“Hey,” I manage, completely thrown. How the hell do they even remember me? They barely saw my face.
“Queenie isn’t your real name, is it?” Jimmy asks. His tone is casual, but there’s no mistaking the authority in it. He’s the one in charge. Absolutely.
I shake my head as the group of youths subtly fan out, forming an arch around us. Enough to block us from view. Enough to trap us without it looking like they are.
Fern grips my arm, nails digging through my sleeve. She feels it too—the danger.
“So what is it?” Jimmy pushes, smiling like we’re sharing a joke.
“It’s… Eden.”
“Eden.” He repeats it with a grin that makes my stomach twist. “Pretty. And your friend?”
“Why do you want to know?” Fern shoots back. She always hides her fear with attitude, but her voice isn’t as steady as usual.
“Just being friendly, sweetheart.”
“Well, I’m not your sweetheart, and we’re in a rush, so—” She tugs my hand to pull me away, but one of the teens steps directly into our path, blocking us with a lazy, deliberate stance.
“Now, now,” Jimmy says, voice dipping. “Let’s not get all huffety. I’m a friend of the club.”
Fern spins back to him. “I’ve never seen you.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know your old man.” Jimmy tilts his chin at her. “Diesel’s ol’ lady, right?”
Her spine straightens. “That’s right. And he doesn’t like me chatting to strangers. So, if you don’t mind, we have to go.”
Jimmy flicks his hand. The teenagers part instantly, silent as shadows.
“Have a good day,” he says, winking.
We’re barely two steps away when his voice carries after us. “You’ll look hot in the little lace number, Queenie. Kade’s a lucky man.”
My blood turns to ice. Fern grabs my hand, and we practically run all the way to the cocktail bar.
“Are you calling Kade, or shall I?” Fern asks.
I groan, “Can you? I don’t need him to lie again about how these guys aren’t trouble, or how they’re old friends of the club, cos that out there, didn’t seem friendly.”
She gives a sympathetic smile before pulling out her phone and pacing to a quieter corner.
I fill the others in while we wait for our drinks. But the second the Porn Star Martini tree hits our table, Fern returns, face pale.
“He’s sending a couple of the guys to escort us home.”
KADE
“That fucker,” Diesel growls the moment I finish telling him about Fern’s call. “I’m gonna kill him.”
I shake my head. He knows as well as I do we can’t. Not yet.
I drop into my chair, elbows on my desk, and bury my head in my hands. Because this mess? ThisJimmymess? It’s mine.
Making the deal with Jimmy and his brother was a stupid fucking move, but Bull left me no choice.
Bull. Former Vice President, back when my pops was in charge. While Pops thought he’d cleaned the club up—dragged us out of the dirt—Bull was doing all kinds of shady shit behind his back. Smuggling. Side deals. Cash jobs. His own personal little empire.
One of those deals ran too deep. Too big. Too tangled for me to cut us loose cleanly.
