I glare at Highway to convey‘what do you want me to do now?’
He frowns, lips flattening before he leaves the area with a shake of his head.
Only the clink of Jenna’s spoon inside the mug fills the void between us.Goddamnit.
“It won’t feel so raw in a few days,” I offer. “Once the memories aren’t so fresh.”
She glances at me, eyes critical, and then resumes making her drink.
“You sure you didn’t get hurt?” The concern feels tight in my throat as I push the words from my mouth.
She retrieves creamer, adds a dash, and then returns the carton to the fridge.
Fuck this.I pick up Darko’s coffee and head off in search of the asshole.
“The crash isn’t the reason I can’t sleep, Fang.”
I stall near the dining table, a mug in each hand. I should say something back. She’s given me an open line to enquire what’s really on her mind, but the thought of getting deep with the woman has my stomach sour the little bit of drink that’s in there.Sounds like guilt talking, boy.Shoulders rising with a deep breath, I close my eyes briefly and stiffen my jaw before uttering, “Yeah?”
Fuck my life.
“Why do you think I’d do something like that?”
Why do I think she’d do—“Because you’re the fucking enemy, Freckles.” Back still toward her, I temper my breathing. “No matter what’s gone down between us, that doesn’t change, does it?”
“Because of who my father is?” she asks, voice dripping with derision. “Or because of the things I’ve done?”
“Because of your father,” I confirm. “Yeah.” If I made her the enemy for what she’s done, I’d be a hypocrite.
“Even though I didn’t grow up associated with the club in any way?”
“Your blood associates you.” I ditch Darko’s coffee on the table. Fucker can get it himself; I’m not his fucking maid. “Your lineage associates you.” I turn around. “The fucking womb you spawned from associates you. No matter what you do, your name will associate you.”
“Guilty by association and association alone.” She nods stiffly.
“Don’t fucking make out it doesn’t matter.” I gesture toward her with my coffee. “You fucking killed a woman based solely on that club allegiance.”
“No, I didn’t!” She straightens from where she’d been leaning against the counter. “I killed because I knew if I didn’t,I’dbe one motionless on the floor. It didn’t mean shit who her father is—was—or what club he belongs to. Doesn’t matter shit about my father’s club. It mattered because she was ready to use me to save herself.”
She’s right. And I fucking know it. But the part of me conditioned to black and white, us versus them, Kings of Anarchy and everyone else, can’t let it go. Can’t separate her from her father’s patch.
Even if it means watching a woman I care about get torn apart by my ignorance.
“Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same,” she demands, eyes narrowing. “Tell me you haven’t already.”
I set my cup down slowly on the end of the counter, gaze fixed on my hand. She fucking has me, and she knows it. My resistance to her runs deeper, and what scares me most is the sense that she knows better than I do why.
“Why the fuck would I arrange something like that and then sit there and goddamn pull glass out of your daughter’s arm if all I wanted was to harm you?” she presses, moving closer.
I lift my head.She what?Why didn’t I know that?
“Why would I do something like that if this is the only safe place I have right now, as unwelcome as it is?”
I lock my eyes on hers, finding all the honesty and conviction her tone implies.
“Do you have any idea how fucking messed up that is? That the one place I feel most secure is in the house of people who don’t trust me?” She shakes her head with a little huff. “That’swhy I can’t sleep, Fang. Not because of what happened tonight, but because I feel so fucking alone it honest to God terrifies the shit out of me to be so isolated, all because ofwho my father is,” she mocks, tears building in her eyes.
I take a step toward her, open my mouth to say something—fucked if I know what—and have her recoil.
