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"Probably," He grinned.
"And what would your client think?"
"Where do you think I got the joint?" he grinned. I huffed and rolled my eyes. He lit the joint and took a huge drag off of it. He barely even coughed. He held it out, offering it to me. "You sure you don't want a hit?"
"Positive," I said, giving him the okay sign with my hand. He nodded and continued driving. He cleared his throat as he took another hit.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, turning his head towards me. Oh God, I might actually take a hit of that joint now. So I took a deep breath and answered.
"Sureee,"
"Why'd you sleep with Jay?" I froze and stared at him. I huffed.
"Did you really just go there?"
"I did," he said, ashing the joint out of the window. I sighed, running my tongue across my teeth. I let out a short, unenthusiastic laugh.
"Wow, alright," I paused. "I'll take a hit off that now. " I pointed at the joint. Without saying, he handed it to me. I took a long drag and held my breath. I slowly released the smoke from my mouth. I instantly go into a coughing fit. "Jesus," I slowly groaned, catching my breath.
"You gonna tell me now?" Issac asked, taking the joint back. "Now that you're calming your anxiety."
"Tsk." I rested my head against the headrest. I felt content and calm. This is precisely what I needed. I took another deep breath. "It was my way to cope, something to distract myself. Do I wish I could take back things I did that night? Kinda, do I regret it, though? Not really. I was attacked. I killed someone, Issac. I wasn't myself that night, and I haven't been since. Even before that night, I haven't been the same person. My entire life did a one-eighty the night I was shot." I took another deep breath. "Almost dying kinda opens your eyes a little. You realize that death is inevitable. '' I looked over at Issac; he was biting his bottom lip, focusing on the road. I bit my thumbnail, rethinking my answer. Maybe I was too honest?
"I understand," Issac said, clearing his throat. I froze and snapped my head back towards him. "Before Isaiah left, he stole a kilo of coke from The Diablos, Carlos's gang, the guy who abducted you. Isaiah took the kilo because he wanted to deal in Vegas and sell it for a little more than what it was worth," he explained. I stared ahead at the road and pieced things together.
"I'm assuming that kilo was worth that missing sixteen thousand?" I asked.
"Yep," he answered and continued. "Nobody knew Isaiah stole a kilo from them. But he was already in Vegas when Carlos noticed it was gone. So when Carlos came knocking on my door asking where his drugs were, I had no idea what he was talking about. Also, during this time, I was trying to figure out how to run the club. So I was definitely in a cluster fuck. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about, and he didn't like that answer. I didn't notice he had a knife in his hand until it was too late. He slit my throat in front of the entire crew, including Doll. I don't remember much after that. Only waking up in the hospital being tube fed and barely being able to speak."
"I'm so sorry," I said with a frown.
"Don't be. Carlos thought he killed me and sent Isaiah a message, hoping he would react to his little brother potentially being killed. But he didn't; all we got was him asking if I was alive and nothing. So that's where this came from," He finished explaining while rubbing the long scar on his throat.
"Jesus, that's insane. So why is he still in your life if he did all that?" I asked. He cleared his throat and relit the joint, taking a hit.
"Because he's the club president. I don't have a choice."
"Well, seems he doesn't act like one."
"Trust me, I know," he said, passing the joint to me. I took another hit and handed it back. "Doll told me about your mom. I'm sorry"
"As I said, death is inevitable." he nodded and puckered his lips while tapping on the steering wheel.
"Anyway," Issac said, beginning to change the subject. I laughed a little. I'm glad we just had that little opening up to each other moment. Issac smiled and went to say something when he froze. "Fuck," he spat, looking in the rearview mirror.
"What?" I said, looking around. I saw red and blue flashing lights behind us. Oh, no. Issac pulled over and sighed.
"This should be interesting. '' He chuckled. I shook my head and watched the officer leave his car and walk to Issac's rolled-down window. "Officer," he said, greeting him as the officer reached his window.
"Mr. Raven," the officer said, leaning down and looking into the window, eyeing both of us. "Do you know why I pulled you over?" he asked.
"No, sir," Issac answered.
"You were going ten miles over the speed limit."
"Damn, was I?"
"Yup, license and registration, please," the officer requested. Issac reached for his wallet and pulled out his license.
