Sinister Knights MC #1-3

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

A nna

My chest ached as I woke up the following morning, the feeling of emptiness still radiating through me.

Ryker hadn’t come last night.

Not that he’d said he would, but he’d sort of made it sound like maybe…

I hauled myself out of bed, checking my phone for a call or text, to find a blank screen staring back at me. I listened faintly for the sound of my father before shoving my feet into my slippers and heading out the door of my bedroom.

“Dad!” I called, trotting down the steps before running headfirst into him in the kitchen.

“What’s the rush?” he grunted.

“Nothing.” I paused, suddenly wondering how I could explain my haste away. “How is everything? You seem…stressed.”

He arched an eyebrow then turned away from me. “No worry of yours.”

“So…everything is fine, then?”

He turned back to me, eyes piercing my own before he finally said, “Get to what you're askin’, baby girl. No sense in dancin’ around it when somethin's on your mind.”

I chastised myself for being so goddamn obvious. I was never good at hiding anything, especially from my dad.

“Where’s Ryker? And the guys?” I added the last part quickly to cover.

“King is workin’ in the shop, Saint’s sleepin’ off a hangover if I had to guess, and Ryker…” He paused, eyes casting aside. “Ryker’s gone.”

My breath hung on his last word, fingers quaking. “Gone?”

My father’s eyes lingered on mine for long moments before turning to the black sludge in his coffee cup. “Left last night.”

“For where?”

“South.” My father’s one-word answer drove me nearly fucking crazy.

“Oh.” I went to the coffeepot, trying to feign nonchalance. “How long will he be gone?”

“Can’t say.” He shuffled behind me as I thought of what else I could ask. “Be down at the clubhouse for the day if you need anything.” My father opened the door then paused. “And, Anna?”

I turned, freshly poured cup in hand.

“Why not look at applying for a few counseling jobs or something? Give you something to do instead of moping around the house all day.”

“I’m not moping!” I defended.

He arched that damn eyebrow again, the one that said every dissenting thing I didn’t want him to say, then turned and closed the door with a thunk. He had a way of chastising me without saying a word.

“Gone,” I muttered, dropping the mug on the counter, my stomach suddenly too twisted up for coffee. “Unbelievable.”