The MC President's Forsaken Wife (Zara and Knox) novel Chapter 100

<Chapter 63.

Chapter 63-1

About two hours later, hear the horn.

Not loud or obnoxious, just a faint beep. A polite little chirp that somehow sounds embarrassed to be interrupting an outlaw motorcycle club. Nobody in the garage pays much attention until it comes again.

Beep.

Diesel looks up from the Harley he’s been wrestling with all morning. “The hell?”

Hey, Tucker!” Brick calls from the gate. “Customer for the garage.”

“She cleared?”

Brick gives him an unimpressed look. “No. I thought I’d skip all the extra security today for a bit of excitement.”

Tucker finally glances up. “Smart-ass.”

“You asked.”

“So?”

“She’s clean.”

“Send her in.”

I glance towards the open roller door just as the tiniest pale blue Volkswagen Beetle that I’ve ever seen putters through the gates at approximately walking speed.

It isn’t a fancy vintage restoration, or some immaculate collector’s car. It’s just very old, clearly loved. The pale blue paint is faded, tiny white daisies have been hand-painted around the mirrors, and little crystals swing from the rear-view mirror, catching the sunlight every time the car bounces over a crack in the

concrete.

The engine coughs dramatically. Keeps coughing. Then gives one final indignant splutter before dying completely.

Diesel slowly lowers his wrench. “Well.”

Tucker peers over the top of his glasses. “That’s new.”

The driver’s door swings open.

Out climbs a woman maybe ten years older than me, wearing chunky lace-up boots, a long green skirt that swishes around her ankles, a cream cardigan almost long enough to be a dressing gown and enough silver jewellery to supply a small market stall.

Dark curls tumble halfway down her back, and several tiny feathers are braided into one side of her hair. A canvas satchel covered in shiny embroidered moons hangs from one shoulder.

She closes the Beetle’s door gently, then she pats the roof.

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Chapter 63+

“Good girl,” she says warmly. “Thank you for getting me here safely.”

Diesel cocks his head. “Did she just…. thank the car?”

“I think she did,” I marmur.

“Huh.”

The woman looks over at the clubhouse, and her entire face lights up.

“Oh!” She actually claps her hands together. “It’s all so much bigger than I imagined.”

She walks into the garage with absolutely no hesitation, or caution, or even nerves, just cheerful curiosity. I’ve spent enough time around bikers to know that most people slow down the moment they realize where they are, but she doesn’t.

She strolls straight towards Tucker, smiling as though they’ve known each other for years.

“Oh!” she says again happily. “I love your glasses.”

Tucker blinks. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“They’re wonderful.”

“They’re bifocals.”

“They’re still wonderful.”

He stares at her for another beat before looking helplessly at me.

I shrug. Your guess is as good as mine.

Apparently satisfied with Tucker’s eyewear, she continues wandering through the garage like she’s visiting an art gallery. She stops beside Diesel.

“Oh my goodness.”

Diesel instinctively straightens.

i

She studies his beard with genuine admiration. “That’s magnificent.”

He automatically strokes it. “It’s just a beard.”

“It certainly isn’t.”

“It took commitment.”

“I can tell.”

He puffs up like a pigeon. “I condition it.”

“Obviously.”

“I’ve got beard oil.”

“Also obvious.”

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Chapter 63

Diesel looks ridiculously pleased with himself.

Chom

Tucker mutters without looking up from his clipboard, “Congratulations. You’ve finally met your fan club. It has one member.”

The woman beams. “I think beards deserve more appreciation.”

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Diesel announces.

“You were right.”

“I know I was.”

I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself laughing.

The woman drifts away again before Diesel can tell her the full history of his beard maintenance routine. She pauses beside one of the restored Harleys waiting for collection, and very gently, she pats the fuel

tank.

“Hello, beautiful,” she whispers.

Mayhem walks out of the back office at exactly this moment. He watches her pat the motorcycle, looks at me, looks back at her.

“Is she flirting with the bike?” he asks me.

She hears him. “No, no. I was introducing myself.”

Mayhem stares at her in utter consternation, while Diesel bends over laughing. Even Tucker’s shoulders begin shaking suspiciously.

The woman turns slowly in a circle, taking in the entire workshop.

“I have to say…” She presses one hand dramatically against her chest. “This isn’t at all what my tarot cards suggested.”

Everything stops.

Diesel blinks. “Your what?”

“My tarot cards.”

“Ah.” A thoughtful pause as Diesel tries to think of what the hell to say next. “Um, yes. Naturally.”

She nods earnestly. “They’re occasionally very dramatic.”

Mayhem pinches the bridge of his nose. I can almost hear him wondering whether somebody slipped something into his coffee this morning.

Tucker finally clears his throat. “Miss…”

She looks up brightly. “Mmmm?”

“Can we help you with something? A car repair?”

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Chapter 63.

Yes, thank you. I was hoping to speak with somebody.”

“Who?”

“James Callahan.

Clam

The humor immediately drains out of the room, because nobody – and most definitely not an outsider – wanders onto Grinning Skulls property, asking for the President by civilian name.

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