Thankfully I’m back in my car and take a sip of my espresso while shooting a loving glance at the other cup which contains a caramel latte. Yes, I ordered two different coffees, don’t judge, I need it.
After a few sips I sigh in contentment, feeling a little more human. Glancing in the rearview mirror I notice Queenie has fallen asleep and I now notice my own face. Leaning forward I touch my cheek and wince. Shit. I knew it hurt when I stumbled into the wall but I didn’t think I hurt myself this badly.
Damn. No wonder people were staring at me, they might have thought I’d needed the coffee to get over the fact someone kicked the shit out of me. Glancing down I cringe at the way I look with my sweats, rumpled shirt and oh my God, I’m not even wearing a bra.
Putting the coffee down, I cover my face with my hands, quickly pulling them away because my face is hurting, dammit. I can’t even cry or block the world out for a moment. I barely manage to swallow a sob.
It’s just a shitty day, I mentally scold myself. Breathe through it and put it behind you; clear your head and focus on the positive.
“My brain can go screw the positive because I’m feeling like shit and I look even worse,” I whisper growl.
A tiny scream rips from me when there’s a knock on my window. It’s Austin, Pokey and Orianna’s son who is now a biker of Areion Fury MC, just like his father. I’ve known Austin all my life since we grew up in the same MC. I slide down the window and turn my head toward him.
“You okay? Motherfucker, what the hell happened to you?” he growls and cups the good side of my face. “Did he do that to you? No, he wouldn’t because he knows we would fucking kill him.”
He reaches for his phone and I’m sure he’s either going to call my dad or his president. Great, let’s add two MCs going head to head to this already screwed-up day.
“Cool it, Austin. I did this myself, okay? I stumbled and walked into a wall.”
“That’s what most abused women say. Don’t try that shit with me, Beatrice. Take a look in the rearview mirror and check out your face and the little kid in the backseat. Don’t risk either one of your lives, and tell me the truth. Archer wouldn’t do this…but what I’m seeing I’m not believing either.”
“I just fucking did, Austin. I just noticed my face when I finally got my coffee because when I woke up alone for the gazillionth time, since Archer is working non-stop. And I’m un-freaking-useful since no one asks me for any help. Did I mention how Archer told everyone a freaking week ago they could ask me for help? Did anyone? Noooooo. And when I went into the bathroom this morning, I fucking stumbled over the threshold and faceplanted into the wall. Nice, right? But wait for it…I went downstairs to get coffee and there wasn’t any in the house. None. I quickly took care of Queenie and ran out with her to get me some coffee because I really fucking needed it to survive the day, Austin. Then to sit here in my car, and realize with the first sip of coffee, that my face is black and blue and I’m not even wearing a freaking bra. To say I’m a mess and to give me a damn minute to pull myself together is a tiny understatement of the year. But then again, I might be back to full function once I’ve had my coffee.” Rattling all of it out I now realize how petty it all sounds.
Another sob escapes me and I want to cover my face again but dammit, it hurts.
“I can’t even hide my freaking face in my hands to properly feel sorry for myself,” I whisper growl and let the tears slide over my face.
I watch through blurry vision how Austin thumbs his phone for a few more seconds before he shoves it back into his pocket.
He opens the door and orders, “Get out of the car, Bee.”
“I have to get home.”
“Yeah, right. As if I would let you when you’re like this.” He leans forward, into the car, and grabs the keys from the ignition. “Out,” he repeats.
Another sigh rips from my body and while I get out of the car I suddenly feel like a complete idiot.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Austin snaps. He lifts my chin with his finger and pins me with his gaze. “Everyone has shitty days and everyone has a breaking point. It doesn’t diminish the strength one possesses or the way they handle their shit. You need time to catch your breath and for sure as fuck you need your coffee. You and I are going to have a little chat because for the life of me I don’t know why you haven’t reached out to anyone. You have two MCs filled with people who care and are there for you. One call to a prospect would have either gotten you coffee right from the clubhouse or he would have gone out and get any special coffee you would want. You could have also gone to Lynn, Diamond, any one of those old ladies living close. Hell, you could have gone to your parents, or to my clubhouse, or called me for that matter. Get it?”
“My point, Austin,” I sigh in defeat. “I could have, but I’m having a shitty day.”
The sound of a biker nearing catches my attention.
“You called Archer?” I ask in disbelief. Shame overwhelms me. “Like I said, Austin, I was having a shitty day and I’m overreacting.”
“I didn’t call Archer,” Austin states as I watch Pokey park his bike right next to my car. “I called my dad. We’re going to let him take care of Queenie while you’re going to help me.”
“Help you? But–” I start to sputter but Austin holds up his hand to stop me.
“Hey, Dad. Can you take Queenie for the day or drop her off at Dams’ place? Bee offered to help me with something and we’re going to handle a few other things along with it.” Austin throws my keys in his direction and Pokey snatches them right out of the air.
Pokey’s gaze slides over my face and lands on Austin. Something passes between them and he suddenly says, “Sure thing.”
Austin reaches inside my car while I quickly kiss Queenie’s sleeping face. He wraps his fingers around my upper arm and guides me toward his car while handing me my coffee. Austin opens the door for me and it takes a moment for him to slide into the driver’s seat.
He hands me a black raincoat and a cap. “I’m heading to a crime scene and you’re going to tag along today. Your job is to observe, sip coffee, answer my questions, and give me your thoughts.”
Austin has his own company. He takes a wide variety of cases and you could say he’s somewhat of a private investigator. But you could also hire him if you think your business partner is lying or if you think your husband is cheating on you. And in some cases he’s asked to be a consultant in police matters. I know for a fact Archer has hired him a few times when he needed a keen eye.
I feel my lips tug with a tiny smile. “Your brilliant plan to turn my shitty day around is to watch you work while I give comments and sip coffee?”
He shrugs. “More or less.”
I take a sip of my delicious coffee and release a deep breath, liking the change he’s offering. “Sounds like a plan.”
Austin grins and starts the car. I’ve helped Austin out a few times in the past. Austin–like his father–has a photographic memory. He’s brilliant in his own way, though it’s a struggle for him in other ways. He gets bored easily and being this smart–since the man feeds his brain with any information he can come across–makes him stand out among others. Mainly because Austin isn’t afraid to speak his mind and it makes him a bit of a know-it-all.