“That’s what I’m asking of you. The bare minimum. Visit her for twenty minutes. Let her say her piece. Then you can go back to”—she waved a hand back toward the clubhouse—“whatever you do in a biker gang.”
“Club,” I clarified. “We’re a club, not a gang.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So, will you do it?”
I stared at the stream, my eyes unfocused as I considered her ask. “Can I think about it?”
“I guess.” She tossed a rock into the water and watched the waves expand outward. “I need to get back. I have to work tonight.”
“You work?”
She nodded. “At a diner. I wash dishes. Sweep floors. They pay me in cash. Under the table.”
I didn’t like it. At fifteen, she should be—I don’t know—playing with makeup? Walking around the mall? What did kids do these days?
She opened the Uber app on her phone, and I pressed her hand down to stop her.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
I shot a text to Merrick.
Me: Long story, but I have a sister. She took an Uber here. Can I borrow your truck to drive her home?
He responded with just a thumbs-up. He always said I could borrow it anytime. But I still liked to offer the courtesy of asking.
Jessa followed down the trail and hesitated when I took a path that split from the way we’d come.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked suspiciously, stopping in her tracks.
“My club brother lives on the property. I’m borrowing his truck to take you home. I only have a bike, and I can’t take you on that. He lives this way.”
She stepped after me. “Why not? I’ve been on a motorcycle before.”
“You what?”
“Yeah, I went on a date with a guy who drove one.”
“Was he wearing a Mavericks cut?”
“A what?”
“This,” I said, tugging at the leather vest with patches. “Was he wearing one of these?”
She laughed. “No.”
“Good,” I gruffed.
“Does that mean I can’t date any of the guys inyour little gang?”
“Club,” I reminded her. “And no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.”
“Why?”
“One, because you’re a child. Fucking jailbait. And two, and most fuck-portantly, you’re my sister. That makes you a no-fly zone.”
“Huh.” Her tone was even, but curious.
“Huh? The fuck does that mean?”
