Ride Steady (Chaos #3)(49)

I would definitely take care of their place.

Though, I’d likely have to start selling plasma (and then some) to afford it.

“Well—” I began.

Tyra cut me off again, “Six hundred dollars a month.”

My eyes got big.

Six hundred a month?

That was only a few hundred more than what I was currently paying for the not-so-great place I was raising my son.

A deal!

She took in my big eyes and added swiftly, “Plus free cable.” When I didn’t speak because my excitement made me mute, she threw in, “And electricity paid.”

“I, uh… a house for six hundred dollars?” I finally got out.

“It’s nice. Really nice. In a good neighborhood. And you said you weren’t real big on where you’re staying,” Tyra said by way of answer.

At this point, Tack was holding out his phone. “Scroll, girl. Those are pictures. We can take you ’round whenever. Place’ll be open at the end of the month, which means a week.”

I took his phone and I scrolled through the photos. They weren’t big on the phone but I could still see the place wasn’t nice.

It was very nice. Clean and attractive with personality.

Not something that cost six hundred dollars a month.

And here it was again.

This wasn’t a deal, it was a steal.

And I’d be the thief.

Darn.

I gave Tack back his phone, saying, “That’s really sweet but I couldn’t.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because you can get more out of it if you rent to someone else,” I explained what he well knew.

“Yeah, and we can get more headaches with dogs and lease jumpers and shit like that,” he returned.

“Not to mention, the expense of placing an ad in the paper,” Tyra put in.

I didn’t know how much ads cost but I did know that whatever they cost didn’t cover what they weren’t making if they rented their place to someone who could afford it.

“And we don’t go through a management company,” Tack added. “So we gotta go through applications, pay for credit checks, drop shit to do showings. It’s a pain in the ass. You take it, we don’t have to do any a’ that shit.”

Okay, well, I could imagine that none of that was fun, not to mention it had to be time consuming and pricey.

“When’s your lease up?” Tack pushed.

“It’s month to month. Where I am, they know not to try for anything over six months. Tenants are pretty transient,” I told him. “Once I did my first six months, they went month to month.”

“Notice?” he asked.

“I’d have to check but I think it’s a week.”

“Give it. We’ll get you in. Boys’ll help. First up, Tyra’ll show you around so you know it’s where you wanna be.”

I already knew it was where I wanted to be. Me, Travis, a clean, nice little house that was not in my current neighborhood. It was where I wanted to be.

But taking advantage of them wasn’t who I wanted to be.

I opened my mouth to reply, not knowing how to turn them down, but I didn’t get a word out.

The front door opened again, all eyes went to it, including mine, and I shut my mouth as this time my heart skipped before it squeezed when Joker strode in.

Unfortunately, my ride with Snapper had worn off by Sunday morning. I knew this when I woke up with a strange ache that had Joker and his brunette written all over it. Luckily, I had work to take my mind off of it and Travis back so the ache went away when my little boy again filled my life.

But even with work (and Travis) I thought of pretty much nothing but Joker, and I’d come to the realization that it wasn’t Joker’s fault. He didn’t lead me on. He didn’t give any indications (outside of returning that kiss) that he was interested at all.

So it was all me.

Still, it had hurt.

And seeing him right then, the ache came back.

I felt it settle in as Joker did much the same as Tack when he entered, except he came around the outside of the bar, and after giving lifts and tips of his chin to the others in the room, his eyes came to me.

“Butterfly,” he muttered.

Another heart squeeze.

Nicknames, obviously, were a biker thing. Joker’s parents hadn’t named him Joker, for sure. And Shy wasn’t Shy, Tabby had told me Saturday night his real name was Parker. Same with High, Snapper, and the rest (though I didn’t know their real names, I just knew what Tab referred to as their Club names).

That said, Ride and Cut were Tyra and Tack’s kids’ names, but shortened from Rider and Cutter.

So a nickname was the thing with biker clubs.

Still, I wished butterfly had a different meaning.

As I was wishing this, Joker sauntered right past me.

And he did this to go straight to Big Petey.

And he did this so he could firmly pull Travis from Pete’s arms, lift him up so they were face to face, and ask, “How goes it, kid?”

Taking that in, I suddenly had trouble breathing.

Travis screamed with glee and latched on with both hands to Joker’s beard.

Joker pulled him forward like he was going to give him a kiss, but he didn’t. He just touched his forehead to Travis’s before he dropped him down, making Travis lose purchase on his whiskers. He then tucked Travis’s little tush in his hand, settling his back in the curve of his arm, and turned to me.