“Are you okay—what are you doing here?” he says as he stalks up to Mel. He asks both so quickly, and so irately, I see the stunned look on Mel’s face as she wavers about answering either.
His hands latch on to her shoulders, and a blaze rockets through my chest. I’m on my feet before she can respond. “She’s fine. Was helping me get bandaged up.”
The guy’s gaze snaps to me, his dark eyes looking me over before they settle on my face. “I wasn’t asking you.”
I pull my shoulders back. “Well, I’m answering.”
“Hey,” Mel interrupts. “Both of you put your pricks away. Chill.” She stands between us, hands up, and turns toward the guy. “I know him. He’s a friend…sort of.”
“You know him? From where?”
I really don’t like how this guy is talking to her. Like a possessive older brother. Or a possessive shithead boyfriend. And I don’t like that she feels she has to answer for herself. Who is this douchebag? The hand not holding Mel’s phone balls into a fist.
“What does it matter, Jesse? Damn.” Mel reaches over to me and takes her phone, and I watch Jesse’s gaze closely follow her movements. His mouth hardens into a thin line.
“Take care of yourself,” she says to me. “Try not to lose too much blood next time.” She winks, and that one action deflates the rage brimming inside me.
Jesse pulls her aside. “You can’t just run off like that. Not here. I was freaking out.”
She shrugs out of his hold. “You’re the one who brought me here. You’re idea. What, it’s not safe?”
His mouth falls open. “Don’t do this shit.” His gaze slides to me, and he adds, “Not now, all right?”
Something unsaid and tense passes between them, then, “Fine,” Mel says, and heads to the door. She gives me a quick look, crooks a smile, and walks out of the room.
The Jesse guy follows, but sends me a look of his own. One that says stay the fuck away from her. I give him a head nod, cocking my chin out. He doesn’t like that at all. He closes the door to a crack and then takes a couple steps toward me.
“Mel is MC property,” he says. When my face registers my confusion, and revulsion at hearing her be anyone’s property, he states, “She’s off limits.”
This guy is my height, and I give him credit for squaring his shoulders and standing toe-to-toe with me. But I also know he just witnessed what I did to the guy in the ring. Maybe he feels I’m taxed after one brutal fight, but I’m far from out.
I lift my chin higher, challenging. “If that was true,” I say slowly. “Then you wouldn’t need to spell it out for me now, would you?”
His whole face contorts with anger. He takes a step back, then another, and I wait for him to make another threat, but he doesn’t. I guess there was something in his first warning t
hat should have been made clear, but I’m not accustomed to MC rules. Their lifestyle. As far as I’m concerned, every woman should be free to make her own choices.
And from what I remember Melody telling me, she’s not in an MC. Her father was. So whatever claim this guy is trying to stake on her isn’t his right. Then again, he just watched me beat the shit out of someone. He could be trying to look out for her, which I understand. But his method is all wrong. He comes across all wrong.
He leaves without another word or trading blows, and I sink into the chair. I have got to stop letting other people rile me up. Although I felt like this was one case that was justified.
As I’m slipping my shirt over my head, I hear my cell beep. I reach for my pack and dig out my phone.
Unknown sender: You shared one of your secrets, I feel obligated by the rules of our agreement to share one of mine. Parker’s Dragway. Tomorrow at 6. Come find out.
A smile curls my lips, and I wince at the quick jab of pain from the cut on my mouth. I program Melody’s name to the unknown number and hit save.
Affable just bumped up a notch.
Melody
An undercurrent in my sea of waves, crashing
ALMOST A WEEK SINCE I was released from Stoney and I’m still sober—for the most part.
I got a part-time gig at a coffee shop a few blocks down from my apartment. Which is a completely different clientele than I’m used to making drinks for. Although Randy offered me full time hours at the bar, I had to reject that sympathetic handout. Doesn’t mean I don’t drop in for a beer myself, but I make sure it’s a time when the MC aren’t around, like when Jesse’s working at the mechanic shop with Tank.
There’s a small group of the Lone Breed staying in town until Jesse’s acquitted of all charges. Which his fancy lawyer believes will be really soon. And I am relieved, honestly. Regardless of how I turned on him yesterday at that backyard brawl thing, what I said…I do know in my heart the wreck wasn’t Jesse’s fault. And I do think it’s best if he leaves here. Leaves me.