Page 111 of Snared Rider

He glances back at me through the hatch as he reaches the table. I purposefully ignore Logan, who I can feel staring at me.

“Well, you can go back to bed after you sit with us a while. Little Bee. With all this drama going on I’ve barely seen you. I need my Beth time.”

And these words make me relent. Bloody hell. How can I refuse that? I’m not heartless nor am I soulless.

“Fine,” I grumble, pushing the kitchen door open. Hesitantly, I step into the dining room after him.

The temperature seems to drop a couple of degrees as I make my way to the table, careful to avoid eye contact with both Wade and Logan. I place my bowl in front of me and slip onto the empty bench next to Jem.

This is so awkward.

“How’re you finding being locked away, princess,” Jem asks as I blow the steam off the top of my coffee.

“I’m hardly locked away,” I scoff, even though I am.

Mischief dances in his eyes. “In that case, let’s do a mid-morning flit to The Lion.”

The Lion—or The Red Lion to give it its full name—is a pub in town. We used to drink there when we were coming of age. Mainly because it is not owned by the Club, so we could get in, but also because they didn’t care if you were underage. Jem, Dean and I went there a lot before we turned eighteen.

“She’s not going to The Lion,” Logan says, his voice firm as he reaches for his own half-drunk coffee.

“Who made you the boss?”

Logan shoots his younger brother a glare, then points to the patch on his chest. Jem takes one look at the Sergeant-at-Arms patch and taps his own. I don’t know how the officer system works in the Club, but I know Treasurer, which is Jem’s title, is lower than SAA.

“I’ve got one of those myself, brother.”

Logan scowls at him. “Have you forgotten there is a lunatic out there hunting her and Dean? She goes nowhere until he’s caught.”

Jem waves a hand. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. I wasn’t really planning on letting Little Bee loose in the world.” He leans on the table, his face inches from mine. “I don’t suppose you happen to know why my brother and Dean tried to rearrange each other’s faces, do you? I mean, they both look better for it, but I’m intrigued. Logan’s being as tight-lipped as a priest and Dean isn’t saying anything either. Since Dean and you are practically BFF’s I thought you might know.”

I’m sure the colour drains from my cheeks at his question and Jem’s eyes narrow on me.

“You know something,” he accuses, leaning even closer. “You do, don’t you?”

I hate that his question catches me off guard, even though it shouldn’t. I expected questions about the fact both men look like they took a hammering, but I didn’t expect to be asked directly. Really, I should have, since me, Wade and Clara were the only other people here when it happened.

“She doesn’t know shit, Jem,” Logan growls. “Leave her alone.”

Jem ignores Logan, leaning closer to me. He’s practically in my lap.

“Oh, come on, B, spill the beans,” Jem presses. “What the fuck do you know, woman?”

I glance at Logan. I’m tired of lying. It was lying that got us in this mess in the first place. If we’d been forthcoming about our relationship, I would never have left and I would not have spent the past decade avoiding home. Keeping this secret has chipped away at me, piece by piece, year by year. I’m done carrying it.

The truth will set you free.

“I slept with Logan, and Dean found out.” I give Jem a small smile. “He’s pissed off about it.”

Jem gawks at me, and I can see his mind working overtime. He’s trying to discern if I’m telling the truth or yanking his chain.

He clearly concludes I’m lying because he scoffs, “Yeah, of course you did.”

“She did.” Logan surprises me by admitting. I snap my head to him, but he’s focused on the cup in front of him.

The room goes silent and you can cut the tension in the air with a knife. Jem, unsurprisingly, is the one who breaks it.

“No fucking way. You two shagged? When? Are you still shagging?”

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