Six years I've been Cord's old lady, and six years my name has been on a shop lease he signed.
He put a Savannnah cosmetician in a club kutte Christmas Eve and let her sit behind him at the table. I handed him a wrench and told him to fix his own rotor and rode home to Tybee.
Two weeks later I refinanced the shop out of his name. Ten months later the Sons lost their rally, Anse left for Charlotte with half the club's gear, and Cord moved into the back room of my building.
I let him stay. I wrote him a lease. Market rate.
I kept riding. Not with him. With the Sons.
By spring they made me Sergeant at Arms.
He asked me to try again.
I told him I didn't know yet. And that he could keep paying rent either way.
