Bonnie nodded, her red lipstick smeared on thin lips. “Immediately.”
Cut sighed, his leather jacket creaking as anger wisped off him. “Fine,” he said sharply. “Nila Weaver, get the fuck out of my house.”
My heart crumbled.
Jethro crossed his arms, still shielding me. His ice slid back into place turning him impenetrable. “I’m the firstborn, and I say she isn’t fucking leaving.”
Cut moved around the table, his fists clenching. “You dare do this here, son? You know you’ll lose—”
“Wait!”
A feminine voice whipped through the aching tension in the room.
“Jaz? What the hell are you doing in here?” Jethro asked, his mask slipping as he looked at his wheelchair bound sister.
She rolled into the dining room with the aid of a blonde-curled maid. Jasmine’s bronze eyes met Cut’s. “She can’t go, Father. It’s not finished.”
Cut breathed hard through his nose, his temper throbbing beneath his frayed self-control. “Don’t speak of things you don’t understand. Jethro didn’t control the situation. This is his mess. He’s failed.” Cut looked piercingly at Jethro, sending goosebumps and terror down my spine. “It’s over. He’s done.”
The way he spoke...it sounded like a death sentence.
Jethro gasped, true fear coating his face. “It’s not over—”
“Shut. Up.” Cut sliced the air with his arm, silencing him. Looking at me, he snapped, “Leave, Ms. Weaver. Your time is up. I won’t tell you again.”
Jasmine’s gaze shot to Jethro’s. “Don’t let her go, Kite.”
Kite.
My soul splintered.
Bonnie shuffled forward. “I see what you’re doing, girl. Your family have been clever with their tricks and treachery, but I won’t let you spin any more of your filth.” Her wrinkly skin furrowed deeper with rage. “Get. Out.Now.”
“Was this always your plan, Father?” Jethro looked at Cut, panic and rage twisted his face. “You set me up to fail?” The depth of confusion and agony in his voice broke my heart.
My eyes flared wide. I didn’t understand.
“Jethro...he doesn’t matter. None of them do.” I squeezed his arm. “Believe in us. Believe in me.”
“Hush, stupid girl,” Bonnie snapped. “You’re the same as all the rest. Get out.” Pointing at the door, she hissed, “Go!”
The other bikers didn’t do a thing. Just sat and watched.
Jethro never tore his eyes off his father—they were clouded and strained. He was a trebuchet straining to release his tension.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered. “Don’t let them ruin what we have.”
We were damned to our fates, brought together by a ridiculousvendetta. Yet...something right had come out of something so wrong. We’d somehow found the one person we were meant to find.
I can’t go.
“You don’t understand, Nila. It’s not that easy.” Jethro looked at me, running his newly inked finger along the inside of my wrist. “Go, before it’s too late.”
Memories of the way he’d thrust inside me last night filled my mind. I’d meant what I said—Ifelthim—not just inside me, but what he hid insidehim.
It was more than truth.
It had been gospel in its legitimacy.
