“We haven’t had much peace on the ride down here.”
She smirks. “Is that why Zeb seems so protective over you?”
I don’t have any understanding of Zeb’s protectiveness over me. When we were in the shower together, I thought he was experiencing some lust for me. He got down on his knees and did things to me that Rakeem certainly never did. I can’t share details like that with somebody I just met.
“Zeb and I bonded back in Boston.”
“Romantically bonded?”
“I just got out of a relationship. He knows that…”
It’s not exactly an answer, and I doubt that I’ll actually get away with making that excuse. Zayna’s eyes flicker with curiosity, maybe. I don’t know anything about her and while I feel the sense of familiarity and comfort that I tend to feel with all black women, I know realistically that I’m not in a good place to blindly trust every single person that I meet.
“He might know that,” she says. “But it might not change his feelings.”
I hate that I don’t even know what feelings she’s referring to. He’s too hard to read. One minute, he’s wrapping his fingers around a gun and telling me to end someone’s life without so much as flinching. The next, he’s on his knees with me in the shower. My breath catches, and Zayna can tell that she got to me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sure you have been riding a long time and don’t have time for my questions. How much do you know about Zeb’s biker club?”
I know that they can fight and clean up messes, I know they most likely operate on the wrong side of the law. Clearly they have a network of fellow bikers that extends across the country far past the city boundaries of Boston. Calling all those passively absorbed details to mind only causes that uncomfortable cold knot to settle in the deepest base of my stomach.
Shifting my body won’t remove the tension.
“I don’t know much, I guess,” I mutter. If these people are truly dangerous, I don’t want to give the impression that I’m collecting details or information to save for later and snitch to the police.
Zayna shrugs. “That’s okay. You probably think the less you know the better off you’re going to be when you get out of here.”
Our eyes meet. I can’t tell if this is a play of some kind or if I really care.
“I don’t need to get into trouble with men who solve most of their problems with bullets.”
“Then you’re not entirely ignorant about what Zeb does?”
No, not entirely. But maybe I should be if I have any plans of surviving until my next birthday.
“Not entirely,” I tell Zayna, my heart pounding nervously. “But I’m not scared. I want to know… everything.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Yeah. Tell me everything. I can handle it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Isaac
Ilearn all the details about Zebulon’s trouble and what they learned about the bikers. Zeb will be fine. He’ll be at Ruger’s house by now, and once he’s there, we’ll have everything that we need to get the first crates of weapons out of San Diego. Once they get back up to St. Louis, I’ll have to get on my ass and contribute something unless I have a better plan for how to get enough money to keep up my expenses for the rest of the year.
I miss the kids. And I can’t stop thinking about everything that I’ve gone through with Tylee over the years.
Our relationship is over. I know it now.
I asked her so many times if she knew anything about Magnum’s situation. She looked me straight in the eyes and lied to me. I gave my whole life up for Tylee because I thought we would grow old together. I used to hate admitting it, but now I can’t avoid the truth – I can’t grow old with her.
Not just that, this might split the club. The Shaws are family folk. They’ll choose Tylee over me and where does that leaveme and the kids? They’re more important to me than anyone or anything. More important than any revenge.
I want to hold them again. Kyler. Max. Aimee. I miss each of them in a different way. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to make this work with Tylee, but when they grow up, my kids will know that I fought hard for them and did everything that I could to keep them safe and happy.
Each time Tylee and I brought another kid into the world, I had plenty of questions, believe me. I knew that she always took a few months off after giving birth when she was just too burnt out to do anything other than watch Real Housewives all day and make bottles. Anna explained to me that it was post-partum depression, which I could understand just fine.
