Page 35 of I Should Hate You-but I Don't

"That's scary." She pressed her hand to her forehead. "What kind of person would ruin the land and endanger lives? God, just think about the wild animals that are scared and running away from their homes, their families."

"It could be anyone, so stay in Gem Haven until the person is caught. Stay on the trails. If you're going to be somewhere different than your usual routine, let me know where you're at." He opened the door. "I need to go inform the others"

"Wait." She stepped forward. "I've been wondering. Have you heard from Kingsley?"

"Same message. He's following her," he said.

She sighed. "I wish I could talk to her. I don't know if she's running from Kingsley, me, or trying to outrun herself."

"Outrun herself?" Zane cocked his head and frowned. "Explain that to me."

She wasn't sure what she meant. Looking at the sketchbook and thinking about Kenna reminded her of all the times her sister believed something different from her. It'd been so many years since she'd seen her sister, and she couldn't be sure what she was thinking.

"I don't know if it'll help," she whispered.

"Hold that thought. Let me meet with the members, and afterward, I'll meet you at the bar for dinner." He looked at his phone. "Give me two hours."

She nodded.

He jogged to his Harley. She stood in the doorway, watching him go. He was tired. Taking care of the club had worn him down, yet he was still trying to help find Kenna.

Chapter Fifteen

Zane

––––––––

Big John stood at the end of the table in the office of Gem Haven Motorcycle Club clubhouse. His officers sat on the right side, and those with twenty years of seniority within the club stood at the back of the room. Zane waited to see if anyone had questions about the updates on the fire and then dismissed the meeting.

"Go ahead and talk with Big John. We'll take volunteers first before we assign anyone to the job." He stood and walked away from the table.

"Where's Kingsley?"

He turned around, scanning the crowd and spotted Smoker lifting his finger. "I sent him out on a different job."

"What job?" Smoker stepped forward.

"When I feel like everyone should know, then you'll know." He stood his ground. "Do you have a problem with how I run Gem Haven?"

Smoker backed down and shook his head. "No, Prez."

"If you're so interested in what the fuck goes on around here, I'd suggest being the first in line to volunteer for fire watch." He looked around, ready in case anyone else wanted to question him.

He wasn't in the fucking mood to have his actions questioned, especially by his officers.

Razz smacked him on the arm, holding his hand over the phone. "Call from prison."

Jesus Christ. What now?

He took the phone. "This is Zane Stafford."

"Mr. Stafford, this is a courtesy call regarding Ridge Stafford; you're the emergency contact in his folder. We're informing you he's in Inmate Medical Care with a laceration received during a fight with other inmates in the exercise yard. He'll be kept overnight and then put in solitary until his stitches are removed. At that time, he will reenter Block B. Do you have any questions?"

He turned his back to the men in the room and closed his eyes. "I have visitation approved for next Sunday. Can you tell me if that is still on?"

"Hold, please."

He gritted his teeth. There was no need to ask if his dad was okay. He was in medical care, not the morgue. He was more upset that this would probably fuck up his dad's parole hearing.

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