The Biker Needs A Nanny (Thirteen Bikers for Christmas)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Lucky—

My alarm was set early, so I’d be up to get that delivery. Grabbing my phone, I shut it off and sit up, yawning. I peer in the bedroom and see a shape under the covers. She’s still asleep, so I quietly close the door and brew a pot of coffee, then walk out on the dock with a big smile. It’s a beautiful day.

I pull out my phone and hit up Pipe.

“Hey, man. What’s up?” he asks with a sleepy voice.

“You still want to buy my old shovelhead?”

That perks him right up.

“You serious? Hell, yeah. You know I do. But what made you finally decide to let go of it? You love that bike.”

“Found something I love more.”

“How much you want for it?”

“Eighty-two hundred.”

“You’ve lost your mind, VP. I’ll give you seventy-eight hundred. Final offer.”

“Sold.”

“Are you yankin’ my chain? You really gonna let that bike go?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, I’ll be over in a few hours. Gotta grab a shower.”

“Fine. I’ll be here.” I disconnect and go back inside, whistling.

I refill my mug and glance at the clock, knowing I really need to ensure Grace is okay. Moving to the bedroom door, I tap on it. “You up, babe?”

With my ear to the door, I don’t hear anything.

I tap once more. “How are you feeling? Grace?”

When I get no response, I open the door and move to the bed, reaching out to shake her shoulder. My hand sinks, and I pull back the covers to find only pillows.

“Goddamn it.” My stomach plummets, and then I spot the note and her cell phone on the nightstand.

Lucky,

I’m so sorry for bringing trouble to your door. I should have told you about Eric weeks ago. I put your girls in danger, and that is unforgivable. I wish things could have worked out. You made me feel like I had a home, and more importantly, you made me feel loved.

Merry Christmas, sweetheart.

I love you with all my heart,

Grace.

P.S. Please hug the girls goodbye for me. I’ll miss you all every day.

There’s a small black box tied with a gold ribbon and a tag that says, to Lucky from Grace.

I pull the ribbon off and open it.

Nestled in a satin lining is a bracelet. I read the inscription on the three silver bands around the three braided leather cord.

Ella.

Poppy.

Grace.

The three most important people in my life. And now one of them is gone.

I’m losing another woman I love.

Everything drains out of me, and I drop to the bed. All I can do is stare at the floor and breathe in and out.

Ella and Poppy bop into the room.

“Santa comes tonight!” Poppy says with a giggle.

Ella slows and stares at me, then looks to the bathroom.

“Daddy, where’s Grace? She wasn’t in her room, and all her things are gone.”

“She had to leave, honey,” I say softly.

Her lower lip trembles. “She can’t leave. It’s Christmas.”

“I know, baby.”

“You have to go after her. You have to bring her back. Santa comes tonight.”

“I don’t know where she went.” The memory of her sitting at the table, looking at apartments in Florida flashes before my eyes.

“She promised she wouldn’t leave us,” Poppy says.

I don’t know how to answer her.

“You have to find her, Daddy,” Ella insists, and something inside me breaks.

“Ella, she’s gone. She left us. I can’t make her stay if she wants to leave,” I snap and throw a pillow across the room. I’m angry at Grace, not Ella, but she doesn’t understand that and runs from the room in tears.

I drag a hand through my hair, and come to my feet. “Baby, I’m sorry.”

Before I reach the stairs to follow Ella, there’s a knock on the front door, and I rush to it, hoping it’s Grace, but when I yank it open, I only find the guy from the pawn shop here to deliver the ring.

He holds up the bag and a clipboard. “Mr. Hartwell?”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“You have to sign for it.”

I scrawl my name and shove it back at him, and he passes me the bag. “Thanks.”

Before I can close the door, Brick roars up the driveway, and I step outside. “What are you doing here?”

He shuts his bike off and climbs to his feet. “I heard from Pipe that you’re selling him your shovelhead. I came to see if you fell on your head.”

“I’m fine. It’s not your concern.”

He cocks his head. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

I look at the package in my hand.

“What’s that?” Brick asks.

“Her grandmother’s ring.”

Brother looks toward the house. “You mean Grace?”

“Yeah. She’d pawned it to escape that asshole.”

Brick’s chin lifts. “So, that’s why you’re sellin’ your bike.”

“Yeah.”

“How much did you have to pay to get that ring?”

“Six grand.”

Brick whistles. “Goddamn, VP.”

I nod. “Crazy, huh? I was going to surprise her for Christmas.”

“What do you mean were ? Now you’re not?”

“She’s gone, Brick.”

“What do you mean? Gone where?”

I shrug. “She left a note. Said she didn’t want to put the girls in danger.”

“You didn’t tell her we got the asshole?”

“She was asleep. I was going to tell her this morning.”

Brick puts his hands on his hips and looks toward the road. “Well, she ain’t got a vehicle, so let’s go find her.”

I look at him. “You think we can?”

“Worth a shot, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but…” I look toward the house. “I can’t leave the kids.”

Brick pulls his phone out and calls his ol’ lady. “Hey, honey. Can you come to Lucky’s place? We need to run out somewhere, and he doesn’t have anyone to watch his girls.” He cocks his head, listening. “What was that?”

“What?” I whisper, stepping closer.

Brick holds his finger up and keeps listening. “Where?” he snaps, staring at me. “Where are you now, Angie?”

“What? Tell me,” I demand, but he ignores me again.

“Turn around. See if it’s still there.” He waits, pacing. “Okay, get here fast, babe.”

“What?”

“Angie was downtown doing some last-minute shopping. She just saw Grace getting on a bus. Angie said the front marque said the destination is Jacksonville.”

“When was this?”

“Twenty minutes ago.”

“I gotta go. That bus is probably on I-10 by now,” I say. “Can you wait for Angie?”

“Yeah. Let me call the club.” Brick makes a call, but I don’t wait.

I’m already running to my bike. Five seconds later, I roar onto the street, giving it full throttle.

By the time I take the back county roads all the way to where I can pick up I-10, at least fifteen minutes have passed. I roll down the entrance ramp onto it, heading east into the sun.

About two minutes later, I hear the club closing in behind me, their Harleys roaring.

Case pulls up on my side and nods.

I’m glad for my club’s support.

It takes us about ten minutes before we catch up to a Trailways bus.

I pull to the front and read the destination on the marque. Jacksonville. This has to be it. I nod to Case, who signals the group, and we surround the side and front of the bus.

I motion the driver over.

He glances in his mirror, considering his options, but makes the wise decision to comply. Once the bus stops, I approach the driver window, and the man leans his head out. “I’ve already called 911. I’m not opening the door for you.”

“We mean you no harm. My girl is on your bus. I want to tell her I love her.”

The man stares at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “You stopped my bus for that?”

“Come on, man. It’s Christmas. Give this lovesick fool a break,” Case says, coming up on my right.

The driver sighs. “What’s her name?”

“Grace.”

He picks up the microphone. “We got a Grace on this bus?”

He leans out the window. “What’s your name, buddy?”

“Lucky.”

He gets back on the microphone. “Lucky wants to talk to you.”