Now that catches my attention.
Big John is the President of the Devils Incarnates. The Twins and Jade’s father.
“You think he’s dirty?” I ask carefully.
“I think everybody’s dirty.” Flynn smiles. “Question is who they’re dirty for.”
Fair point.
Still… something about this whole Jade situation bothers me.
Why does Flynn care who she hangs around with? He's the head of the Irish Army. Men like him don’t obsess over random biker girls without reason.
So I make the mistake of asking.
“What’s the deal with Jade anyway?”
The temperature inside the SUV drops instantly.
Flynn’s pale eyes slide towards me slowly.
“Mind your own business, lad.”
Message received.
The meeting ends shortly after that, and Flynn drops me back near the Dungeon, but instead of heading inside, I climb onto my bike and ride.
No destination. Just movement.
Sometimes the only thing keeping my head quiet is speed.
The road blurs beneath me while cold wind tears through my hoodie. Eventually, muscle memory takes over without me realizing it.
And suddenly, I’m heading toward the old clearing in the woods.
Our spot. Mine and Firefly’s.
I haven’t been here in years. Not since before prison.
The second I kill the engine near the treeline, memories slam into me. Ophelia laughing barefoot in the grass. Her laying on my chest staring at stars. The first time she whispered I love you like it scared her.
I shove my hand in my back pocket and take out my phone and the paper burning a hole in my jeans.
I unlock my phone and store her contact info. Then I open the camera up and take a picture of the stars above me and shoot her a text.
She will know it's me immediately.
I head down the trail as dry leaves crunch beneath my boots while the moonlight filters through the trees overhead.
Then I hear her laugh, and my heart stops.
No.
I move faster toward the clearing and there she is.
Sitting on the hood of fucking Brayden Augustine’s expensive Mercedes like she belongs there.
Giggling.
