She glances at me and frowns.
“Not everything I’ve said is a lie, Xia.”
“Huh.”
“Don’t do that.” I bark.
“Do what?” Her emotionless tone hurts me more than any anger ever could.
“Treat me like I’m a con man.”
“Kinda are, but all right.”
Sinking deeper into my seat, I close my eyes against a receding headache and her chilly reception. This is on me. I kept my secrets for too long, like a coward. My fear of losing her may have caused the very thing I tried to so damn hard to avoid.
I rest my head against the window, grateful for the coolness. Things have imploded swiftly. The wrongness between us drives home how right we usually feel.
“I hate this, Xi. It’s not us.”
“It wasn’t. Now I don’t know where we stand.” She sighs. “I thought we agreed to let this go for now.”
“Kind of hard to ignore the elephant in the room.”
“I think we can manage it. I’ll give you this … when you said your family was unique you were not exaggerating at all.”
I laugh. “Yeah, but that’s my normal. It’s basically growing up with a bunch of bachelors. For me, your family dynamic is the fascinating one. Two-family homes are rare for us.”
“Why?” I can hear the assumptions in her voice.
“’Cause just like the military lifestyle, the job always comes first. That’s a hard thing for anyone to deal with.”
“What are bikers doing on food trucks?” she asks suspiciously.
“Learning to open up their own, as we said.”
“If it’s legit, why lie about it?”
“We wanted to keep a low profile. You can’t say you would’ve treated me the same if you knew the truth. On a more personal note, I needed the space.”
“Because of your father?” she whispers.
“Yeah. It really messed with my head. I went away and became a Nomad. That’s basically a traveling member. We have chapters in different cities.”
“And you can just move from place to place?”
“If you’re a Nomad, yes. Otherwise, there’s voting involved.”
“Wow. That’s far more organized than I ever would’ve imagined.”
“People get the wrong idea about us. If it was total chaos, the clubs would fold, and we’d be in the media constantly. We like our chaos controlled, and our lives extremely private.”
“Huh. Makes sense. How are you feeling?”
“Sore and groggy,” I answer honestly.
“No nausea or a headache?”
“A dull headache, no nausea,” I say.