Do you think I’ll get away with wearing one of them?
I hear him sigh as I debate my choices, feel him move, my body in tune with his steps, though I stay focused on my shirts, well, more his.
I really want to grab one of his.
“Here,” he says, and I frown and look his way, only my eyes land on one of the T-shirts he’s holding up for me.
I’m woman enough to say I don’t hesitate. I take the soft cotton from him, and everything in me relaxes as I take a step away from him and place it on the large bench seat in the middle of the room, keeping my eyes on it like it’s going to disappear.
I quickly put my leggings on, vaguely aware he’s watching me but my focus is on his shirt and without even thinking or remembering on one of the reasons why I wanted it, or at least one of them to begin with, I lift my dress over my head.
I hear him suck in a breath, and I try not to freeze as I grab his shirt and quickly put it on.
Dammit, I didn’t want him to know I haven’t been eating.
“You’ve still got your tat, huh?” he asks instead of questioning my ribs that he most likely could see.
I snort, not bothering to answer him. Instead, I chuck my torn dress near the trash can in here knowing I have plenty of my oldclothes surrounding me which I have to admit is a relief because my clothes at the apartment are on their last legs before I finally turn towards him, cross my arms over my chest and give him a raised brow, ready to lay into him. But not about the cougar. As much as it hurts, it’s none of my business anymore.
He frowns and asks, “What?” completely confused.
“Your cut, Logan? Where is it?” I demand.
Even shirtless, he always wore that leather, and I get it, at the hospital he can’t, which by the way, I am so goddamn proud of him for achieving, but at home?
“Well?” I push, and he sighs as he leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest.
“I gave it back,” he admits, and my eyes widen as I drop my arms. “Actually,” he adds, “I threw it on the clubhouse floor before you took my daughter to that shitty apartment….”
“Why?” I ask, ignoring the shitty apartment comment.
I’ve tried my hardest to keep her safe and happy. I don’t need him putting me down for that, even if I caused him hurt and pain, our daughter has always come first and I know he knows that otherwise he would have commented on the fact you can see my ribcage.
My comfort, food, clothes, my own happiness, my job, it has always been her put first.
He scoffs, “Really, buttercup? After what Mama threatened you? Causing you to run to begin with? Did you really think I was going to stay in that club?”
“Logan, she’s just an old lady, those are your brothers!” I growl, pissed that he would do this.
That fricking club is his life. As much as he wants to deny it, as much as he wants to tell himself he did it all for Doc, he lived and breathed that club—the brotherhood!
“And they sided with my mother when Doc told Dad to kick her out,” he says coldly, and I shake my head at the idiot.
“Because he didn’t give them a reason, I heard his call, Logan, he acted on emotion instead of demanding a meeting with all the brothers. She’s been in that club all your life,” I exasperate. “She’s been their friend, their family member. They probably only saw the sweet, kind woman she portrayed!”
“Why do you even care, Jas?” he asks with frustration, and I snap, “Because that club is your life!”
“You were my fucking life!” he shouts as he stands straight, pointing at me, and I jump back and look away from his heartbreak. “I was going to hand the cut in before you left, Jasmine,” he admits, and I suck in a breath as I squeeze my eyes tight.
"Why?" I question as I look his way, bracing myself for the anger that might flare in his eyes. My heart tightens with uncertainty as I add softly, “You have to have known I wouldn’t have let you give up your brotherhood, Logan.”
He gives me a ‘are you stupid’ look and chuckles, “You hated the club, Jas, you didn’t want me to claim you, fuck, you refused for my club to know about us, so how in the fuck could I have stayed?”
My mouth parts as I take a step back, and I shake my head.
"Logan, I knew my mother would try to destroy your club if I had taken your cut. It wasn't because I didn't want anything to do with the club, I was just trying to figure out a way to be able to be a part of it without Mama’s wrath. They are your family." I whisper.
“But you were my everything, Jasmine. I would have chosen you over them any day,” he says quietly, and I flinch, his words hitting me right in the chest, and the need to bawl becomes overwhelming.
