When I left, I wrote Jack a letter explaining my need to break things off. I left it for him on our kitchen table—not my best ideain hindsight. Jack spent the next month messaging and calling me, trying to grapple with our breakup. Many of his messages were apologies and promises that our relationship would be better if I came back. Then his messages turned angry, and he lashed out with evil and harsh insults. Same story, different day. I blocked his number after that month and haven’t heard from him since. Until now.
I offer him an anxious smile. “How have you been?”
“Pretty good. I live here now,” he says as he looks at me. “Got a job working private security.”
“What happened to business school?” I ask in a curious voice. Private security was a big jump from his original plan of owning his own business.
He shrugs, and an angry look passes across his face. “After you left…” he starts, but shakes his head and stops himself. “I needed a change,” he says matter-of-factly. The DJ changes songs, and the sea of people behind us erupts in excitement. I wait until the noise level isn’t deafening before responding. In that moment, Jack turns to the bar, avoiding eye contact with me.
“I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I didn’t think there was another way,” I say in a low voice. He turns to me with a look that sends a shiver down my spine. It is almost as if his anger from the past year and a half has come flooding back and he’s fighting with everything he has to control it. But as quickly as it is there, it is gone again; he hides it behind a cool exterior. I blink at his rapid mood swing.
“I get it, darling. You were doing what you thought was best. Hey, I ended up finding my family after you left, so I’m in a good place now.” He takes a swig of his beer and places it on the counter. Jack’s parents passed away in a car accident a few years before we got together. It was heart-wrenching, and for a longtime, I was his only family. I am glad to hear that he has found people he’s become so close with.
“That’s good, Jack,” I say as I sip my drink. The rum settles in my stomach, sending a warm sensation through my body.
“So, what are you up to now?” he says, keeping the conversation going. I open my mouth to answer, but all of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room changes. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and the warm sensation I had felt turns to lead in my stomach.
Jack’s face turns to stone as he leans off the bar, staring at something behind me. I slowly turn and catch sight of Blaze walking through the crowd. I turn a little more and see Jax. For a moment, I think I am imagining things. Why would they be at a club?
Blaze glances over in my direction, but it doesn’t seem like he saw me as the two of them continue to stride to their destination. The look on both their faces tells me they aren’t here for fun. I avert my gaze, trying not to attract attention to myself. I know that if one of them sees me, they will probably be shipping me back to the apartment. I was told to stay close to town and to check in with Cal. I have done neither tonight. Cal and I have become pretty good friends the past few weeks, seeing as how he was forced to spend most of his time with Marley and me. He would be pissed to know I didn’t listen to directions very well. Now I understand why; it seems like something is happening tonight.
As if on cue, my phone vibrates in my bag. I reach inside, and my heart begins to pound. Axel is calling me. I silence the call, knowing I won’t be able to hear him in the club, and send a quick text.
Jenna
Out with a friend. I’ll call when I get home.
I hit send and clutch the phone in my hand, waiting for his response. I look up at Jack. His posture seems defensive, and his eyes don’t shift away from the men making their way to the back of the building. He shouldn’t know who they are. Why does he care?
“Are you okay?” I ask in a calm voice.
Jack turns back to the bar and downs his beer. He quickly orders another and then turns to me. I catch sight of Prince walking up the stairs that lead to what I assume is the VIP area, a few other men wearing cuts following behind him. I recognize a few of them, but many are unfamiliar to me. What are the Hell Chasers doing here?
I tilt my head back down to my drink, trying not to think about it. The MC runs so many businesses I wouldn’t be surprised if this is one of them. I take another sip of my drink and long for the comfort of my apartment. Slipping on a warm set of pajamas and watching trashy TV sounds way better than being here. My head is pounding from the loud music, and I am ready to head home. This run-in with Jack is not helping my already frayed nerves.
Just then, a pair of hands land on the bar on either side of my body, encasing me in my seat. I stare at the tattoos that cover the hands in front of me. They’re the same hands that a few weeks ago were all over my body. I don’t need to turn around to know whose hard body is pressed against my back.Axel.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
axel
Two days ago,Prince got a call from the Reapers president. He asked for a sit-down meeting to discuss heightened tensions. I didn’t feel good about it, but the Prez has the final say. He agreed, but only if we met in neutral territory. The club Tipsy isn’t owned by either MC, and the management owes the Hell Chasers a favor, so we chose it as the meeting ground.
I walk into the club on high alert. The place is packed. Everyone seems too drunk to notice that we are here. Prince is doing the real business, but many of us came in case something goes south. The probability of that happening is high, seeing as they are already less than cooperative. Being out of our territory makes my palms twitch; there are too many unknowns.
I’m just getting off my bike when my phone rings in my pocket. It’s Cal letting me know Jenna hasn’t checked in tonight. My heart thunders in my chest, and a surge of protectiveness shoots through my body. The feeling makes me uncomfortable. Jenna isn’t mine, and she can’t be. So why the hell do I feel this way? I shake my head in disbelief. Tonight isn’t the night I need to deal with this shit.
I hang up with Cal and immediately call Jenna. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Where the fuck is she? Just then, I geta text from her saying she is out with a friend and she will call later. Is she fucking joking?
I quickly ring up Ace and ask him to track Jenna’s phone and send the location to Cal. He will go get her and take her home. I take a deep breath. Knowing that Jenna is just out with a friend gives me momentary relief from the possessive, protective feeling surging through my body.
I need to deal with whatever is happening inside first, then I’ll find her and remind her that she needs to take her safety seriously. We don’t have round-the-clock security on all the club women for no reason. Jenna isn’t technically a club woman, but they threatened her as one, so we decided as a club that she would be under our protection until we feel she is safe.
I step into the dark building and make my way toward the back. A large staircase leads to the VIP area the manager has cleared for our meeting. I see Prince and the guys making their way up and decide to take a quick scan of our surroundings. The second floor is covered in what appears to be black mirrors, but really, I know they are two-way mirrors. The VIP area gives the illusion of being in a secluded, untouchable area.
Swerving through the crowd, I catch sight of bright auburn hair at the bar. I keep walking, thinking nothing of it, then halt in my tracks, turning again. I take a closer look, and my heart slams in my chest. Jenna is here.
Fuck, she is here in a club full of Reapers. I can’t help but take note of what she is wearing. Her perfect body is wrapped in a black dress that is painted on. The front of her dress stretches open to reveal a generous helping of cleavage. I instantly want to rip my shirt off and shove it over her torso.
