Undeserving (Undeniable #5)(86)

"There you are!" Maria Deluva rushed inside the kitchen and gathered Frankie into her arms. "I was looking everywhere," she lovingly admonished her son and pressed a kiss to his cheek.



       
         
       
        

Maria was a small woman, slim and petite with olive skin and long jet-black hair, and one of the only people associated with the club that Debbie had yet to spend any real time with. Unlike the other wives and girlfriends, Maria was soft-spoken and reserved, and rarely made an appearance at the clubhouse. She was only here today because it was the first Saturday of the month, the one day each month that Preacher required everyone to gather for family day.

Even if Preacher himself wasn't currently here.

Three weeks earlier, Preacher had left for business reasons. The last Debbie had heard from him was almost a week ago, promising her he would be home two days ago. She wasn't worried yet; he often arrived later than he said he would. She simply missed him.

"More cookies, please." From Maria's arms, Frankie beckoned Debbie.

"How many have you had already?" Maria asked.

"Just two," Debbie lied.

"One more?" Frankie asked, holding up four fingers. "Please, Mama?"

"Oh, alright," Maria laughed. "Just one-"

"No more."

Everyone froze as Frank's booted feet pounded a heavy, authoritative cadence across the linoleum. He stopped beside Maria and placed a possessive arm over her shoulders. Maria seemed to stiffen further beneath him. Even little Frankie appeared eerily still. It was as if Frank's presence had sucked the life straight from them both.

Frank wasn't an overly large man, his stature was fairly similar to Preacher's. But standing beside his wife and son, instead of giving the impression of a doting husband and father, he had the look of a king dominating his subjects.

Frank was an enigma Debbie hadn't quite figured out yet. Although he dressed the part of a biker, he hardly looked like his fellow Silver Demons. His short hair was always neatly trimmed and perfectly styled, and his face was always clean-shaven. And unlike the other men, whose hands and clothing seemed forever stained with grease, Frank's were always uncommonly free of grime.

"Ready to go?" Though Frank was addressing Maria, his calculating gaze was on Debbie. She often found him staring at her-his brown eyes so dark they appeared black. And each and every time it made her uncomfortable. Yet, Preacher considered Frank a good friend, so Debbie was inclined to keep her feelings to herself.

Maria nodded mutely, and as Frank led his family from the kitchen Maria glanced over her shoulder and flashed Debbie a small, wooden smile.

"Say goodbye to Debbie," Maria encouraged Frankie.

Chocolate-covered fingers wiggled. "Bye-bye Debbie."

She blew the little boy a kiss. "Bye-bye Frankie."

Debbie remained inside the kitchen until she heard the front door open and close, signaling the Deluva's departure. Moving into the hallway, she stopped suddenly when she found Joe dangling over the side of the stairwell railing. 

"Debbie!" he whisper-shouted. "Where's Sylvie?" His one eye darted nervously around the hallway.

Debbie only shrugged in response. She'd made a point to never get involved in Joe and Sylvia's sham of a marriage. Grimacing, Joe spun away and darted up the stairs. Rolling her eyes, she continued on, pausing briefly to glance into the stairwell Joe had been hanging from.

The Silver Demons' brownstone was an impressive five stories high, not including the rooftop patio and flower garden. The second-floor apartment was where Gerald, Ginny, and Max had lived, while the third and fourth floors contained rooms for the club members.

Max lived with Joe and Sylvia now, and Preacher had closed off the second-floor. As for Ginny's flowers on the roof, Louisa and Debbie took turns tending to them as best they could.

Debbie entered the living room-a large space lined with couches and chairs in a variety of sizes and colors. Mismatched rugs covered the in-between areas. Large, colorful pop art prints from the 1950s and 1960s hung on nearly every wall. Near the back stairwell a bar area had been set up, and on the other side of the room sat a wall-to-wall entertainment center.

Today Louisa and Anne were huddled together at the bar, while Whiskey Jim was stretched out over one of the sofas, snoring loudly. Some Girls by the Rolling Stones was buzzing softly through the speakers while a Silver Demon named Bullet browsed the records.

"What's your pleasure today, Debbie darling?" Bullet called out. "We got Queen, we got the Doobie Brothers …  we got some Aerosmith … "