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“Protect me?” I scoff, straightening up, crossing my arms. “I’m not some damsel in distress, Bama. We’re supposed to be partners in this. Equals. How can we be that if you keep shit from me?”
“Jordyn, please,” he starts, but I hold up a hand to silence him.
“Save it. We need to talk. Now.” My tone leaves no room for argument, and he knows it.
“All right,” he agrees, standing up, squaring his shoulders. “Let’s talk.”
“Good,” I say, spinning on my heel and heading toward a quieter spot.
Bama follows closely, and though I can feel the tension radiating off him, I don’t slow down.
This conversation is long overdue, and we’re going to settle it once and for all.
It’s crazy how today is supposed to be about happiness and celebrating my cousin’s graduation, but all I can seem to think about is why the hell Bama would keep something like this from me?
Sure, I get that club business is club business.
I understand the politics of the club life.
Trust me, I get it because I’ve grown up around it my whole life . . . but him keeping me in the dark didn’t just piss me off, it hurt me.
He and I need to have a long discussion about what’s going to be acceptable in our relationship and what isn’t.
I’m not an asshole here. I understand he’s a prospect and he has to prove himself, but the man has already gotten shot for the club.
Trust me, Zane knows that his loyalty is exactly where it should be.
I just wish I felt a little bit of that loyalty too.
CHAPTER TEN
Bama
“What's got you all riled up?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart drums louder than the engines in the garage. “Is it just about me talkin’ to them about what happened at the bar?”
She doesn’t answer right away, just crosses her arms and leans back, her gaze never leaving mine.
It's like she’s measuring me, deciding if she’s going to speak at all.
“Jordyn,” I say again, softer this time. “Come on, tell me.”
The corners of her mouth twitch, not quite a smile, but close enough that I can see the humor fighting through the anger. “You should have at least had the decency to give me a heads-up, Bama,” she snaps. “Talking to Blackjack and Zane about the bar? You know how they are. And now my dads know about us.”
“Why’s that a problem? The cat was gonna come out of the bag at some point or another.” I ask, genuinely confused.
The club is family. Family is going to end up knowing about things like this.
“Because,” she bites out, leaning forward, eyes blazing darker. “I have a good relationship with them. Part of that is being honest, upfront. Now it looks like I was hiding something.” Her voice rises, raw and edged. “Not all of us had shitty parents we didn’t communicate with.”
“Whoa,” I say, taken aback.
Her words hit like a sucker punch, knocking the wind out of me.
I reach for my beer, needing something to ground me.
The cold liquid slides down my throat, but it does nothing to wash away the sting of her words.
“That one burned, Jordyn,” I say, licking my lips.
