Free Brute: The Valves MC by Carmen Faye Page B

look for anything out of the ordinary. I didn’t know how much time must’ve passed, but it couldn’t have been long since the sprinklers on my lawn hadn’t activated yet when Dawson’s front door opened and he stepped out, followed by the stranger.
     
    Dawson looked angry, but holding back. He pointed a finger at the other man’s chest and seemed to threaten him. The other one smiled and removed himself from Dawson, walking towards his motorcycle without a word. He didn’t seem afraid, but amused. And that made me feel uncomfortable. This whole thing didn’t look like casual conversation and I feared to acknowledge more.
     
    Before turning back to my business, I saw the stranger ride away, shortly followed by a dark sedan that had been parked on the other side of the street for a while. “I’ve seen that car before!” I exclaimed, trying to remember where and when.
     
    If I recalled correctly, this car had picked Dawson up for work a couple of times, usually arriving much earlier and waiting suspiciously in the same spot. It was suspicious now, in hindsight, as, at the time, I didn’t think much of it.
     
    Dawson followed the two vehicles with a stern expression on his face. I guessed he knew the kind of bad news they appeared to bring and I didn’t like the look in his eyes. He seemed concerned and constrained. The uneasiness crawled on my skin and I felt suddenly cold. Something wasn’t right and the only thing I could think of was if Ginger would be fine.

 
    CHAPTER THIRTEEN
     
    In the week following the incident, I had spent many hours turning all the possibilities around, trying to find new views on it. All details seemed to point towards a vile situation, but the specifics of that were unknown. And not knowing was the scariest part.
     
    On Thursday, Ginger stayed home, sick. I could barely go through with my work, the day seeming so long and never ending. My classes over, I left without doing any paperwork and drove as fast as I could. The little girl was sick and I needed to see if she was all right. Dawson might have been a good father but I didn’t trust his medical skills. Besides, lately I hadn’t trusted Dawson, period.
     
    On my way home, like everything conspired to slow me down, I had to get gas. I couldn’t wait anymore, so I called Dawson. “Hey, I’m just on my way home. Wanted to ask how Ginger’s feeling.”
     
    Fine, he told me. No need to worry, just a common cold. He seemed distant. Before I could suggest a visit, he assured me that the little girl would be just fine by the weekend. I felt anger rising inside me. Was I just interested in an easy babysitting job? Or was I more concerned with her well-being?
     
    I wanted to ask him what he took me for, but I held my tongue. I wouldn’t have known how to proceed anyway.
     
    I heard Ginger’s voice in the background, probably asking who it was that he mentioned her name to. He said she could say hi but didn’t hand her the phone. She seemed fine with just yelling “Hi, Mari!” towards the handset, then I didn’t hear her anymore. I felt on the brink of crying. The bastard was trying to keep her from possibly asking to see me.
     
    I hung up, unable to believe such preposterous possibilities, and drove home. I unlocked my front door, eying his house with a concerned look on my face. I couldn’t see Ginger, so I stepped inside and closed the door. For some reason, I felt exhausted. And terribly hurt with loneliness.
     
    I sat down, dropping my purse on the floor, starting to feel tears on my cheeks. What was going on seemed like the worst dream I could ever have with Dawson. I felt stupid for having imagined happy times and a future into this relationship. It seemed that, regardless of what he said or what I thought to have seen in his eyes, he didn’t want to be close. Ginger was the only thing bringing us together and he was taking her away when she needed me the most.
     
    What cruel man would do that? And what sort