“Yep, you?” I finish filling up my tank with gas, returning the gas nozzle where it belongs, and then pull my phone out of the inside of my cut.

“Never better. Hopin’ this doesn’t take too long. Not too keen on leavin’ Valentina for long stretches of time anymore.” I can’t say that I blame him. It wasn’t easy letting Sailor leave this afternoon, then getting my orders from Shovel that I was on the road. I didn’t question it, didn’t ask how long we’d be gone, just packed a small bag, took the seat off of my bike that Sailor usually sits on, replacing it with a small duffle bag, and took off.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be too bad. Scouting a new location, hanging with Rage and Shadow. I don’t mind seeing Silas and Sedona either. It’s been a while,” I tell him, talking about my cousins. When we were all younger, the parents made it a point to get together at least a few times a year. Now that we’re older and doing our own thing, it doesn’t happen as often.

“I’ll be right back,” Bullet replies. I watch as he walks towards the gas station. No idea what he’s doing, but it gives me the time to call Sailor. I already know she responded to my text. This could very well be the only chance I get to call her before we get to work after making it to Louisiana. I unlock my phone, find her name, and hit the screen, listening to it ring, thinkin’ it’ll go to voicemail when she answers, “Hey.” Sailor’s voice is groggy, like she’s been sleeping. I figured she’d be at the bar, maybe takin’ a break, so this is new.

“Baby doll, you sleepin’?” I ask.

“Yeah, the bar was slow, which was a good thing because God, I feel awful. What about you? I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.” I make a mental note to text Lavender to have her check on Sailor. Stubborn ass will just stay in bed and not ask for any kind of help.

“What’s wrong? And just stoppin’ to get gas then we’re back on the road,” I respond to her, then I put her ass on speaker because I know once Bullet is done in the gas station, we’ll be ready to roll.

“My stomach is bothering me. Other than that, I’m just tired.” She lets out a yawn. I finish shooting a text to Lavender.

Me: Can you check in on Sailor while I’m gone? She’s at home sick.

“Get some rest. You start feelin’ worse, let me know. I may not respond right away, but I still wanna know if somethin’s up, okay?” This is a fuck of a time to be on a run, not like Shovel would let me stay home anyways, not unless she was my Ol’ Lady, and even then, it’d be a stretch.

“Yeah, thanks for calling me, but, Jackson, I’m okay. Worry about the other fucktards on the road. Do what you need to and come home, please.” The kick to my gut doesn’t help a fuckin’ bit.

“Always. Get some rest. I’ll check in.” I see the screen flash a text message.

Lavender: No problem. I’ll stop by in an hour or so.

“Later, Jackson.” Sailor never says goodbye. After she explained that she hates goodbyes because they’re permanent, I make sure not to either.

“See you soon, baby doll.” We hang up just as Bullet exits the gas station, Twizzlers in his hand. I laugh. Some things never change; the man always has a hankering for some kind of candy, and today’s no different. I put my phone away, get back on my bike, and start it up, ready to get this shit taken care of so I can be home for Sailor, already knowing there’s going to be some big fuckin’ changes, starting with our relationship.

CHAPTER 9

SAILOR

“Open the door, Sailor, I know you’re in there. Don’t make me go find your super to let me in.” That’s what I’m greeted with when I wake up from the nap I was taking, well, that and the banging on the door.

“I’m coming,” I groan, knowing it’s Lavender. Not sure why she’d call the superintendent of my building when she has a key. I’m unsteady on my feet getting up, my head’s pounding, mouth thick with saliva in that way you know you’ll be sick.

“Oh my, you look like death warmed over,” is how Lavender greets me. I leave the door open because my ass is moving down the hallway. Apparently, the porcelain throne is calling my name for the umpteenth time today.

“Go away. I don’t want to get you sick,” I mumble right before a heave takes over.

“You’re crazy, you know that, right? I’m guessing you know that already because I’m not leaving you. And a certain man heard you were sick, so he texted for reinforcements.” Jesus, Jackson is making me fall in love with him even more.


Tags: Tory Baker Diamondback MC Second Generation Romance