Desolation

Sofie is in a little two-door blue convertible – the idea of the car sounds great, but it’s quite old and run down. It suits her though, and I liven at the idea of riding in a convertible. She smiles and waves at me, and I can’t help but return that. I rush down to her car.

“Jump in,” she says.

I open the door and get in. I glance at her and see she’s wearing a very similar outfit to me, which makes me feel better. Her dress is blue, but a very similar style. It appears she has a bikini underneath it. She’s wearing a black floppy hat that nearly matches my white one.

“You look awesome,” she says. “You’re so pretty. I’m jealous.”

My cheeks burn. I don’t know why she thinks I’m so pretty. She obviously hasn’t seen herself.

“You look lovely, too,” I say softly.

“Are you ready?”

I nod.

She chats to me easily the entire way to the beach. When we arrive, I get out of the car and stare at the gorgeous ocean crashing over the yellow sand. My heart flutters and I rush forward, not thinking. I hit the sand and close my eyes, curling my toes over and over, shifting it about beneath my feet. A warm, salty breeze tickles my face. That combined with he feeling of the sand beneath my toes is enough to soothe my nerves.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

I turn to Sofie who has stopped beside me. I nod, smiling.

“Come on, there’s a good spot.”

She points to a partly shady spot near a slight overhang in the rock wall. We head over and pull out our towels, laying them down. Sofie removes her dress, revealing that I was correct—she’s wearing a bikini. She has beautiful curves, unlike myself. I’m nervous. I’m not sure I want to take off my dress. Sofie doesn’t comment when I simply sit on my towel and push my toes into the sand.

“So, Pippa, tell me about yourself.”

I swallow and keep my eyes on the ocean.

“There isn’t much to tell. My parents passed when I was younger, and I was raised in the foster system.”

She gasps. “I’m sorry; that must have been awful.”

“Yes. It wasn’t the best, but I’m here and grateful.”

I won’t tell her about my living hell with Artreau.

“Do you have family outside of your parents?”

I nod. “A sister—Santana.”

“She has a pretty name, just like you.”

I smile. “She’s as pretty as her name, too.”

“As are you, Pippa.”

I flush.

“Does she live here?”

“Yes. She’s married and has a daughter.”

Sofie smiles. “Lovely. What does she do?”

“She’s, an, ah . . .” I hesitate. “Old lady.”

Sofie blinks. “Pardon?”

“She’s married to the President of the Joker’s Wrath MC.”

I hope I’m allowed to give that information freely. I suddenly become nervous again.

Sofie’s eyes get big. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“You know the Joker’s Wrath boys?”

I smile fondly. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh my God! You lucky thing. I’ve seen those guys around town and they’re freaking hot!”

My cheeks grow pink. “Yes, they’re handsome.”

“Handsome?” she shrieks. “They’re heaven.”

That too.

“God,” she says when I don’t answer. “I can’t believe you know them. Will you introduce me to them?”

I blink. “To the club?”

“Yes,” she pleads. “Please?”

“I’m not sure what the rules are . . .”

“You could ask your sister?”

I smile, but I really wish she wouldn’t push about the guys. I decide to change the subject.

“I’ll think about it, but I’d like to enjoy the day first.”

“Of course.” She smiles.

“What about you?” I ask, laying down and propping myself up on my elbows.

“I’m a typical case of rich parents who I rebelled against, so they disowned me and now I’m a cleaner for a living.”

“I’m sorry,” I say gently.

She waves a hand. “I’m not. They drove me crazy. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Do you have siblings?”

“A brother,” she says. “But he’s uppity, just like them.”

“It must suck, not having any family?”

She shrugs. “Not really. I have friends.”

I smile.

“It sounds like you have everything worked out.”

She beams. “I do. Now, let’s see if we can’t tan this skin.”

She slaps her arms, as if her beautiful creamy skin is a curse.

Then we both close our eyes and enjoy the sun. It really is wonderful.

CHAPTER FOUR

NOW – Pippa

“Afternoon, ladies.”

Sofie and I are sitting at the cafe by the water when a group of three men approach our table. I take them in as Sofie flashes a stunning smile. The first man has dark hair, dark eyes and olive skin. He’s handsome in the rugged, dangerous kind of way. The second is blond-haired with blue eyes and has a surfer look about him, and the third has flaming red hair and green eyes. They’re all handsome.

“Hello there,” Sofie says.