I FUCKIN KNOW THAT. WHERE R U?
I so don’t want to tell him where I’m at or what I’m doing, but he can be relentless. I think I need his help anyway, so I give him the address of the neighbor lady. I hope he doesn’t recognize the street name as the Jennings’ street, but knowing my luck, he will.
DON’T MOVE, he says.
ON WAY HOME. I hope this will calm him down.
It doesn’t.
DON’T FUCKIN MOVE, he says and finishes it off with, I GOT 2 HUNT U DOWN, I WON’T BE HAPPY.
That makes two of us, dude. He shouldn’t be looking for me. He’s not on patrol at the house anymore since Dad caught wind of Jeremy’s antics about switching out detail with Diesel anytime he was supposed to be keeping an eye on me. If Dad sent him to find me, then I’m in even more trouble than I think.
Oh well. All I know is that I’m fed up with running into one roadblock after another. I’m basically getting nowhere with everything I’m doing, and if Jeremy can shed some light on some of this, then maybe working with him won’t be so terrible.
I shouldn’t want to share this with him, but I kind of do. For some reason, I trust that he won’t rat me out. I shouldn’t want to share anything with him, especially considering I’ve already shared him with the former bestie. The pain from that betrayal is still too fresh to think about without getting upset. Still, this is information the club might need, so I’m going to try to set my feelings aside. I’m not getting very far on my own, and Holly is too important to me to not keep trying. For Holly, I can be mature enough to work with that stupid idiot. I just won’t call him that to his face.
CHAPTER 16
February
14 months to Mancuso’s downfall
I’m waiting on the Jennings’ front porch when I hear Jeremy’s bike in the distance. I couldn’t very well have hung out at the neighbor’s house. That would have been awkward. His bike is loud, but not as loud as Dad’s bike or even Duke’s. I think Ryan’s bike is the loudest, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. Jeremy’s bike sounds a little rougher than the other guy’s bikes. It probably needs a tune-up and some work. I know Duke’s been teaching him how to take care of her, but he’s still a little green around the shop.
When he pulls up, his expression is unreadable. My heart beats faster and faster the closer I get to having to talk to him, to really seeing him. The last time I saw him, I was so angry and then so hurt. He cuts the bike off and dismounts, then takes off his helmet and sets it on the seat of the bike. He’s wearing dark sunglasses even though it’s cold and overcast. It’s freaking February in Mendocino County for crying out loud. Why on earth is he wearing sunglasses?
He strides up quickly, his jaw firmly set and his cheeks pinched in a manner that leads me to believe he’s tense. Underneath his cut is a black sweatshirt with the Forsaken symbol across the chest. I look down at my own black Forsaken hoodie and blush. Wearing the same thing is a little embarrassing for some reason. Maybe it’s because it reminds me of our connection—to the club—and that we’ll never really be able to go our separate ways and be out of each other’s lives. Not that I really want to be out of his life.
“Hey,” I say and clear my throat, trying to get rid of the hoarse nervousness I hear in my voice.
He doesn’t say a word as he reaches the porch, steps up, and turns toward me. His stride doesn’t falter the closer he gets. Wide footsteps close in on me, never slowing, and he is on me in a moment, his chest bumping into mine, pushing me backward. I stumble into the column behind me and am caught between the cool plaster and Jeremy’s warm, hard body. His tangy breath washes over my face, engulfing me in the sweet smell of whiskey. He doesn’t even look down at me—nothing. He just stands here like he’s shielding me from the world.
Jeremy’s arm lifts at his side, and a hard object brushes against my stomach. The quiet click of the safety releasing tells me he’s pulled out his gun. His free hand lifts, barely tracing the curves of my body from my hip up to my ribs to the sides of my breasts and up above my head as he slaps it against the column and anchors himself to me. His tangy sweet breath comes harder and faster on my face now. His chest rises and falls quickly. His heartbeat is so fast that I worry for him. Our torsos push together, letting me share his adrenaline. He’s been drinking and riding, and this isn’t what I expected.
I don’t know what I expected.