Page 67 of Break Out

Some twisted part of me found her attitude refreshing. “I’m not getting at anything, Simone. Just seems that you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

She glanced to the side for a beat, then back to me. “It’s not my favorite, but I know it needs to be done and the quicker we start the sooner we finish.” Her eyes darted to the salads and back to mine. “Do you eat salad or can we skip the obligatory rabbit food?”

I choked on my laughter. “Obligatory?”

“Salads are supposed to be good for you, but I can’t stand them.”

“That’s a first,” I muttered without thinking.

Her head tilted. “What’s a first?”

I sighed. “Most women love salads. You might be the first one to admit to hating them.”

She grinned. “Mom loves them enough for me, my brother Bobby, and fifty other people over fifty.”

I felt a sneer hit my lips and my head twisted. “Your mom isn’t fifty.”

Her eyes widened. “Yeah, even more reason for her to lay off the green stuff.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re hangry, but… I saw how many shrimp you put away during dinner. So, what’s the story, Jade?”

“You dodged whether you’re going to stick around. But more than that, you dodged whether you care or not. I suppose the latter will become clear soon enough, but going it alone… that’s something I’d like to know sooner rather than later. And somehow, I think you know if you’re going to bail on me for Augusta and your club.”

Damn, she did not mince words. I loved that about her. I hated the idea of leaving her to go it alone.

I grabbed hold of the cart handle and pushed it around the corner to the next aisle. “I’m not certain what the future holds, but if my club needs me, then I’m gonna have to hit the road. Like this weekend, though you’re coming along.”

“A tag-along,” she muttered.

“Didn’t say it like that,” I muttered.

She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is.” She grabbed a small jar of green olives and looked to me. “Do you eat olives?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Not usually, but if you want ‘em, get ‘em.”

She put the jar in the cart and moved to take control, but I held firm to the handle.

“You cool now?” I asked.

Her brown eyes gleamed in the florescent lights. “I will be.”

I nodded and let go of the handle. “Good.”

We faced forward and saw two bearded men walking our way. They both wore leather cuts with the Corrupt Chrome logo dominating the left side. As they came closer I saw one had the road name ‘Scar,’ and the other went by ‘Pump.’

“They’re not from here,” Simone muttered.

“Be quiet, and let me handle this,” I whispered.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Scar said, propping his foot on the bottom rail of the shopping cart. He stood an inch shorter than me, but it appeared he had at least twenty pounds on me. Probably fat, but I didn’t want this to get physical with Simone next to me. His hazel eyes bored into mine, and I wondered if he even knew anyone else was around.

Pump, however, had his eyes locked on Simone, practically salivating the way he licked his lips. “Who’s your friend, Steel? She a secret daughter you been hiding?”

Simone opened her mouth, and using my index finger I gave a subtle tug on her belt loop.

My gaze never left Scar and through clenched teeth, I asked, “What do you want?”

After a long, loaded moment, Scar’s eyes shifted to Simone and back to me. “Knuckles asked you for a sit-down before Bike Week, you too good to respond?”

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