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“Doesn’t sound like it. You goin’ soft on me?”
He doesn’t answer.
“What is it?” I prompt, pulling back. He’s been acting off for weeks.
“Cash.”
I try not to roll my eyes. “What about him?”
Cash is the MC President for the NOLA Rebels MC, and I know that he wants Jett and me to join.
“He wants us to prospect for the MC.” He says it like I don’t already know.
I try to suppress a groan. I know Cash seems like a decent enough man, but I don’t trust him. I don’t trust anyone.
“So what?”
“So, we won’t have to live like this anymore.”
I frown. “Live like what? I thought we were makin’ our own rules?”
Jett shakes his head. “Aren’t you sick of runnin’?”
I stare at him.
Why does this already feel like a loss… Like I’m losing my brother for good?
Jealousy courses through me.
Jett and I have had plenty to argue about over the years, but we’re street smart. We know these dirty holes better than anyone, and I don’t like the idea that Jett would need anyone else but me. We’ve always been there for each other.
I don’t like this one bit. It makes me anxious.
“You know what my answer is,” I say. “That hasn’t changed.”
“Why are you bein’ so stubborn about this? It’s a chance for us to get back on our feet. To get off the streets, start a new life.”
I step back like he’s slapped me.
He knows how I feel about men in positions of power. We don’t mix.
Not after our childhood…
It’s the same way I feel about the man who molested us as children, which is why I don’t trust anyone, especially men within an MC. They don’t have anyone’s best interests at heart except their own.
Everyone is a goddamn liar until proven otherwise but, unfortunately, my little brother has a penance over his head and tends to believe outside influences. I’m not interested in that, and I’m not interested in Cash Hudson or his club.
“What’s wrong with how we live?” I question, knowing that how we live is no picnic.
“Rock, come on. This is no way to get ahead; we’re always hungry. We steal to get by. We have no real home. This is a chance for the both of us… Cash can help us.”
“I don’t need anybody's help, brother. I told you that a long time ago.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of runnin’.”
“Tired of me?”
“Didn’t say that.”
