Matt steps forward immediately, putting himself between me and the door. “Hold on.”
“I haven’t been there in years,” she says, panic creeping into her voice, making it high and thin. “I don’t know if I can?—”
“Jax—” Matt starts.
I tighten my grip, feeling her bones strain under the pressure. “If something happens to Sisk because you hesitated, I swear, Viper, I will peel your skin from your bones while you’re still breathing.”
“She didn’t hesitate,” Matt snaps, his voice full of a courage I don’t give a shit about. “Let’s go.”
I yank Viper toward the door. “She’s coming with me.”
Matt steps toward us.
“You want to come,” I tell him without looking back, my voice dripping with contempt, “then you keep up.”
Seventy-Four
THEN | SISK
“Hey, friend,” Jax says with a grin.
I pretend to change my mind and try to turn around and walk away.
Jax grabs my wrist before I make it three steps. “Where are you going?”
“This isn’t gonna work.” I tell him, trying to tug my arm free.
“What isn’t?”
“Us. As friends.”
He huffs a laugh like the whole thing is the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “Why not?”
“Well for starters,” I say, pointing at his face, “wipe that smirk off. It’s the opposite of friendly.”
He instantly forces his mouth into a painfully serious line, but his eyes are still laughing. “Better?”
“Why are you so fucking happy?” I narrow my eyes. “Oh, right. You got laid. Congrats. Hope it was good for you.”
“Can’t I just be in a good mood? Full moon’s over.”
I reach his bike and swing my leg over the side of the seat. “So where are we going, friend? Your good moods usually mean I’m about to regret my life choices.”
“You’ll see.”
He digs into his back pocket and pulls out a strip of black fabric. “Actually… you won’t. Not yet. Put this on.”
I stare at it. “A blindfold? That’s your idea of friendship?”
“Come on,” he says, stepping closer. “Trust me.”
Unfortunately for my heart’s sake, there’s nobody I trust more than him.And that’s the problem.
He lifts the fabric and his hands move slowly toward my face. I pretend to bite his fingers when they pass near my mouth.
He stops, his face suddenly inches from mine. His eyes move to my lips. “Careful,” he whispers. “I bite back.” His breath brushes my cheek as he ties the fabric behind my head, his knuckles brushing the nape of my neck and a shiver runs down my spine.
“There, perfect.”
