Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

I stared at the boxes I’d packed. There were four of them, though four more leaned against the wall, unconstructed. Roadrunner had brought them by that morning for me. Why he thought we would need eight moving boxes when we weren’t even bringing everything was beyond me. I’m not sure everything we owned would fill eight moving boxes.
    Some things, including all the furniture, were staying in the apartment. The club, Roadrunner told me, would foot the bill for the rent for the time being. I had not been keen to accept, and I told him so, but it hadn’t gone over well. I was near to shouting at him for being so domineering while he accused me of being too stubborn to get by. I eventually gave in when he pointed out not only would we not be in residence because of the club’s problems, but also, because I would be leaving town, I had to quit my job. There was no way I would be able to pay the rent and he placed the blame for that on the Disciples.
    So, after spending the evening pouring my guts out to Roadrunner, then us arguing over the details of my move, I’d given in. Emmy and I were leaving with him, going back to a home I barely knew and facing down the very real, very alive past I had been running from for years.
    Roadrunner had a morning meet with the Mayhem Bringers, part of what brought him to Portland. The night before, he told me he would come by with the boxes early and I needed to sort everything out so we could leave when he came back in the early afternoon.
    I’d done as he said and started the morning explaining to Emmy that we were going away for a while. That had been the hardest part.
    “Where we goin’, Momma?”
    How could I explain it all to her? I couldn’t very well tell her her grandpa was a biker who died for the club and left me alone, I took off because I couldn’t deal, and now that club was involved in some mess, making the two of us unsafe. First, she wouldn’t have understood bikers or the club. Second, I was not about to tell my three-nearly-four-year-old we were in danger.
    Instead, I went with, “There are people where we’re going who care about us. You haven’t met them, but they knew your grandpa. We’re going to stay with them for a while.”
    Luckily, she’d accepted that as good enough. “Okay.”
    “I need you to help Mommy pack,” I’d told her.
    “What’s pack?”
    “We need to get your toys ready to bring with us. Can you help with that?”
    “Yeah!”
    My girl, always Mommy’s little helper.
    “I’m going to bring this box into your room. I need you to take the toys from your toy box and put them in the box. Okay?”
    “Stuffies, too?”
    “Stuffies, too,” I’d confirmed.
    “Okay!”
    I had no idea the actual state of the box she’d put her toys in. Nothing of hers was fragile, so it would do. I’d just shut the flaps and taped it closed without thinking on it too much.
    While she noisily packed up her toys—and took frequent breaks to play with them—I took on packing everything else. I brought all of my and Emmy’s clothes, not wanting to be without when I had no idea how long we would be gone. I even grabbed winter coats, though Emmy’s probably didn’t fit anymore. It was March. Things had warmed up, but weather was weird. If winter made a reappearance, I wanted to be ready. I was going to have no choice but to accept financial support from the club while we were there unless my protection was loose enough to allow me to work. However, that didn’t mean I wanted to ask the club for anything more than I had to. If I could avoid needing to buy clothes or coats, I was going to do so.
    I packed up bedding for both of us, luckily finding non-pink sheets still in the closet. I hadn’t used sheets in over a year. Somehow, I’d managed to get Roadrunner out the door the night before without him cottoning on to the fact that I slept on the couch. The apartment was a one bedroom. It was all I could afford. There was a door in the hallway to a