Page 116 of Jax

“Fuck,” I groaned, not needing another person angry at me.

“Not even if I was protecting his pregnant girlfriend from alcohol?” I tried my sweetest smile.

“Not even,” She shook her head as she reached over the counter for another beer. This one, she didn’t uncap and just left it to sit there, the condensation rolling down the side of the glass and collecting on the surface of the bar.

“I will trade you, however,” she said with the most pitiful frown on her lush red lips.

I glared at them; they were like a sweet rose with thorns. The lips of the devil herself.

But Wolf….

“What’s your offer?” I narrowed my eyes on her, my words cautious and thoughtful.

“I won’t tell Wolfif….” She smirked.

I wasn’t going to like this.

“…you tell me why you’re getting drunk so early in the morning?” She extended out a soft, small palm. “Deal?”

I groaned, looking at the chilled beer one the counter. “Doesn’t Wolf want his beer?”

“He can wait. He’s in my bad books for this anyway.” She pointed to her stomach.

There was no escape. “You can’t resist gossip, can you?”

I took her hand.

With a little too much excitement in her smile, she pulled her stool closer to mine, propping an elbow on the bar and resting her chin on her fist, awaiting the most interesting story of the year.

“Don’t get too excited.” I sighed.

* * *

It burned.

The hot flaming mark stinging across my cheek was like an iron whip as I stared, stunned at the wooden floor.

Everyone in the club was staring with wide, shocked eyes as the sound of the slap resonated throughout the room. Even a few of the brothers stood to attention, hands close to their weapons in reaction.

My eyes swelled with tears at the sharp pain, but I didn’t let them fall.

Fuck, I’d been hit by so many women before that I had thought my skin had turned to leather.

I swallowed the blood from my cheek before turning back to look at her. If I had thought the slap had hurt, it was nothing compared to the stone-cold expression on Anna’s face.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Anna hissed. “Not just you, but her as well.”

“We’re talking eight years ago—”

“I’m not talking about that,” Anna growled, her booted foot taking a loud, heavy step toward me.

I flinched.

“You should know well enough by now not to leave bad blood.” Anna shook her head, her face not one of anger but disappointment. It hurt more.

Anna’s shoulders dropped. “During times like this, don’t you know how important it is to say what you truly feel rather than getting pissed and leaving her behind like that? You let her walk out, in pain and in tears, and you just left her there.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” I argued, no longer caring that my business was being aired to the whole club. “We were both mad, and she wasn’t listening to anything I said.”

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