A huff escapes my nostrils. “No. That’s everything. Like I said before.”
Ignoring the bite in my voice, he turns to Jack. “Have Preacher’s PI look into this Allen prick. I’ll deal with Decker.”
I raise a brow. “Deal with him how?”
“Club business is on a need-to-know, Grace.” Axe’s eyes glint and a wicked smile curves his lips. It’s the promise of violence.
They’re all the same, these men. It’s all blades, fists, and blood. Like Jack said, the Sinners need torespond.That means someone’s about to wind up bruised, bloody, or dead. For Decker’s sake, I hope it’s not the latter.
Jack pulls out his phone and pushes up, eyes still not meeting mine. “Hang tight, Gracie. Got some quick business, and then I’ll have Triss drive you to our place.”
Once Jack disappears into the stairwell and it’s just me and Axe, I glare at him.
With a roll of his eyes, he snags a bottle of whiskey from a neighbouring table and splashes a couple ounces into the empty glass beside me.
“Easy, Gracie,” he says as he pushes it towards me. “Business is done.”
“Not going soft on me, are you?”
“Never.” He clinks his glass against mine.
We both drink, and as he pours me another, he eyes my cheek.
“You all right?”
I force a smile. “You let ’em rattle you, you let ’em win.”
Axe hums. “He know you’re here?”
Jimmy had one rule for me when we left this place—no going back. Not to the life, and definitely not to South Bay. I’ve managed to do both those things.
Coming back home is one thing. Jimmy would forgive that. But all the other shit I’ve done these last couple years, the trouble I’m in, the people I’m running from? He finds out what I’ve been up to, and I’ll be dead to him. He might’ve left the Sinner life behind, but the doctrine he lived by is carved into his bones. Loyalty to the patch. Jack and Axe are the same.
I arch an eyebrow. “What do you think?”
He stares into his glass, then brings it to his lips. “He won’t be happy.”
“You gonna tell him?”
He shrugs. “Not my place to stir shit up between you and him. But he’ll find out, one way or another. He had a knack for that—knowing shit you didn’t want him to know.”
We’re quiet for a beat as he pours more whiskey into my glass. More than necessary, but I drink it anyway.
“So? You gonna tell me how you been living your life?” he asks.
I swirl the amber liquid, my lips twitching. “More questions?”
“It’s called a conversation, Grace.”
I sigh. Right. “I’ve been… you know… hopping from place to place, I guess. Calgary’s interesting. Big. It’s been an adjustment.”
“Calgary,” he repeats. “Surprised Jimmy cleared that.”
“I’m twenty-six years old, Axe. Jimmy doesn’tclearanything. I tell him how it is.”
Axe gives me a reproachful look. “If that’s the case, then the man you’re talking about ain’t my father. No one’stellingJimmy Donovan anything. It’s not safe out there for someone like you.”
Not safe.The understatement of the century.
