Ginny knew the women had grown close to Beth. While Trudy was jealous of Willa, truthfully, Ginny felt the same toward Beth. She had the relationship Ginny wanted and was able to share those momentous occasions that Ginny had missed—weddings, births, graduation ceremonies—and would never get a chance at. The time she was able to spend with them was always too brief and spent joking around, like when they would meet at one of the dirt roads on the way to Jamestown to pass things off to each other like the cupcakes or when Hammer organized a night for them to spend together within the safety of Jonas and his presence.
Ginny took another drink of her tequila, letting the burn dry the tears she wanted to shed each time she missed a memory with her sister, like a precious stone that was given to someone else.
“How’s Lucky enjoying being pastor at the church again?” This time it was Trudy who initiated the change in conversation.
“From how happy Willa looks when she comes in to work in the morning, it’s working out for them.”
“How’s her shoulder?”
“She says it’s fine. I’m still careful making sure she doesn’t lift anything too heavy.”
The group burst into laughter when Fat Louise almost toppled off the bed after Trudy tried to do a sneak attack to get her bottle away from Killyama.
“Give her the bottle. I’ll lend her the money.”
“I’ll pay you back, Ginny. I promise.” Her sister winked at her. Money went through her sister’s hands like water. If someone needed money more than she did, Trudy had an open heart and wallet.
“Yeah … when Hell freezes over.” Killyama started to hand the bottle to Trudy, then stopped, pulling it back to tuck it under her armpit. “I’ll give it to her for free if you do a little reconnaissance mission for me.”
Ginny raised her eyebrows at Killyama. “What do you want me to find out.”
“Ask one of those Last Rider bitches how low Shade’s tats go.”
Tracing the lip of her bottle, she gave her a steady stare. “I’ll find out for you, if you take on a mission for me.”
Killyama’s interest piqued, she leaned forward eagerly. “What you want me to find out?”
“How Willa’s shoulder was really hurt.”
“Little B, you’ve got a fucking deal.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Do you ever get jealous of Beth and Lily?” Laying her head on Trudy’s shoulder, Ginny stared up at the ceiling.
“Sometimes.” Trudy kept her voice just as low as the other women were sprawled out on the two beds.
“Willa offered to co-sign for me to buy her house. We’re almost there, Trudy. We’ll have a home to call our own.”
“Bliss might have something to say about that.”
“She’s had it rough. I like her a lot.”
“Baby sister, you like everyone a lot.”
“We’re almost there.”
“Evangeline ….”
“I told you not to call me that anymore.”
“Ginny, a home isn’t everything.”
“It’s everything to me. You belong when you own a home. If you want to move, it’s because you want to move, or you can’t afford it. You have the power to stay or go. It doesn’t matter what someone else wants you to do.”
“You belong.”
“No, I don’t. But I will,” she vowed.
“You really like working for The Last Riders? You sure it’s not too much?”
“It’s not. They share the work. Even the guys do as much as the women. The only trouble I had is when I accidently moved Reaper’s jacket.”
“Reaper?”
“Viper’s brother. I didn’t know he lost his brother.”
“He was the one who disappeared in Treepoint when you first went to live with the Wests.”
“That was Viper’s brother?”
“Yes.”
Ginny continued to stare up at the ceiling. “It has to be hard on the others in the club, as well. They all seem close to me.”
“Closer than you think.”
Ginny turned to stare at her sister. “What does that mean?”
“It means, stay downstairs like Willa told you to.” Trudy rolled to her side, displacing her head to raise onto her elbow so she could look down at Ginny. “Don’t get interested in the men in the club.”
“I won’t.”
“I mean it, Evangeline. They don’t have relationships like most people do.”
“I told you I won’t. Don’t worry.”
“It would be hard not to; you’re around them a lot. They have a lot of hot going on there.”
Ginny shoved a pillow under her head. “You think some of The Last Riders are hot?”
“I’d give out to a couple of them … or four.”
“Which ones?”
“Rider. Come on, tell me there has to be one that gets a one or two looks from you. All those tats and hard bodies … Tell me which one?”
Ginny considered the men she’d come into contact with, including those who weren’t The Last Riders and drew a blank.
“Do you believe in soul mates?” she asked her sister, hearing Fat Louise snoring on the other bed.
“Soul mates? You mean someone who’s meant just for you?”