"You'll come back Sunday?" my mother confirms, still holding Jenny's hand.
"Wouldn't miss it," Jenny promises with a smile.
And that's the worst part of all this. We've agreed to come back for Sunday dinner, just two days from now, extending this lie even further. I hate deceiving my mother. She deserves better than this, better than me.
We finally say our goodbyes, with my mother insisting on sending us home with leftover pot roast and the remainder of the apple pie. As we step out into the cool night air, Jenny carrying the containers and me holding the door, my mother calls after us:
"Remember what I said, Derek. Treat her right!"
I nod without turning, feeling the weight of the deception heavy on my shoulders.
Jenny and I walk in silence to where my Harley waits at the curb. I secure the leftovers in the saddlebag, still aware of every move she makes, every breath she takes.
"That went well," she finally says, her voice soft in the night. "Your mom is really sweet."
"Yeah," I agree, turning to face her. "She likes you."
"I like her too." Jenny looks up at me, her green eyes catching the streetlight. "She raised a good man."
The compliment is unexpected and undeserved. I'm not a good man. Good men don't fantasize about fucking their friend's sister. Good men don't lie to their mothers about relationships.
"We should head back," I say, clearing my throat and reaching for the spare helmet.
I'm about to hand it to her when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, surprised to see Tank's name on the screen. For a second, I consider not answering. What if he somehow found out where we are? What we're doing?
But I'm Beast. I'm not scared of anything or anyone, not even Tank's overprotective brother routine. I hit accept.
"Yeah?" I answer, keeping my voice neutral.
"Where are you?" Tank demands without preamble, his tone tense but not angry.
"Out," I reply vaguely, glancing at Jenny. She looks concerned, mouthing "Is that Tank?" I nod.
"With Jenny?" he asks, and my blood runs cold for a moment until he continues. "Look, we'll talk about what the fuck you're doing with my sister later, but right now you both need to get back to the clubhouse."
The tension in his voice registers, pushing aside my guilt. "What happened?"
"Iron Eagles hit us. Drive-by. Broke some windows, shot up the bar. No one's seriously hurt, but Chaos took a graze to the arm and Rookie caught some glass in his face."
"Fuck," I mutter, adrenaline immediately flooding my system. "Everyone else?"
"Accounted for. Luna's here patching up the guys. Amelia and Anna are secure in the panic room. King's organizing retaliation. I need every man back, including you."
I straighten, shifting mentally from Derek to Beast, from the son and fake boyfriend to the enforcer. "We'll be right there."
"Good. Bring my sister directly here. Rage is still out. He went to pick up his kid from the sitter. Keep your eyes open. These fuckers might still be in the area."
"Got it," I say, already calculating the fastest route back that avoids open areas where we'd be vulnerable on the bike. "ETA ten minutes."
"Make it five," Tank says, then adds, "And Beast? We will definitely talk about why you're out with my sister later."
He hangs up before I can respond, which is probably for the best since I don't have a good answer.
Jenny's watching me with wide eyes. "What's wrong?"
"Iron Eagles attacked the clubhouse," I say, handing her the helmet. "Everyone's okay, but we need to get back now. Your brother wants you safe inside."
"Oh my God," she gasps, taking the helmet. "Amelia and Anna—"
