"Texas. Is this the background check?" Ruby purses her lips and gives me a sly smile.
I shake my head and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. Her story is full of holes and half-truths, but I don't push. The boy has a backpack strapped to his shoulders, and Ruby's got a medium-sized suitcase by her feet. I'm willing to bet these two bags are all they have in the world, which turns my stomach in some fucked-up way. Fuck. Being a parent is hard enough with all the support I have from my mom and the club. I can't imagine doing it all alone with basically nothing in this world. Nobody should have to live like that, especially not some poor fucking kid. I try to shrug it off by reminding myself that she's going to be working in the clubhouse, so I'll have time to get the rest of the story out of her. I'll just have to stay close enough to make sure she and the kid have enough to survive on.
Finally regaining my ability to speak, I smirk at her. "No. You'll know it when I'm checking you out." She flushes and clears her throat but quickly regains her stoic appearance. I should let her stay in the clubhouse tonight, but the fucking Arizona club is in town and will be partying through the night, so I go ahead and do the dumbest thing I can. "Work tomorrow. You'll ride in with me. Tonight, you'll stay with us."
"I don't need--" she starts.
I cut her off immediately.
"We're not good enough to shelter you for a night, guess we're not good enough to hire you."
Ruby looks down at Ian, whose face peeks out a little more, displaying a large, angry-looking scar that covers almost half his face. I suck in a deep breath, trying to imagine what could have happened to the poor kid. Ruby gives her boy a smile and then another pat.
"Thank you," she says, her attention now back on me. Her eyes are gentle, her voice is firm, and everything about her demeanor tells me she's suddenly relieved. Her shoulders slump, but her chin stays high. The tension around her eyes dissipates.
She had nowhere to go.
Fuck.
Who is this woman, and what the hell am I going to do with her?
CHAPTER 4
Ruby
"That's my dad," Ryan says. He's still bouncing on the balls of his feet, his big gray eyes trained on me.
"I see the resemblance." Giving the kid a soft smile, I think through my options. Once those assholes from Arizona practically kicked us out of the van, I didn't know where we were going or how we were going to get there. We'd passed a cheap motel on our way through town, but there was no sign telling me how cheap cheap really is in California. Between the money I've been hoarding and the cash I've managed to collect from the Arizona club before we left, I have about five hundred bucks. Without a job, that's not even going to get us through the month. Sure, Ryan's dad kind of offered me a job. Well, it's more like Ryan offered the job and his dad kind of just . . . didn't argue it.
Ryan's dad.
That man is trouble, I can already tell. He's tall and muscular but not bulking in a gross, steroids kind of way. I hate when there's so many muscles that the poor guy no longer even has a neck. Ryan's dad--crap, I really need to find out the man's name--is just attractive. Like his son, he has gray eyes with jet-black hair and a pale complexion. He's everything I would have been attracted to before I stopped allowing myself to want anything.
"Ryan!" A loud, smoky, feminine voice shouts from the other side of the parking lot. I focus in on who it's coming from. A middle-aged woman is standing beside a shiny, new-looking truck. She's clutching a large leather purse to her shoulder. Her eyes are narrowed, her head tilting in a way that suggests she's sizing me up.
"That's my grandma," Ryan says with a half smile on his face. He doesn't move until she calls him again and adds, "Now," in a firm voice. Looking flustered, he jumps off the bench and drags himself away. I turn away as the chatty little boy and his grandma argue about something. They're too far away for me to hear the exact disagreement, but I can come up with something compelling enough. She probably doesn't want her grandson talking to some strange woman, and I don't blame her.
Before I embarrass myself by begging for that job and a place to stay, I take Ian by the hand and head out of the parking lot. If I want things to change, then I need to change the way I go about doing things.
We're halfway to the motel before he gives my hand a tug and stops moving his little feet.