I understand if you’re not ready. But if there’s any chance you’d be willing to see me, I’d like to try.
Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it.
Jacob
I read it six times before sending it, then spent the next three days checking my email obsessively.
Her response came on Thursday.
Jacob,
I’ve been thinking the same thing. Yes, I’m willing to meet you.
I know you’re in Oregon and I’m in Tennessee. That’s a long way. We could meet somewhere in the middle—Denver, maybe, or Kansas City. Somewhere neutral.
Let me know what works for you.
Indira
I stared at her email, heart pounding. She was willing to meet.
But meeting in the middle felt wrong. This wasn’t about convenience or splitting the distance. This was about proving I’d do whatever it took, go wherever she needed me to go.
I wrote back within minutes.
Indira,
Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.
But I don’t want to meet in the middle. I want to come to you—Nashville, on your turf, wherever you feel safe. You pick the place. You set the terms. I’ll be there.
It’s a five-day ride from Millfield, so I’ll need a couple of weeks to get things squared away at the club before I can leave. How does three weeks from now work? We can figure out the details closer to the date.
Jacob
Her reply came the next morning.
Jacob,
Three weeks works. We can sort out where and when once you’re closer.
This is just a conversation. I’m not making any promises beyond that.
Indira
I stared at her email until the words blurred, hardly believing what I was reading. After months of patience, she was finally willing to see me face to face.
The next three weeks were a blur of preparation. I spent the first week making sure the club could run without me—briefing Holden on every pending deal, walking Glitch through the security contracts that needed attention, making sure Colt had what he needed for the Louisville expansion.
My brothers gave me shit about taking another road trip, but there was something different in their eyes this time. Less suspicion, more... respect, maybe. Or at least curiosity about whether this woman had really changed their prez.
“Listen up,” I said at the end of our last briefing session, all of them gathered in church. “I’m gonna give you assholes some free advice you didn’t ask for.”
Colt smirked. “This gonna be one of those famous Dutch speeches?”
“Yeah, it is. When you find your old lady—and I mean the real deal, not some club girl you’re screwing this week—you be loyal to her. You put her first. You don’t fuck around, you don’t make her doubt you, and you damn sure don’t give her reasons to walk away.”
Holden and Glitch exchanged glances. Colt rolled his eyes.
