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Zane clears his throat, furrowing his brows. “Wait a second. Jordyn told her fathers she stayed at a friend’s place ‘cause she was tipsy,” His eyes narrow, locking onto mine like twin lasers. “So, you’re telling me she lied?”
I keep my face impassive, muscles tightening under his scrutiny. I thought everything was good and dandy, but apparently not.
Zane’s stare doesn’t waver, and I can see the questions swirling behind those sharp eyes.
He arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to break. “Well?” he presses.
“Didn’t say anything about that,” I reply coolly, keeping my voice steady. The truth hangs heavy between us, but I ain’t confirming or denying. Not my place to spill Jordyn’s secrets, or tell them what the two of us were doing that night.
Blackjack’s low chuckle breaks through the thick air. “Careful, Bama,” he warns, amusement lacing his words. “Treading on dangerous ground there.”
“I’m always careful,” I counter, meeting his gaze with a half-smile.
But inside, my guts twist.
Being with Jordyn feels like balancing on a knife’s edge, and one wrong move could cut deep.
“Good,” Blackjack nods, his grin fading into something more serious. “Keep it that way.”
I glance over at him once more, “I count on it.”
Ripper clears his throat, cutting through the tension. “We think the fight between Bama and Blake is only going to cause more issues with the Commander.”
“No shit,” Zane says, leaning back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. His eyes scan the room, calculating. “But the threat’s already there. The Commander had Bama shot, remember? Ain’t like we can make it much worse.”
“I’m sure beating the shit out of his grandkid isn’t gonna help,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the phantom pain from that bullet wound flare up.
“Exactly,” Zane continues, eyes narrowing. “So while it’s a problem, it isn’t the biggest one on our plate right now. Regardless, we’ll handle it like we always do.”
Blackjack cuts in, voice gravelly as ever. “We need to start nailing down a plan to deal with the Commander, and soon.”
“Yeah,” I agree, my mind already racing through possible strategies. “Sooner the better.”
“Leave that to the big dogs. The two of you are dismissed,” Zane states, signaling Ripper and me to get the fuck out of his office.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jordyn
I push open the door to the boutique, the bell jingling above me.
Mom is already flipping through a rack of summer dresses, her eyes sharp like she’s scoping out a target.
It’s been three weeks since Bama and I started this thing, this relationship, and I’m still riding that high.
Every time I think about him, my heart does this stupid little flutter, like a damn schoolgirl.
“Hey, Ma,” I say, trying to sound casual as I join her.
The scent of lilacs and leather fills the air, familiar and comforting.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says without looking up, her fingers skimming over the fabric. “Find anything good?”
“Not yet,” I reply, but my mind’s not really on the clothes.
It’s on Bama. And how he’ll look at me when I wear one of these dresses.
His ocean-blue eyes, that crooked grin—it makes me feel like I’m floating on a cloud.
