She paused, holding a knife. She was chopping vegetables or something for a salad, basically the sort of thing I’d never bother eating.
“If I can save lives, I’ll do whatever it takes,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re doing this for the war?”
“Yeah, I am. This club has given me so much. If I can save some of your lives by making this war go faster, I’ll do it.”
I nodded. I hadn’t thought about how winning the war faster would mean saving some lives. Frankly, death was just a part of life as a biker, and you took that risk every time you put on the cut.
But from her perspective, it made sense. She wanted to save lives.
“I get that,” I said.
“So you’re going to stop being a dick about this then?”
“I didn’t say that.” I smirked at her. “I’m not going to make this easy for you.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Sorry, princess, but you’re making a mistake.”
She just shook her head and went back to chopping.
She was pissed, but that was fine. I was sure she was fucking up, making a dumb move just out of obligation to Larkin. He shouldn’t have asked her, and she shouldn’t have said yes, but we were too far for all that.
I wasn’t going to actively stop her, but I wasn’t going to support this shit either.
I kicked my feet up and leaned back, ready to do this for the long haul.
13
Janine
Clutch wasn’t in the mood to talk, and neither was I. After he’d told me flat out that he thought I was making a mistake, I took my lunch into my room and spent the next few hours watching Netflix while he sat on my couch.
I had a knot in my stomach the size of Texas. Clutch didn’t know it yet, but I was going to meet Jetter at the clubhouse later that night. I didn’t feel like telling him what was going down later on, since he really didn’t need to know.
But I wished I could talk to him about it. Maybe he wasn’t the subtlest guy in the world, but at least he seemed to give a shit about me. He’d be able to offer advice or at least a comforting grunt or two.
Instead, he was making it fucking clear that he didn’t support this and wasn’t going to. Fine, he didn’t need to support it, but he at least should have been trying to help make this easier on me. This decision was hard enough without Clutch giving me shit for it, giving me those looks, making me rethink everything.
I didn’t realize that he had the power to make me reconsider my decision, but as I kept thinking about that kiss, about the dream I’d had about him, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t tell what it meant, if I cared about him or if I just wanted to feel his hands against my body, slowly stripping my clothes.
And I had no real way of knowing, not anymore. I couldn’t just walk out there and strip off his clothes, or maybe let him strip off mine. I wanted to. I wanted to let him do all the dirty things he’d promised he could do. I believed that he could make my body feel incredible, do things to me that I’d only ever dreamed about, especially after that kiss.
But we were way past that now. We’d had our chance the night before, but I had backed down. I could have given myself to him, or at least let him take me, but I had stopped it just before that had happened.
Maybe that was a mistake. Hell, it probably was, but there was no going back now. I wanted it, but I shouldn’t.
After a few hours, I eventually changed into clean clothes and went back out into the living room.
And laughed at what I saw.
Clutch’s feet were kicked up on the coffee table, and he was fast asleep.
I stared at him, grinning. I went into the kitchen, got two pans, and snuck up behind him.
I banged those things together as loudly as I could.
He jumped up, startled and grunting. He reached for his gun and almost drew it out until he noticed me laughing my ass off.
“The hell you doing?” he asked, annoyed.
“Just waking my bodyguard up.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re the worst bodyguard. Anyone could have come in here.”
“You could have gotten shot.”
“You were sleeping!”
He shrugged. “You can’t prove it.”
I shook my head again, smiling big. “Come on. Take me to the club.”
He grumbled but complied, getting his stuff.
I smiled to myself the whole way back to the clubhouse.
We stood outside the front door and Clutch looked at me. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m about to meet Jetter for the first time.”
He stared at me, unmoving. “Really.”
“Yeah.” I looked up at his rough, handsome face. “I’m nervous.”
He nodded. “I’m here. You’ll be fine.”
I bit my lip and nodded once. I wanted to say something else, but instead I walked into the clubhouse, Clutch just behind me.
The place was still crowded. I went right back to my dad’s office and knocked, Clutch coming along with me.
“Come in,” Dad called from inside.
I walked inside. “Hi, Janine,” he said. “Clutch.”
“Hi, Dad. Where is he?”