“You want the police records?” Hailey snarled. “You want the emails where he says she made the worst mistake of her life and will never find a man like him? Do you want me to put that on the doc? You’re right; there is a massive fucking difference. And if I had to put a photo up of someone next to the definition of harassment in the dictionary, Spawn’s awful fucking mug would be right there.”
Jesus.
And it was a small miracle she hadn’t lost her cool when Spawn sat across from her.
I couldn’t say I understood. The things she was saying didn’t sound that bad—they didn’t sound great or ideal, but nothing that sounded criminal to me. But the intensity of Hailey’s reaction…
It pained me.
“I…I’ll talk to Spawn.”
“You were going to apologize, weren’t you?”
I bit my lip. I was. But however much pearl-clutching suburban moms thought “fuck” was a foul word that would bring upon the Black Plague, “sorry” was the equivalent to me.
“I’ll bring it up with Spawn.”
“Not good enough,” she said. “You were the president of the club. You are the president of the club. You are responsible for the actions of your boys.”
“Oh, come on—”
“Satan,” she said, drawing a deep breath, “if you’re willing to talk to Spawn, then you’re doing so because you want him to stop. You want him to stop for the sake of the club, right? So take responsibility.”
She turned away from me, steaming mad. I had to choose my next words carefully if I still wanted a shot at this. It wasn’t a position I was used to very much.
“You’re wrong,” I said, and that drew an even sharper glare. “I don’t want him to stop for the sake of the club. I want him to stop because it was a shitty thing to do. And…”
Goddamnit, this is either the best thing you can do or you’ve officially hit pussy status.
“I’m sorry you and your sister had to go through that.”
Hailey looked into my eyes and didn’t say a word for several seconds. I showed no other reaction, but I was very much serious with my words—even if I felt odd saying them. We’d gotten into our biker world because we weren’t sorry. And now…
Even in a world with no rules, there still needed to be proper behavior.
Well, somewhat.
“I appreciate that,” she said, sipping on her drink and speaking slowly. “I never thought I’d get an apology from anyone. I still want to hear it from Spawn. Or, no, I take that back. I don’t need to hear it from Spawn. My sister needs to hear it from Spawn.”
“What’s your sister’s name?”
“Melissa.”
“I’ll set something up,” I said, knowing how awkwardthatwas going to be, “but I can’t make any promises for when it will be. We got club shit going on right now, and club shit takes first priority.”
“What, he can’t take five minutes to write a letter—”
“Hailey,” I said firmly but gently.
She nodded and got the hint.
“I’m glad I got that off my chest.”
We both silently nodded.
“Why were you so excited to take on this job, then, with that family history?”
“Part of it was just being told to do it. But once I had no choice but to do it, I decided to make the most of it. I wanted an up-close and personal perspective. Was what she said all true? There were times, especially early, when suspending my judgment was all but impossible. Make no mistake; she hates your fucking guts.”
