In some ways, I don’t even understand. I just know how things make me feel and nine times out of ten, anything to do with the club makes me uneasy. Whether it’s because of what happened when I was a teenager, the loss of my mom, or a bunch of things put together, it’s hard to tell. But I love Landon enough to be honest with him.
After we’ve eaten, we hang out and talk with everyone for a while, but I lean over to whisper in his ear around ten o’clock. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You ready?” He quickly turns.
“Yeah. I’m tired and we need to talk.”
“Okay.”
We say our goodbyes, get in his SUV, and he turns left onto the main road out of here.
Headquarters is a little off the beaten path, so there’s really only one road in and out. Once we get to Temecula, he’ll have options for which way to go. And he takes a different route every time.
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asks, staring straight ahead.
“No. I just need you to understand how my father operates.”
“Babe, he was being nice.”
“He was but my father is never nice without an ulterior motive.”
“What’s the ulterior motive with the bike?”
“I don’t know yet. But trust me, it exists.”
“Allora, I stay alive because of my gut and nothing about your dad sets off that tickle that tells me something is off. He’s bent over backwards to be accommodating to you, respecting your boundaries, even inviting me into the fold to an extent.”
“That’s just it—I don’t want you in the fold!” I say in frustration. “I want nothing to do with that life. I’ve explained this to you more than once. Why can’t you trust me on this the way I trust you with pretty much everything else?!”
“But when I asked that of you the other night, you didn’t answer.”
I knew that would come back to bite me.
And the silence in the SUV is deafening.
The road ahead of us is dark other than the reflection from the headlights.
There are no houses or stores, just a long stretch of two-lane highway that seems to reflect the bleakness of my mood.
“You want me to give back the bike?”
“It’s not about the bike!” I snap. “It’s everything. The way you were all buddy-buddy at the cookout. You and Metal making plans to work on the bike together. I need you to keep your distance. I’ve spent more time with my dad since the kidnapping than in the last five years total, but that’s not going to continue when this is over.”
“Let me get this straight. You can be friends with Layla, who’s connected to the club, but I can’t be friends with Metal.”
“No. Yes. Fuck, I don’t know. I just know that once you start spending time at the club, you get sucked in. And I can’t be with someone who’s part of that.”
He actually laughs, which pisses me off. “Honey, you can’t possibly think I’m going to join a motorcycle gang?”
“It’s a club,” I mutter, since that distinction has been burned into me since the day I was born.
“I’m not a biker, and I have no plans to be. I’m merely trying to have a relationship with your dad because I thought we were going to be together. If we’re not, then I have no reason to ever talk to him again beyond whatever he has going on with Daniil.”
“That’s another thing—why is there anything going on with Daniil? Other than me, there shouldn’t be any connection between them.”
“That’s above my pay grade.”
“You and Daniil are family. You’re considering buying into the company. Why would it be above your pay grade? You’re literally a part owner.”
