Page 86 of The Marriage Mistake

I took a deep breath. “Let’s eat, and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Jack tried to forbid me from coming with him to go talk to Cash. We argued. I won—but he wasn’t happy about it. He simmered as we piled into three big SUVs and drove away from his house, his hands clenching and releasing on the wheel. After dropping Darby, Gideon, and Bennett off at the Marswood Security building (I assumed Knox being built like a barn nominated him as our backup, so he stayed), we headed for Rock Bottom, the Reapers’ headquarters.

As we pulled into the parking lot and approached the long row of motorcycles parked in front of the building, my stomach tightened. What was I doing? This wasn’t like me. I didn’t go confront outlaw biker gangs in order to extract information about a local committing a crime spree.

The building was dark, and I thought about telling Jack to take me back to his company’s headquarters with the rest of our crew.

And then what? Sit on my hands? Overthink myself to an early grave?

Maybe the image I had of myself as a careful, risk-averse, boring person wasn’t exactly accurate. I’d come to Marswood Harbor, hadn’t I? That had taken some guts. I’d hatched this plan to marry Jack and get my inheritance. Yes, things hadn’t gone how I’d expected, but I’d still done something. I’d acted.

And the result was meeting Jack. Falling for him. Seeing a future for myself that was unlike anything I could have ever conceived of before. One with fulfillment and community and family and love.

So maybe I could do this too. I could walk into Rock Bottom, talk to the scary biker, get the information we needed, and help my husband catch the bad guy.

“Ready?” Jack asked.

I nodded.

Knox shifted in the back seat, leaning forward. He speared me with his gaze. “Let us do the talking.”

My belly was a mass of nerves. I wasn’t sure I’d even be able to make words once we got in there, so that was fine by me. We got out of the SUV and walked toward the front door. The bar’s neon sign flickered above us as a cold gust of wind nearly knocked me sideways. Jack reached for the door handle and yanked it open. Suddenly, I needed the bathroom. I was way too anxious for this right now.

I pushed the feeling aside and walked in behind Jack, Knox taking up the rear. We entered into a dim space that smelled of stale beer and sweat. A long bar lined one wall, illuminated by a few dangling pendant lights. Behind it, an old man stood wiping glasses. He straightened as we entered, leaning big paws on the edge of the bar as he stared. Very intimidating.

At the back of the room, a pool table gleamed green under more pendant lights. The rest of the bar was dominated by half a dozen booths lining the opposite wall to the bar, and tables and chairs filling the rest of the space.

In the corner booth to my right, two men sat nursing brown bottles of beer. They turned to watch us enter, and one of them leaned back in his seat, arching a brow. He had dark hair and dense stubble that hugged his strong jaw. The man across from him was older, with graying hair and a long, rangy body. He slid out of the booth and stood to face us. I suppressed a shiver and asked myself, once again, what the hell I was doing here.

Jack turned toward them. He walked with the loose, easy gait of a man who was ready for a fight. I walked with the waddle of a woman who was afraid to poop her pants out of terror.

“Cash,” Jack greeted the seated man, ignoring the other altogether.

“Mars,” Cash replied, and his eyes slid to me. They were very green. “You brought your wife. How nice.” He smiled, and there was a glint in his gaze.

Jack ignored that comment and said, “One of your men threw a brick through my living room window this morning.”

There was a subtle tightening of the skin around Cash’s eyes. “How do you know he was one of mine?”

“He was wearing his cut,” Jack replied, jerking his chin at the standing man’s leather vest.

Cash swore and shook his head. “These fuckin’ idiots,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. A gold signet ring glinted on his pinky finger.

“This wasn’t a sanctioned club activity, I’m guessing,” Jack answered.

“No.” Cash ground his jaw. “We have a truce.”

“I need to know who it was.”

Cash barked a laugh. “No.”

“Someone threw a brick through my window, Cash,” Jack said darkly. He leaned his fists on the table and loomed over the other man. “My wife and child were in the house.”

I shivered at the threat in his tone, but Cash just blinked and shrugged. “Not my problem.”

Jack’s shoulders hiked, and I decided that was my cue. The last thing we needed was an overprotective Jack starting a fight in here. Knox was big, but we were on their turf and I was no use in a brawl. I sidestepped out from behind Jack and said, “I think it is your problem, actually.”

Cash blinked his gaze over to me. He arched a brow, an amused smile curling his lips, looking like I was a small child who’d done something cute. “Oh yeah?”