“That she is.” His gaze lifts to the front of the shop where she currently works. “The thought of her getting tangled up in this scares me, Jinx. I don’t like feeling vulnerable.”
“Congratulations,” I tease. “You’ve finally proved you’re human.”
He gives me a brief, wry smile before slipping back into his dark mood. “Life was so much easier when weed was illegal, don’t you think?”
“Change is always hard.”
“Rich coming from you,” he taunts.
He does know me best. My life has been so goddamn routine that the years all blend into one, and time seems to slip by a hell of a lot faster than I’d like. It’s not that I don’twantto change. It’s that I don’t know how. And yeah, maybe I’m a little scared too. Scared of steering myself into a life I don’t recognize, down a path that I don’t know.
Scared of losing the control that routine and familiarity give me.
“What’s next?” I ask, hoping to wrap up this deep dive into my inner psyche.
“Guess you better go find your girl and set things right,” Chaos says. “I want to know what her old man plans to do about the Breed. What’s he cooking up that we don’t know about, and how’s it going to get in our fuckin’ way when we need it least?”
There’s no denying the thrill that courses through me at the thought of seeing Kyra again, but knowing resolution is purely club-related? The feeling quickly sours, turning the coffee in my stomach.
”Sure.” I push the near-empty mug to the center of the table and rise from my seat. “Shouldn’t be hard.”
“With the way she looks at you,” Chaos retorts. “It should be a breeze.”
THIRTY-SIX
KYRA
My father walksout of the main doors to the Sheriff's office, plain clothes jacket over his uniform, and a duffel bag in his left hand. He stops when he spots me waiting, shoulders stiffening as though he contemplates returning indoors. "I thought I said I didn't want to see you."
"And I thought the fact that you chose to have children meant you can't ignore me. Guess we both like to break the rules."
"What do you want, Kyra?"
I remain seated on the low block wall at the front of the building, hands beside me as I swing my legs one after the other, kicking the concrete with my heels to expend nervous energy. "I want you to tell me what changed around here. Why did you drop an investigation into the death ofchildren? That's not the man I know you to be."
He pauses, exhaling as he seems to think over what to do next, and then continues down the path toward me. "I won't ask you how you heard about that," he snips. "It's not hard to figure out considering who you've chosen to spend time with."
"Actually," I bite back as he walks past my post and stops. "It was Mrs. Tallomore. Your network of know-it-alls is much more forthcoming with gossip than the Kings of Anarchy."
He faces forward, away from me, and sighs. "Come on. I'm hungry. I'll drop you off at home on the way."
I oblige, purely so he isn't waylaid too long and stresses Mom out when she's trying to keep his dinner warm without overcooking it. I opt to stay a few steps behind him as he leads us to his vehicle, savoring the silence while it lasts.
The tension will be tenfold when we're stuck in the confines of a car together.
My father waits until we're both buckled before reigniting the conversation as he pulls out of the car park. "Before I explain this, I want you to understand that I am under no obligation to share any information with you, especially when it relates to an active case."
"So, what? I'm supposed to be grateful that you choose to be open with me?"
He swivels his head to glare at me before looking back to the road. "I didn't drop the investigation. It was taken from me."
"By who?" Seems like he's going to relish forcing me to coax the information out of him, anyway.
"The F.B.I."
The hell?"Why?"
"It relates to an open case of theirs."
