Page 5 of Jaded Soul

“Maybe, maybe not. I was hoping they’d track Zeke down and either arrest him or scare him enough to skip town. The weird thing is, I didn’t recognize these particular men. Never seen ‘em in my life. So what were they doing with the same leathers?”

“Did you get the name of the club? It was too blurred on our camera footage, but I can do a lot of digital digging if I just get a name,” Diesel says. He’s not only our best mechanic, Diesel also has the hacking skills of a CIA operative, I swear.

“Actually, yeah,” Domino replies. “Hell’s Scoundrels.”

“I’m surprised Zeke knows what a scoundrel is, let alone how to spell it,” I grunt.

“He doesn’t need to spell it to wear it on his back. He just needs to live up to the rep,” Diesel says.

“Scoundrel is far too good of a word for what that motherfucker is,” Domino growls. Diesel and I nod in agreement. Zeke used to be the Prez of Deviant Souls until he got the club all mixed up in drugs and all sorts of messy shit no one asked for. We thought he fled to Mexico, but he and his new gang keep showing up here.

"Let me work my magic with the information I have," Diesel says, bringing us back to the present moment. Lord knows the three of us could get caught up in bitterness and betrayal for hours if we let it seep in. But Domino wants us to move forward, and that's exactly what we're trying to do.

“Thanks,” Domino replies, giving a nod to Diesel. “Now, let’s go see your girl,” he says, turning to me and slapping me on the back.

“Whatever,” I grumble, though it’s half-hearted at best. I’m not subtle about how much time I’ve been spending at the diner lately. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why.

By the time Domino, Diesel, and I get to the diner, half the place is filled with our MC brothers. We must look a little intimidating, but the staff here knows we won’t start shit and we tip well.

The only table available isn’t in Rowan’s section, which pisses me the hell off. In fact, I don’t see her behind the counter or taking orders in her normal section. That shouldn’t make my blood pressure skyrocket or my hands clench into fists, but not seeing her here is definitely making me feel some kind of way. Agitated. Restless. Anxious, even. I’ve seen her every day since our eyes first locked, and now…

Domino nudges me on the shoulder and I look over at him. He tips his head toward the back of the diner, where Rowan is sitting at a table wrapping napkins around bundles of silverware. My feet take off in that direction, making Domino laugh. I don't give a fuck. I just need to see Rowan.

I stop short when I get within a few feet of where she’s sitting. I’m not sure how to approach her or what to say. I’ve never been great with my words, and apparently even less so with Rowan.Just be fuckin’ normal, I tell myself. Hi, hello, good to see you, how are you… so many ways to start a conversation.

Instead of using any of those ideas, I clear my throat and then choke on my own spit, sputtering out a cough and startling the beautiful, curvy goddess.

“It’s me,” I rasp, sounding like a swamp monster who hasn’t spoken in decades.

“Jett!” she exclaims, handing me the glass of water next to her on the table.

I take a few sips, trying not to get more flustered than I already am.Jesus, could I make myself look like any more of a fool?

“Here, sit, sit,” she says, scooting over and patting the seat next to her. I do as she says, glad for any excuse to be closer to the object of my obsession. “Are you okay?”

“Great,” I say with a wheeze. Fuck me sideways, this has to be the least suave interaction in all of human history.

"I can get you some more water if you need it," she offers, her violet eyes wide with concern. God, I want to hold her against me and kiss the worried look from her face.

“No,” I say, clearing my throat one last time. “I’m good. Sorry. I, um… I didn’t see you. But then… I did, over here. So I just, uh, wanted to say hi.” I finish off my rant by waving. Fucking waving my hand like a little kid.

If a bolt of lightning could please strike me at this very moment, I’d be forever grateful. What kind of incoherent idiot have I become?

I’m about to excuse myself and drive my bike off the nearest cliff, but then something incredible happens. Rowan laughs.

Her purple eyes glitter as she throws her head back and lets the laughter roll through her body. I don’t even care if she’s laughing at my expense. I’d make myself look like a fool for her all day, every day if it meant I got to hear her lighthearted laughter. I get the sense she hasn’t had a lot of joy in her life, especially lately.

I grin, admiring the beautiful woman sitting next to me. It’s taking an awful lot of willpower not to toss her over my shoulder, plop her on the back of my bike, and ride off into the sunset.

“Sorry,” she says once her laughter is mostly under control. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear.”

“I don’t mind,” I tell her, resting my arm on the back of her seat. “Anything to make you smile.”

Rowan’s features grow serious, those eyes locked on mine. She tilts her head to the side, her gaze turning speculative. “You mean that,” she says more to herself than to me. I nod. “Why?”

“Why do I want you to be happy?”

Rowan shrugs and nods before looking away from me as if my response will be too much for her to handle. I take a risk and reach for her hand under the table. When our fingers touch, she immediately intertwines our fingers and squeezes my hand.

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