Free Rider (Defenders M.C. Book 3) by Amanda Anderson

just maybe a little courtesy.  Used to be able to get that in here.”
     
    Marty crossed her arms.  Could he really be that dense?
     
    “Times change.  Who are you looking for?”
     
    “Janie Cross.”
     
    “What do you want with Janie Cross?”
     
    “What’s it to you?”
     
    “Since she was my mama, quite a lot actually.”
     
    BOOM!  Marty wanted to laugh.  The man looked tota ~thewodiv heilly shocked.  She knew who he was.  She had his picture, and she also knew he had no idea that she existed.
     
    “Your mama?”
     
    She nodded and poured coffee for a customer who sat at the other end of the counter.
     
    “How old are you?”  He asked when she came back.
     
    “Nineteen.”
     
    He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. 
     
    “You know who I am?  That look on your face says you do.”
     
    “I know enough.  I was told that if I see those colors on a cut that I should turn and walk away.”
     
    “Your mama tell you that?”
     
    He was looking her over now.  She knew he was seeing the resemblance.  Her hair was dark like her mama’s, but her eyes were all his. 
     
    “My grandma.”
     
    “I’d like to see your mama.”  He grinned.  “I’d rather not see your grandma.”
     
    “Me too.  Mama died about eight years ago.  Nothing to worry about with grandma either.  She passed a few months ago.”
     
    She regretted that.  He looked like she had punched him.
     
    “Where do you live then?”
     
    “Now she lives with me Ace.”  Janice stepped up beside Marty and crossed her arms.  “What are you doing back here Ace?  After all these years, why are you back now?”
     
    “Guess I’m gettin’ old.”
     
    Janice nodded.  How’s Preach doin’?  He ever marry that woman he was crazy over?  Claim his boy?”
     
    “She was killed.  He raised the boy though.  Why didn’t anybody call me?  I could have done something here.”
     
    “You did enough.”  She nodded toward Marty.  “Would you have come back?”
     
    “I don’t know.  I could have sent money.  I’d have come for her when her mama died.  A kid needs family.”
     
    “That’s a fact.  So now that you know, what are you planning’?”
     
    He let his eyes fall on Marty.  “Whatever she wants.”
     
    “You’d take me with you?”  Marty crossed hertysp; “Whr arms and studied him.
     
    “If you want to go.  Get your shit.”  Ace had no idea what he was doing, but it felt right.
     
    Marty hugged Janice and raced out of the diner.  She ran to a little house across the street and disappeared inside.
     
    “Tell me about my kid before she gets back.”
     
    “She’s smart Ace, damned smart.  Watch her.”  Janice grinned.
     
     
     
     

 
    A little more about Amanda Anderson
     
     
     
     
     
    I live in North Georgia with my husband and two children.  I spend part of my time teaching at a local preschool and writing, while the rest is devoted to my family.  Writing is new to me, but storytelling has been a life long hobby.  I love using words to create images and feelings for others.  I can honestly tell a story about almost anything.  Some of my favorite storytelling memories are of telling bed time stories to my children and nieces and nephew.  They would pick random things, such as the ceiling fan, and I would make up a story about it.  Those moments are treasures to me and I hope they will be remembered by those special children too.  In that way I hope to bring special moments to my readers as well.
     
    Writing offers me an escape from the wonderful chaos that is my life.  Raising two small children takes a lot of energy and I often collapse in my office chair late at night and let my ideas flow.  I often write from an outline, but just as often I simply sit at the computer and type until I run out of ideas.  Then I go back to make sure it all makes sense and works.  Often I find myself captivated by the story as I read because in my mad rush to type it