couldn’t part with it. It seemed wrong.
A smile touched my face as I quickly scanned the notes, and put the phone back. I glanced up in time to see a large figure darken the doorway of the dining room in front of me.
“Oh, there you are…” Mateo, my burly cousin said in a deep-timbered voice. “What are you doing out here?” He gave me a suspicious look that was almost comical. He was the nicest member of the motley crew that I called my family. Him and I were close, but not too close. I wasn’t really close with anyone in the house. They weren’t trustworthy. Their loyalties lay with my father, as mine should but didn’t.
I rolled my eyes as I dismissed him. Nosey ass.
“I’m hanging up my coat,” I replied innocently, giving my cousin a defensive glare as I tugged my coat from my shoulders. “What’s it look like I’m doing? Baking cookies for your fat ass?”
Mateo brought his mitt of a hand to his chin as he regarded me with a look of deep reflection on his face. “Hmmm… Fuck I’d love some cookies.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed against him. “Seriously… Don’t hurt yourself, Mateo. You never have been the thinker of the family.”
“We can’t all be geniuses, Selene!” Mateo replied, sounding offended. He quickly shrugged it off though and pushed at my shoulder.
“It’s true. It’s tough being queen,” I said and gave him an over-exaggerated wink.
“Please. You wish. You’re still the princess around here, girly. And it looks to me like you’re standing in the dark…” Mateo said darkly as he glowered at me. Suddenly, a mischievous look crossed his face. “Ready to pounce on me!” Mateo quipped as he grabbed my neck and proceeded to tickle me.
“Mateo! Stop! I am not a little kid anymore. I’ll be twenty-one soon. Shit!” I protested.
“You’ll always be our little Lena,” Mateo said with a laugh as he messed up my hair with his gigantic mitt of a hand.
I smoothed my hair back down as I escaped my cousin’s reach, and pushed past him roughly. His big dough-like frame filled up the doorway, but with the right pressure, any man would move for a lady.
“Oh, by the way,” Mateo called. “My friend asked if you could take a look at his truck. It’s been acting funny.”
Turning on my heel, I screwed up my face as I looked at Mateo. “Why me? Why can’t you do it? Or one of your brothers?”
Mateo shook his finger at me playfully. “I work on bikes, Lena. You’re the one who knows all about those custom parts. Besides, your dad has me busy…” he explained with a suggestive wink.
I raised an eyebrow, “Yeah. I know what that means…”
I turned and walked through the elegant double doors of the dining room as my thoughts moved from simple things back to complexity. The Black Heart motorcycle club was much more than a simple headquarters for a notorious motorcycle gang. The clubhouse was elegant and refined. My Grandma had designed the interior when my mother was still alive as a Christmas present to the family one year.
Beautiful Italian leather sofas lined the foyer walls with French double doors in the dining room and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling in each room. Where the Stone Wolves fit the cloth of the stereotypical biker image – the Black Hearts were more like Mafia on motorcycles. They were hell on wheels with knife-edged cunning and tempers that could light a dead fuse.
“There’s my Selene!” My father called with his arms spread wide.
He was dressed in a fine suit with a beautiful burgundy silk shirt and a black damask tie. Being well-groomed, he had a clean goatee, and his salt and pepper hair was neatly coifed.
“Hey, Dad,” I said in the most charming way I could muster. I had to work hard to remove any hint of animosity from my voice, but it wasn’t an easy task.
“Selene, we have company for dinner tonight. Say hello, please.” My father nodded toward Dante, who sat at his left. Dante had been a fixture