Page 56 of Jacob

“When’s the next one?”

She lifted a shoulder. Sucking in both her lips, she pressed her teeth down onto them, trying to hold back tears. All she’d wanted from her mother, from Pipes, from anyone was support. She wanted them to be half as interested in her going back to school as Jacob.

“Don’t cry for him.” The edge in his words struck her.

Drying the little bit of wetness which deigned to fall from her eyes with a swipe of a finger, she peered at him. The denial lingered on the tip of her tongue unsaid.

“He’s a fuck-up that doesn’t deserve you.” The venom dripped from his words and shot from his eyes. The sight of it had her fighting the urge to recoil from him. “Come to Montana with me.”

She almost fell off the chair.

His hands took hold of her arms. Did he know he’d knocked her off balance with words? Unlike earlier, his grip was tender and she doubted he’d leave bruises on her this time. “This club is fucking shit. How they haven’t been raided is a goddamn miracle.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, her loyalty flared, rearing its head like a lioness. Hadn’t been raided? Her vision tinged the same color as the blood that had flowed from her father as he bled out the day he died when the club house was raided. “Fuck you.” Swatting at his hands, they fell off her arms as she pushed her chair back and stood to glare down at him. “Don’t pretend like you know anything about me.” She planted her hands on her hips. “We were kids and now we’re not. It was a crush and it’s out ofmysystem.” She couldn’t contain the rage. “I was born to a Roughneck and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let any Montana trash talk shit about my father’s club.”

His nostrils flared. His eye twitched. When he stood up, his chair clattered on the floor, upended behind him. The sound echoed through the empty café. “Out of your system?” he repeated with a smile that was anything but amused. “I gave you fucking lollipops.” She stepped back and he advanced. “I sang you a goddamn song.” Two more steps back. He kept moving forward. “I fucked you on the back of your car in front ofhisdamn clubhouse,” he whispered as her back hit the wall of the café. “It’s not out of my system.”

Her breath hitched as he took up all the space in the room—in the hospital. She couldn’t breathe. He’d done more for her in the week he’d been in Ohio than Pipes had done for her through their entire relationship.

Then again, she’d seen him with the brunette at the bar right after he’d sang to her. The same night they’d fucked in the parking lot. He thought her nothing more than a club slut. Did he think she would just jump in her car and follow him across the country?

Fuck that.

If her lot in life was to just be club property, she’d at least be the property of the club her father had once belonged to. And he wasn’t a Roughneck Rider. She wasn’t going to Montana. Pipes was fighting for his goddamn life three floors above her. What the hell was wrong with her?

Taking a deep breath, she planted her hands on his chest and shoved. “We all make mistakes.”

“The fuck?”

“You did all those things and what?” she asked rhetorically, slipping away from him. “I owe you more rides?” She arched her brow. “I’m not property of Odin’s Fury. It doesn’t work that way. I’m staying here.”

His brows furrowed. “Property?”

“Take your ugly ass brunette bitch to Montana,Romeo,” she sniped before turning on her heel and storming off.

Fuck him and his club.

Chapter 32

Jacob

When his fist collided with the wall, he’d expected some give. Jacob had punched plenty of walls. They made excellent targets since they didn’t relent. However, this one didn’t move. Instead of going through drywall and having the satisfaction of seeing a hole, pain vibrated through his hand and up his arm. His wrist buckled and rolled. He may have even heard a pop.

“Motherfucker,” he growled as he shook his hand.

Examining the already swelling knuckles, he regretted the decision immediately. Everything about Ohio meant regret and bad choices.

“Problem, buddy?” the security guard, in his cheap polyester uniform, asked as he tucked his thumbs into his belt.

Jacob narrowed his eyes, cradling his hand against his chest. “Fuck you.”

“Excuse me, asshole?”

She’d handed him his ass. He didn’t need shit from a dickhead who couldn’t cut it as a cop. Rubbing his good fingers over his sore knuckles, he shook his head. He needed to leave this hospital, this town, and this fucking state. It was a shithole and he hoped it burned to the ground.

Fool him once, shame on her. Fool him twice—he was a goddamn fucking idiot. Jacob didn’t like that label one damn bit. She’d played him like a damn fiddle and he’d let her. He’d let some stupid childhood crush blind him. He was done. She could go down in flames with the Ohio inferno for all he cared.

Exiting the hospital, he glanced down at his inflamed hand and tried to flex his fingers, assessing the damage he’d done. Riding with a broken hand—impossible. He’d never be able to grip and give the bike gas.

---