says Ford is her real BFF, but you can’t be BFF’s with a dude like you can with your bitches. She should trust me. They should all trust me. I’m not a liability. I’m strong. I can fight. I can shoot. I’m a tattoo artist for f**k’s sake. I’m sorta badass. Plus, I’ve been around for years. Ashleigh and Rook are brand new to this shit. I watched it all happen in real time.
But I’m not in the mood to fight with her right now. I just want to move forward at this point. “You said I can borrow a helmet? I’m going to the Harley shop down in Broomfield soon to pick up my own gear, so I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”
She stands and goes back to her bedroom, leaving me to wait. It pisses me off that everyone seems to know Spencer better than I do. Just plain pisses me off.
But I take a deep breath and tuck my annoyance away just as Rook comes back and hands me a black helmet with a full face shield. We walk back up the way we came and end up in the carport where her custom Shrike Bike sits under a blue tarp. She unfastens the bungee cords holding the tarp down and then pulls it off with a whoosh.
I sigh with happiness. I’ve seen this bike a million times, but it’s never looked so beautiful. Rook said she picked this bike out on a whim, way back when she first met Spencer. Back before the STURGIS contract, before season one. Back when she was modeling for the TRAGIC stuff with Ronin.
But it’s strange that she chose this bike, of all the bikes he had in the showroom back then.
Because this is the Shrike Blackbird.
The very bike he drew in my sketchbook.
The very bike I tattooed on his back.
The very first bike Spencer Shrike ever made.
And now it’s mine.
Chapter Eight
VERONICA
“I’ll follow you,” Rook says as she opens her truck door.
I twist the key in the ignition and start the bike and then nod out an OK. “I’m gonna take side streets to the DMV so I don’t have to pass the shop or Shrike Bikes. So I’ll cut out once we get back to town.”
She sighs and points her finger at me. “Be careful.”
I nod. “Yes, Mother.” She gets in her truck and I pull away and go slow to let her follow. I realize I’m the only girl in a family of six men, but holy hell, does everyone have to treat me like an invalid? Because seriously, I’m way tougher than Rook and if she can ride a bike to Chicago alone, I’m pretty sure I can handle scootin’ around town.
The dirt road is a bit muddy, so I am extra-special careful until we make it back on the main road that leads to town, but once I get there, I relax and let my mind drift.
Seeing that picture of the first time Spencer painted my body on his desk has triggered all kinds of memories. I have pictures of that day too, but I haven’t looked at them in years. Since the day he gave them to me, as a matter of fact. I was sorta embarrassed to have naked pictures of myself. And I was very worried about my brother Vic finding out about the whole body-painting thing. He’s very protective. The twins could give a shit what I do, and Vann is like my partner in crime. They’ve always babied him too—never stopped them from kicking his ass regularly all growing up, but still. He can relate to being told no all the time.
She stops and looks hard at me.
“And I’m so stupid to never have recognized it before. So I think from now on, I’m gonna pull him towards me instead. I’m gonna finish out this semester. Then I’ll have a year of college under me and no one can ever take that away. So if I want to go back, I can. But I’m gonna stop thinking about what’s next. I’m gonna stop and be satisfied with what I have for a while.”
And now it’s my turn to be jealous. I slump back against the couch cushions and pull my knees up to my chest. “I wish I was anyone but me right now, Rook. Spencer’s not like Ford and Ronin. He doesn’t seem to want any of the same things as me. Like, at all. And who the f**k, ya know? Who the f**k would’ve thought that Ford Aston would be married with kids before me?”
“Spencer loves you, Bomb.”
I laugh at the nickname. I can’t help it. It’s so derogatory and sexist. But it makes me so happy to hear it. To know that’s what he calls me, and only me.
“He loves you, it’s just… he can’t be with you right now.”
I sit up immediately. “Why, Rook? Tell me why? You know something, I know you do. I want to know this. Rook, I need to know this. Why can’t he be with me?”
She shakes her head. “I can’t say, Ronnie.”
“So much for hoes before bros.”
“Ron, come on. It’s about the trials, you know I can’t say anything. It’s too dangerous. I have to testify next week. And once that’s over, things will be different.”
Will they? I don’t say it out loud, though. They all believe it will be different. Even Spencer said as much. So did Ford when he brought me here on Christmas Eve to show me Spencer’s office. But different doesn’t imply better.
“He told me he was guilty,” I add quickly to see if she’ll take the bait.
But she just shrugs. “I have no idea what that might even mean, Ronnie. Sorry.”
I stand up. “Fine,” I say amicably, but really I’m sorta pissed. I mean we are like BFF’s. Sure, she says Ford is her real BFF, but you can’t be BFF’s with a dude like you can with your bitches. She should trust me. They should all trust me. I’m not a liability. I’m strong. I can fight. I can shoot. I’m a tattoo artist for f**k’s sake. I’m sorta badass. Plus, I’ve been around for years. Ashleigh and Rook are brand new to this shit. I watched it all happen in real time.
But I’m not in the mood to fight with her right now. I just want to move forward at this point. “You said I can borrow a helmet? I’m going to the Harley shop down in Broomfield soon to pick up my own gear, so I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”
She stands and goes back to her bedroom, leaving me to wait. It pisses me off that everyone seems to know Spencer better than I do. Just plain pisses me off.
But I take a deep breath and tuck my annoyance away just as Rook comes back and hands me a black helmet with a full face shield. We walk back up the way we came and end up in the carport where her custom Shrike Bike sits under a blue tarp. She unfastens the bungee cords holding the tarp down and then pulls it off with a whoosh.
I sigh with happiness. I’ve seen this bike a million times, but it’s never looked so beautiful. Rook said she picked this bike out on a whim, way back when she first met Spencer. Back before the STURGIS contract, before season one. Back when she was modeling for the TRAGIC stuff with Ronin.
But it’s strange that she chose this bike, of all the bikes he had in the showroom back then.
Because this is the Shrike Blackbird.
The very bike he drew in my sketchbook.
The very bike I tattooed on his back.
The very first bike Spencer Shrike ever made.
And now it’s mine.
Chapter Eight
VERONICA
“I’ll follow you,” Rook says as she opens her truck door.
I twist the key in the ignition and start the bike and then nod out an OK. “I’m gonna take side streets to the DMV so I don’t have to pass the shop or Shrike Bikes. So I’ll cut out once we get back to town.”
She sighs and points her finger at me. “Be careful.”
I nod. “Yes, Mother.” She gets in her truck and I pull away and go slow to let her follow. I realize I’m the only girl in a family of six men, but holy hell, does everyone have to treat me like an invalid? Because seriously, I’m way tougher than Rook and if she can ride a bike to Chicago alone, I’m pretty sure I can handle scootin’ around town.
The dirt road is a bit muddy, so I am extra-special careful until we make it back on the main road that leads to town, but once I get there, I relax and let my mind drift.
Seeing that picture of the first time Spencer painted my body on his desk has triggered all kinds of memories. I have pictures of that day too, but I haven’t looked at them in years. Since the day he gave them to me, as a matter of fact. I was sorta embarrassed to have naked pictures of myself. And I was very worried about my brother Vic finding out about the whole body-painting thing. He’s very protective. The twins could give a shit what I do, and Vann is like my partner in crime. They’ve always babied him too—never stopped them from kicking his ass regularly all growing up, but still. He can relate to being told no all the time.
