Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(85)

Nolan looked over his shoulder. “The puppies are cool. I’m glad you found them.”

“Yeah. Me, too. You got a name for yours?”

“Thor.”

Badger considered the blonde pup barreling into Kodi at that moment. “Yeah. That’s good. Hav would’ve dug it.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

Loki climbed into Nolan’s lap, leaned back against his brother’s chest, and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Nolan kissed the top of his head. “Tired, pal?” Loki nodded, and Nolan shifted so that his baby brother could lie back more.

Stroking Hector’s soft fur—amazing how calming petting an animal could be—Badger asked, “How’s school starting?”

Nolan shrugged, then answered quietly, “Okay. Don’t care much. I’d just drop out, but my mom would hate that. I promised her I’d finish, so I will. But there’s not really a point, except she wants me to.”

“It’s good to finish. Even if you don’t do college—”

“—I’m not doing college, Badge. I’m prospecting. Soon as I turn eighteen. On my birthday.” He looked over his shoulder again. “Will you sponsor me?”

“I told you I’ll always have your back, Nolan. Yeah. I’ll sponsor you. If that’s what you want. Any of us would, you know.”

“I want it to be you.”

“Okay, then.” They were quiet for a while. Loki fell asleep. Bo had dumped a pile of LEGOs on the floor and was building some…thing. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s okay. Almost normal again. Or maybe she is normal, and this is how she is now. She doesn’t play her guitar anymore. Ever. I miss that. But she’s okay. I don’t think she’s gonna try to do what she did again, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I wasn’t. I was just wondering. How about you? Okay?”

“I will be. When I have a kutte. That’s when I’ll be okay.”

“Riding lessons going good?”

“Yeah. But Show says I can’t have Hav’s bike until I’m patched in.”

“No. That’s the way that works.”

“You think we could put the gas on this winter, try to get the Sportster up? The B&B is quiet in the winter, right? You’ll have more time?”

“Yeah. We could do that.”

“Cool. I need to ride.”

Badger knew a little something about needing the Horde, needing the club, and the bike, and the leather.

Needing the brotherhood. Needing it as much as blood and air. So he said only, “Yeah, I know.”

And he wondered whether there would be a Horde for Havoc’s kid to patch into.




CHAPTER NINETEEN



Adrienne woke early, feeling chilled and lonely. She rolled to the center of the bed and found Badger’s side empty, the sheets cool. He’d had a bad night, filled with terrors and the subsequent rough need that was the only thing to settle him.

He hadn’t had nightmares that drove him to shouting wakefulness for weeks—since the fire. Her own weakness and need of him seemed to have helped him through the rest of his fight. Though for the past few days he’d seemed a little preoccupied, in general, since she’d been hurt, he’d been calmer, steadier, a strong shoulder for her to lean on. Too strong, sometimes. He’d gotten bossy, too, overprotective and rigid about what she could and couldn’t do. She thought that her silence when she was in so much pain had disturbed him more than he’d admitted, and now he did not fully trust her to convey her needs. So he’d taken it on himself to anticipate them.

They were going to have to talk that through, because she was beginning to chafe at the limits he was trying to build around her.

But that talk was for another day. She knew why last night had been hard for him. Today was the first anniversary of Havoc’s death. And of Badger’s torture. And Show’s. And Len’s.

Badger hadn’t told her, but Lilli had gathered up all the women on the day of the puppies. They’d stood around the butcher-block island in the clubhouse kitchen and talked about what to expect from the men, and how to help them. They’d asked Cory what she and Nolan needed—on the first anniversary of losing Havoc. Adrienne had felt awkward, standing with these women who’d been through so much. She had not experienced that day with them. But Shannon had caught her hand when she’d tried to back out and had given it a squeeze, murmuring. “You stay. You belong here. You’re Badge’s old lady.”

Their little bungalow was silent but for occasional creaks and moans of the building itself—the morning was windy and brisk. Adrienne got out of bed and grabbed the long cardigan she used as a robe on cool mornings and evenings.

As she walked down the short hall, past the bathroom, she pulled her hair out of the collar and let it fluff down her back and over her shoulders. She was lucky, she thought, that she’d clipped her hair up that last evening in the B&B. She had lost none of it. She’d been left the vanity of her hair.

Hector bumbled into the hallway from the kitchen. She reached down and picked him up, then went in.

She set him back down when she saw the scene before her.

Badger was sitting with his head and hands on the table, a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels a few inches from one slack hand. He didn’t really drink hard liquor, at least not anymore. With few exceptions, he stuck to beer. Especially in the six months that she’d been in Signal Bend, since his detox. She didn’t even know they’d had whiskey in the house. In fact, she was pretty sure they hadn’t. So he’d gone out in the middle of the night? And come back here to drink alone in the kitchen? A bottle of Jack?