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“That’s all a lie. He’s firmly involved.”
Jordan asked Zellman, “You think this could be a weird way to try to control her? Manipulate her somehow?”
Zellman shrugged, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the couch. He pulled his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “Who the fuck knows. Don’t know how, though.” He looked at me. “He say anything else?”
I shook my head, then remembered. “It was weird.” I looked at Cross. “He mentioned Harper.”
“Harper?” Jordan’s head lifted farther up.
Cross added, “Said there’s a Harper on the prison board where he was, and knew he was from Cain. He knows Harper’s son, and wondered if we knew him.”
“The fuck?”
Cross nodded at Jordan. “I know, but with Drake, who the fuck knows what he was really after.” He glanced around. “I’m assuming we’re not playing ball with him?”
Zellman looked to me.
Jordan looked to me.
Cross was already looking at me.
It was my dad, his MC, and I nodded. I think I’d already knew my decision before I even hung up with Drake’s call.
“I can’t get behind handing over a witness’ name to my dad’s MC.”
“Agreed.”
“Sounds good to me.” From Jordan.
Cross only asked, “You’re okay with that?”
I thought on that, thinking deep, feeling deep.
Being loyal to my dad was one thing, but turning over a name to an MC that I was not a part of was a whole different matter. This was a fork in the road. If we got that name, handed it over, we’d go down a path that I didn’t want to go down. I wanted to be normal, or as normal as I could be, and I wanted to do a job, have a career, and spend time with family and friends.
I wanted what I hadn’t had growing up.
“I am. Yeah.”
“And if your dad finds out that you could’ve got the name and didn’t?”
I looked at Jordan. “Then we’ll deal with it then.”
“Good. I’m more than okay with that.”
Zellman groaned, standing up. “I’m tired. I’ve dealt with my ex and her baby and I just want to sleep for like the next millennium. And I’m so behind with school. Shit.”
Jordan grinned, reaching over as he stood and tapping Z on the shoulder. “Everything said, I’m glad you’re back.”
Zellman half-growled. “We’re going to have to do some study sessions, like a fucking ton of them.”
Cross asked, “That something you want to start tonight? Bren’s heading out for girls’ night.”
Both Z and Jordan looked at me, eyebrows slightly raised.
I flushed, then I cursed because I wasn’t used to flushing. “What? I have friends.”
Jordan snorted. “Yeah. Us. And the one in the bathroom.”
I flicked my eyes up but laughed. “Whatever. I’m branching out. And there’s Hawk.”
“Right. The female warrior who provided backup once to a sorority house?”
I grinned. “Fuck off, Jordan.”
He laughed, then looked over.
Tabatha had materialized around the corner.
“Hey.” He started for her.
She shook her head, her face pale, her eyes puffy, but she held a hand up. It had a phone in it. “Jessy called. I–uh–I’m going to head to the house after all.” She put her phone into her pocket, using both hands to tuck strands of hair behind her ears. She included everyone as she said, “I really do appreciate everything you guys have done, but I think I need to be with my sisters right now.”
I nodded. “We’re here if you need us…”
Cross added, “You need anything, Tab. You know to call us.”
“I will.” She turned to Jordan. “Could I get a ride over there?”
“Yeah. Of course.” He gestured behind her. “Let me hit the bathroom, then we can go now.”
As he did, Zellman headed upstairs, Tabatha migrated over to the door. She had one bag in hand and she lingered at the door. Almost abruptly, as if she found the courage to say it, she said to me, “I’ll call you tomorrow?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Can I call tomorrow?”
“Sure. Are you–are you okay? You want to talk now?”
She shook her head, her eyes darting past me to the hallway as Jordan was coming back. “No. I just–I know you called a bunch, and I have a few things I want to say to you. All good, I promise.”
“Oh. Okay.” I gave her a smile.
Jordan came over, taking the bag she was holding and grabbing the other. He said over his shoulder as she moved outside, “Be back, yeah?”
I nodded, then moved to watch them as they got into Jordan’s truck and headed off.
Cross came to stand next to me. “You okay?”
“She’s not the same person.”
And she wasn’t. Tabatha meant well at times, was spoiled at times, was a bitch at times, prissy at times, was a friend at times, but she always had fight in her. That girl who was just standing there, the fight was gone. She wasn’t the same person, at least not right now.
