“Most of them are out on runs right now,” Lucinda answers. “Summer through the beginning of November is the big business season for the club. Lots of deals and deliveries. And there used to be summer tours for Griffin Latham too before his papa made him come home.”

Lucinda peers up at me. “That’s why everybody was so surprised when Waylon took a couple of weeks off in Delaware last year. He stayed because of you, right?”

“Because he was recovering from a bullet wound,” I correct. “He would’ve been down for a few weeks no matter what state he was in or who was with him.”

“Okay, if you say so,” Lucinda answers cheerfully.

But her knowing smile says she doesn’t believe me.

“Anyway, Crazytown is not with those guys right now. Waylon put him on the special town project so he can be close when the baby is born.”

“But I thought you said Crazytown didn't want anything to do with the baby.”

Lucinda shrugs. “He doesn't. He probably wishes he was out on the road. But Waylon said he had to stay. Anyway, Meemaw is very excited about becoming a grandma to Crazytown Sr.’s first and only grandchild.”

“I bet. She’s a really nice lady.”

The thought of Meemaw warms my otherwise jumbled thoughts. I don’t think there’s anything such as a former foster kid who doesn’t instantly love people who help others who aren’t related to them without any agenda other than being nice. “She’ll make a great grandma.”

“She is, and she will,” Lucinda agrees, her former cheeriness relighting in her voice. “She gave me my first job at the compound, you know. Helped me out when I needed it most. She used to run the maid service over at the compound up until she moved out here—way before everybody else joined her because Waylon decided to start a town. But you must watch her. I had no plans of settling down myself. I was only interested in giving the bikers who don’t have old ladies maid service when they wanted it. But then Meemaw invited me over to her trailer for dinner back when Crazytown Sr. was still alive. And wouldn't you know, Crazytown Jr. was there too. No more maid service for me. We were together ever since—at least until I got pregnant.”

These people in this town are not my problem. My only focus should be figuring out how to get out of here.

But I find myself asking, “How far along are you?”

“I'm not sure,” she answers with a wince. “Crazytown and I were never great about protection, but Dr. Johnny figured I was at least two months along when I came in to talk to him about it. So I guess that makes me around seven months now.”