“Dante, you forgot to do this part. You had it right until the very end. Look at my paper, then compare it to yours.” I kept my composure.
“If Mom were here, she would have had it already,” was his response. He wasn’t wrong; Sienna was a mathematician, but so am I.
“You’re not wrong.” I winked; he glowered. That was the end of that. I left him to finish his math. I’m not willing to give up on Dante. Not only would I be letting Sienna down, but I’d be letting him down as well. Plus, my parents are in their seventies, after having their children later in life. Sienna was thirty-three when she lost her life. I’m now closing in at forty in the next few months, so I understand why they took time to themselves before Papa took over from his own father.
A door closing pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up and see the woman I know Lorenzo is responsible for hurting. “Fuck.” I dip my head low, attempting to stay out of sight. It was weeks without a word, when I figured motorcycles would come blazing up to my house, guns at the ready, shooting anything that came in their way after we dropped Sailor off at the hospital when I realized just what Lorenzo did.
“Do I know you?” Just when I think I’ve gotten away a second time, she asks the question of the fucking century.
“No, not that I’m aware of,” I respond. Thankfully, Sailor is by herself, Henley’s brother nowhere in sight.
“Huh, that’s weird. I feel like I’ve seen you before. Maybe you just have one of those faces. Anyways, enjoy your night.”
“Must be. You, too.” She walks away. I wait with my head down, counting to ten, taking a deep breath before opening my door to the car. If Lorenzo were alive right now, I’d deliver him to Diamondback with a note stapled to his forehead. Fuck, in all fairness, I probably should have thought about that before sending him back home to Italy. If Sailor puts the pieces together, this thing between me and Henley will be over before it’s even started.
I slide into the driver’s seat, the steering wheel taking the brunt of my anger as I squeeze it as hard as I can, the emotion bubbling over, something I don’t ever let get away from me, knowing damn well that once it does, the whole fucking family will feel my wrath.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The words spill out. My resolve is crumbling, the need to use my fists on someone or something too damn strong, and I know tonight will be one of those when I won’t be getting any sleep until this storm inside me has passed.
CHAPTER 13
HENLEY
“You think this will work okay? It’s not too cheesy, is it?” Mom asks as we go over the games, the food, and the lack of Sailor’s registry. We all know she loves a vintage style, so instead of going overboard with the decorations, we kept it simple, instead bringing in things they can use as décor in the baby’s room, even if we still don’t know the gender. I swear if those two don’t get their asses to the doctor and get an ultrasound, Mom is going to have a coronary.
“Mom, it’s perfect. They didn’t even ask or expect it. If it were Jackson’s and Sailor’s choice, they’d have bought everything.” I roll my eyes.
“Don’t you even start, Henley Marie. Your father told me just how obstinate you were at the car dealership. It’s our own fault. We raised two children who are entirely too independent.” Mom sounds annoyed. I know that’s not the case, though. It’s just hard for her to admit, both of them, really.
“Yeah, well, that money you two put away for us should be for you and Dad. I know you guys are fine financially. The club has been good to all the brothers, but spend that on yourselves.”
“Henley Marie, we have some talking to do!” Sailor walks into the house, her bag swinging from her shoulder.
“What did I do now?” I love Sailor and Lavender to the ends of this earth, but, boy, does the drama seem to follow my brother’s woman.
“Come on, we need to go talk to the brothers. This has everything to do with what happened to me. My memory is coming back, and the guy I remember, well, let’s just say he was at our apartment complex last night.” My gaze locks with Sailor’s. She’s as white as a ghost. She may have come in looking at ease and without a care in the world, but clearly, she’s shaken.
“Honey, I’m thinking Sailor needs Jackson. You call your brother. I’ll call your father to let him know we’re heading to the clubhouse, okay?” I do as she asks, moving from my place at the kitchen table, where we were having a snack and talking all things baby, to my phone. I left by the front door along with my keys, choosing not to bring my purse inside the house. There’s no sense when you’re on club property and the gates are closed with a brother or prospect out there making sure you’re allowed in or not.