Page 10 of Where We Promise

It was about a week ago that I first really noticed it. The first few times I assumed were in my head, but after the last time, I was positive. Jameson seemed affected…nearly bothered when Luke would simper for my attention.

Which had me wondering if I had been reduced to some game that Luke had decided to play against poor Jamie. Luke did whatever he could to tease his pseudo brother, to the point of cruel jokes and doing whatever he could to force Jamie to anger. Until the two were rolling around on the floor, throwing punches.

The two were most certainly not friends, I’d discovered. Jameson liked nature, watching the stars and reading. Luke liked video games, television, shadowing the prospects in the club and smoking. When forced to interact, the two seemed civil, but certainly not friendly.

Which made my position in their lives and the club confusing.

“What’s up, ladies?” a new voice cut through the mayhem nearing Jameson’s table.

My gaze slid up from my pathetic lunch and landed back on the table in the center of the room. Why had Jameson even picked that seat? He had to have known this would cause all sorts of trouble. While Jameson King didn’t seem to absorb any of the attention he received, or even like it, the school was seemingly obsessed with him.

The club notoriety alone had him pegged as an unattainable bad boy, but even the upper-class students seemed to give him a wide berth, along with all the attention a celebrity would have.

Luke was now leaning across the table, getting into Stacy’s space. He pushed his finger through her rice pudding then brought his finger up to his mouth all while he watched her expression. If Jameson was some sort of celebrity, then Luke was the famous best friend people became star struck just by mere proximity.

None of that had rubbed off on me as someone who was frequently seen with the two.

Well, only if we were on our way home.

In school, they both seemed to ignore me unless no one else was around, or if a guy was paying too much attention to me.

I watched as Luke smiled and flirted with the girls, until they began to bicker with one another. Gemma made a snide comment to Stacy, and then Stacy responded by throwing her drink in Gemma’s face. They were standing on either side of Jameson now, screaming at each other.

The kids in the surrounding area began yelling, shoving out of their chairs, egging on a cat fight. Jameson slid from his seat and began walking away from the table. Luke kept his focus on the fighting girls, and no one seemed to see Jameson leave.

I tossed my pizza and followed Jameson through the halls, watching as he tucked the book into the back of his jeans. He glanced around once, and I ducked behind a group of lockers. The crowd was still going wild in the cafeteria, which had emptied the halls. I watched as he pulled out a slim metal object from the opposite side of his back pocket, nearly imperceptible.

With one last look around, he slid the metal object in through a random locker until it popped open. Then he bent down as if he was going to tie his shoe and pulled a bag of weed that was taped to his ankle and tossed it inside the locker.

I stepped from my hiding place, showing Jamie I’d caught him red-handed. “That’s Rowan McNeal’s locker, isn’t it?”

Jameson didn’t even look behind him as he slipped the metal file back into his pocket.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

I crossed my arms. “Captain of the football team. Why are you planting weed in his locker?”

Jameson moved, walking away from the area, but I followed him.

“Did he do something to piss you off?”

My question nearly died on my tongue as I was suddenly pulled into a dark, empty classroom.

Jameson was barely an inch from my face. “You’re not stupid, Pen. You live in a motorcycle club. By now you’re aware of the fact that ours isn’t one that exactly follows all the laws.”

I nodded as heat began to wrap around my midsection, tying knots around my stomach.

Jameson searched my face and dropped his voice.

“Luke and me…we’re already patched, which means we work for the club. When someone gives us a job, we do it.”

I felt my face twist as confusion set in.

“What sort of job would be required of you at fourteen?”

Jameson’s hand landed near my head, which brought our bodies closer.

“The kind where bets are being made on the Richland Arrows winning the homecoming game. If McNeal is suspended for possession then he won’t play in the game.”

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