“I am.”
“Good. I’ll be at football practice.” Coach Yancy accepted his physical from the beginning of the school year, but he still wanted to put CJ through his paces. “We’ll go shopping for everything, then we can go to your place and start working on it.”
“Why my place?” she asked nervously. “I’d love to see your home library.”
“Some other time. Your place because it’s mainly your project. I already have a partner.” That he wanted to win first place. On the other hand, Molly wouldn’t want for anything ever again. She was part of their family, so her expenses would be paid. “Tonight, your place,” he amended. “We’ll see how far we get.”
“I’d like that.”
He smiled at her.
She lowered her lashes and licked her lips, drawing attention to her mouth. “I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting.”
He owed her his assistance for his science project, since Billson told him to help her. But that was it, so he didn’t respond. He still didn’t trust her sudden about-face.
“I’m trying to be however you want me to be.”
Recoiling at the Jana vibes, he lifted a brow at her. “I don’t like phonies and refuse to waste my time on a girl who bends her will to my specifications. I want the real you or nothing at all.”
“But—”
“Nobuts, Skye.”
“Jaleena likes you a lot. She said you’re a really good kisser—”
He glowered at her. “I also don’t like gossips,” he snapped.
Swallowing, she nodded. “You’re a man of mystery. You’re a legend.”
The idea thathewas a legend startled him. He curved his mouth into a slow smile and shook his head. “That would be my dad.”
“A biker, right? The president of the Death Dwellers?” she asked, the hesitation in her voice matching the discomfort on her pretty face.
Irritation surged into him and he heaved in a breath. “My friends, girlor guy, don’t ask fucking questions. Whatever they see or know, they shut the fuck up about.”
“Okay. And, um, your dad’s a legend in his world. You’re one here. Everyone knows you, whether or not you know them.”
Before he found the words to respond to Skye, Ryan walked up to the table.
“CJ?”
CJ stiffened. As much as he tried, he couldn’t let go of his anger toward his cousin. No matter what Rebel said about forgiving that motherfucker and moving on, Ryan was part of the reason she was so upset. The idea that Rory and Devon knew and kept that shit to themselves for no motherfucking reason whatsoever.
At least Ryan was trying to undo his fuckery. Those other two were just fuckbags.
Reminding himself that Ryan used Rebel, Mattie, and Harley to help Molly compelled CJ to answer. “What, fuckhead?”
“I need your help with something.”
Those fuckheads tapped Ryan to help find their fucking clothes and Ryan expected CJ to help? Fuck all of them. Let them suffer the same humiliation as his little sister. Resisting a smirk, he pretended ignorance. “Whatever it is I’m not fucking interested in helping.
“It isn’t for me.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he rocked on his feet. “Rory and, uh,Devon…they—”
Fury swirled in CJ. He barely contained his need to punch Ryan in his fucking face, but he was already battered and bruised. No one could kill that fuckhead, so beating him to death was out.
“Why the fuck should I help you?” he snarled, remembering his little sister’s sobs as she explained what happened, Harley’s bruises and trauma, and Grant carrying Mattie after she’d been attacked. All because of a trio of motherfuckers. “I have to suffer you for Aunt Zoann. Leave it at that and move on.”
Ignoring him, Ryan leaned close to his ear. “I think Ryder and Ransom stole Devon and Rory’s clothes. If you can just ask your brothers where they put them, they can dress.”
