Falling For The Biker - Chapter 55: Chapter 55

Sierra’s POV
I looked over at my side, at Arthur behind the steering wheel. His jaw was clenched, grip firm on the wheels with his veins popping. All he had said to me since he returned was we needed to leave.
Not another word and worse, it seemed he was avoiding my gaze. I placed a hand on his arm and he slammed the brakes. “I’m sorry,” I apologized, eyes wide.
“It’s okay,” he said and began moving once again.
“Are you okay?” I asked, watching his face.
He stayed quiet for a second, then turned to me with a forced smile, nodding. “Yes,” he simply said, then returned his eyes back to the road.
I gave up, sinking into my seat, looking out the window. The look on Maria’s face replayed in my head. My little victory seemed to have been shaken by whatever Maria did, and I had no idea what.
It took me a moment to realize we were no longer moving. I darted my eyes around and noticed we were back at the house. I gave one last look at Arthur and went for the handle, but paused.
“Were you serious back there…about wanting to be with me?” I asked.
“I was, and I still am,” he responded.
I hummed and found my way out the door, slamming the door behind me as I walked into the house. I didn’t have my keys with me, fortunately; we had a spare in the flowerpot.
Jackson stepped out of the kitchen with a jug in hand and paused when he spotted me. His eyes ran through my frame before shaking his head. “Went out again, I see,” he said.
“I did,” I replied. And I have no idea if I regret it or not.
“Whatever,” Jackson said, walking away with a wave of his hand.
I always seem to run into him when things go south with Arthur. Was that the universe’s way of saying ‘I told you so’? I drew a sigh and headed back to my room, tossing my coat on the bed before plopping on it.
Why did Maria have to show up? A good time was all I wanted, and she ruined it, but I wondered what could have possibly occurred between them to make her act that way and ruin Arthur’s mood.
My phone rang with an unknown number on the bedside table. I stared at the screen for a moment before finally deciding to take the call. The person on the other end seemed to be upset as her words came through the speakers of my phone. “You are in so much trouble! Get over her first thing in tomorrow”
“Hey, another glass over here,” a man tapped his mug.
The restaurant was filled with patrons at every corner, with so many conversations slipping into my eardrums the moment I walked into the place. “Sierra!” Eve’s voice made me turn to the side.
She had her arms spread with a wide smile on her face. I hugged her, pulling away soon after. “Come,” she said, taking my hand and leading me deeper into the restaurant.
“Hey! Careful with that,” a lady said, but then it was followed by a loud crashing and glass breaking sound.
“For fuck’s sake, can’t you see?” the man grabbed a bottle, hitting it on the side of the table.
Just before he could advance at the unfortunate waiter, someone stopped him. “Drop that right now, Charles!” the woman ordered.
“But…” the man tried to argue.
“No fighting in my restaurant,” the woman said firmly.
“Fine, Miss Holden,” the man said, letting go of the broken bottle in his hand.
“Mum,” Eve yelled.
Miss Holden turned to us. “Hi, Miss Holden,” I smiled.
“Sierra, is that you?” she said, walking over to me. “It’s been so long,” she hugged me, her spices mixed with an alcoholic scent filled my nostrils.
“I’m sorry for not coming over earlier,” I apologized.
“Oh, it’s fine. Eve just came in anyway. I have the best room for you both to catch up,” she said.
She soon led us to the balcony. It was much quiet than downstairs with loads of talking and chit chats. Eve told a waiter to get us something while we took a seat. My eyes took in her usual attire; heavy black makeup, black leather pants and shirts with chains around her waist.
She was still the same as I remembered. I guess she was serious about keeping up her gothic lifestyle. “You are a terrible friend,” she began. “You returned to the village, and you didn’t give me a call.”
“I’m sorry. I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me. You know, after I ghosted you for years,” I said, biting my lips.
Evelyn has always been my best friend. She was the complete contrast of what I was — outspoken, bold and ready to bring up a fight when need be. I made the decision to leave with Vance and soon cut almost everyone off, including her.
I felt horrible and still do, but I could not bring myself to meet her after all I did. “You’re my best friend and you think I’ll blame you?” she waved her hands. “I know it’s that jerk, Vance. You wouldn’t just do that.”
“As much as I want to blame him, I am at fault as well, and I’m sorry.”
“Cut yourself some slack. Now, tell me what you have been up to,” she said.
I sighed. “For one, I’ve divorced Vance,”
“Really?” she slammed the table, standing. “That’s a good thing. We need a drink,” she tried to signal a waiter.
“It’s too early for a drink,” I said, stopping her.
“Fine,” she said, taking her seat. “Tell me more,”
I told as much as I could sober, then sighed. “For the next part, I think I need a drink,” I said, and a smile spread across her face.
“I thought you wouldn’t ask,” she said, yelling at a waiter to do that.
Just one glass, I told myself as the waiter brought our drinks. I emptied the glass almost instantly and narrated everything to her. Eve listened attentively, filling her glass every now and then. “I really don’t know what to do, Eve,” I sighed, throwing my head back.
“You know what I always say,” she said.
I sat up. “Fuck men,”
“Exactly,” she snapped her fingers.
She emptied another glass, then continued. “My advice is…” she paused, her brows creased. “Does this man of yours have something to do with Arthur, the biker?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, unsure. “Why?”
She turned her head to the side; her gaze stuck on something behind me. “He is matching over here like he wants to murder someone,”