The Bikers Hunt (Warrior's Series {2})

Chapter Three

She pulled into her parking lot and parked under the lamp like she did every night. She expected Digger to go back to Peep Show now, but instead he parked his bike next to her car and got off. She wasn't in the mood to fight him so she just started walking toward her building. She was on the second floor, first apartment.

Fawn climbed the steps, pulling out her keys. The lock was a little tricky. She had to jiggle the doorknob as she inserted the key and twist it side to side a little. Then she turned the key, shoved the door, and wa-la, she was in.

She stepped inside and held the door open. Digger lifted his brow and stared at her as he walked in.

"Not gonna fight me?" He asked.

"I'm not in the mood to fight with you, Digger. I'm tired, so shut the fuck up." She said, throwing her purse on the counter. She pointed, "Couch."

Looking at her couch, she realized it didn't really fit in the apartment. Not because of the size, but because it actually looked new, all of her furniture did, but the white walls were turning yellow, some paint was even pealing. The counter had cracks and stains, the appliances looked like they were fifty years old. The floor was linoleum and was peeling near the walls as well. Some tiles were even missing where her couch, TV stand, and recliner were. She had a single bulb hanging in the kitchen and a lamp in the living room and the single bedroom.

She didn't wait for him to reply, just went into her room. Closing her door, she pulled her t-shirt off, her shoes and jeans following close behind. She pulled out her fuzzy pajama pants and a tank top. She took a minute to just relax in her room before she went out and faced Digger.

"Let's get this over with," she said, pulling a Green Apple Smirnoff from her fridge and popping the top.

"You need a better lock."

She nodded, she already knew what was wrong with her apartment. She told her landlord but he was a lazy fuck and refused to do anything about it.

"Whole fucking place needs a make over. What the fuck are you doing living here?"

"Better than the last place."

"What happened there?"

She shrugged, "Landlord was a creep."

"Creep how?"

"Like a creep."

She kept it vague. She didn't want Digger to know that her last landlord tried to get her in his bed. If he found out the guy had even groped her, he would go kill him.

He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here, Fawn? We both know you don't want be here. I know you miss the club and Trish and Sarah. Just come back with me and the boys."

"No," she shook her head. She couldn't go back. Maybe down the road, but right now she had to make it work here. She was not going back so he can just lead her along like before.

"I'm going to bed. Sleep on the couch if you want but be gone before I get up. I have work tomorrow." She grabbed her bottle and turned toward her room.

"I don't like you working there," he called after her.

"I know," she yelled back, taking a swig of her drink.

She closed the door, smirking at him. She placed her drink on the nightstand and set her alarm clock. As she crawled under the covers she thought to get him a blanket but shrugged it off. He was lucky she was letting him stay on her couch.

She finished her drink and pulled the covers up to her neck. She tried like hell to fall asleep. Believe it or not, it was hard to fall asleep with the guy she's been in love with for years was on her couch.

And she knew he was going to sleep on her couch because that was Digger. He may never have wanted her, but he always watched and protected her.

And made sure she never had sex.

All she could do was hope that he did actually leave before she was up. If he was still here, well let's just say she's not making him pancakes.