“That’s her,” Indiana says as Icer grunts, taking another sip of his beer before mumbling about her being an annoying little shit.
“I remember. What about her?”
“She just graduated from college with a Bachelor degree in education,” Indiana informs us. “Top of her class from what I was told and is having a hard time finding a position. She’soverqualified for those small towns and the bigger ones aren’t hiring.”
“No,” Icer snarls. “Don’t want her here.”
“Icer,” I scold, “kids grow the fuck up. I doubt she’ll have any interest in following you around like a love sick puppy.”
“Don’t care,” he rumbles. “People don’t change that much. She never gave me a moment of peace and I don’t want to relive that.”
“I think that’s the most words I’ve heard strung together come out of you,” Indiana taunts. “But Rip’s right, man. She’s grown up and from my understanding is far from the kid she was when we knew her.”
“How so?” I ask, wanting to know as much as Indiana does about Jersey. Her father was a hang around when Paps was in charge of the West Texas chapter of the Kings, so she knows about the MC lifestyle and how to conduct herself. If we don’t think she’ll do anything to cause Icer to string her up in the nearest tree, she’d be the ideal candidate.
“From the reports I got from back home from some of my buddies I still talk to every now and again, she either witnessed or was involved in something in college that changed her. She’s no longer a follower, she’s more of a loner. She doesn’t attend parties and stays as far away from their catch up reunions. But she’s always the first one to volunteer when someone’s kid needs help or watching over.”
“Still not convinced,” Icer declares. “You haven’t said anything to convince me otherwise. My answer is still no.”
“Damn,” I spit out. “What a shame it’s not up to you.”
“I won’t have someone like that around my princess influencing her to be a pain in the ass,” he vehemently denies. Both of our heads swivel in his direction because if that’s not the pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.
“As opposed to you?” Indiana asks, raising his brows. “If anyone influences her to be a pain in the ass, it’s you.”
Wanting to stop this squabble before it becomes a brawl, I clear my throat and order, “Get me a jacket put together for Jersey and have it to me after Valentine’s.”
“Will do,” Indiana says, his tone bragging as he shoots Icer a triumphant look. I roll my eyes and head inside, leaving them to sort out their own shit.
I’m getting too fucking old for this brand of malarky. And people wonder why I always act like I’m walking on a sword’s edge. All they have to do is spend five minutes alone with the clowns I call brothers and they’ll have their answer.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
Van
“Fucking asshole,”I mumble under my breath as my neurotic boss drones on and on about how I’ll never find a job in this town or industry once the word gets out about me breaking my contract. “I have it right here in front of me, and it states in black and white that there will be no traveling required with my new position. And since this is a legally binding contract, I’d say you’re the one who broke it first and are in violation,” I argue.
“This company asked for you specifically,” he claims. “What am I supposed to tell them when you don’t show up?”
“The truth,” I state. “It’s a concept that we all learn at an early age.”
“There’s no need for you to get snippy with me, Savannah,” he seethes.
“I’m snappy because you aren’t listening to me and you’ve threatened me,” I maintain.
“I didn’t threaten you,” he proclaims, sounding appalled by my accusation.
“In a nutshell, that’s exactly what you just did,” I contend. “But this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere. I’ve sent in my final files and the website has been revised with the updates for the Morris Group. My last obligation to you has been completed.”
He continues with his rants, trying to change my mind about resigning my position, all of which goes in one ear and out the other. By the time we wrap up this chat, I have a raging headache. It seems no matter how old some folks get, they still don’t understand the word no.
As soon as my cell phone none too gently hits the top of the kitchen table after I toss it out of frustration, Rush comes strolling into the room, asking me, “How’d it go?”
“As expected. He tried to throw his weight around and I had to give him some hard truths,” I gripe. “The asshole thought he had grounds to file a lawsuit against me for breach of contract until I started reading it off to him.”
“Bet he changed his mind after that, didn’t he?” Rush inquires as he leans over my back and wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my shoulder.
