THIRTY-THREE
JENNA
Circus standsat the tree line, arm held out beside him to keep Kathy and me from walking into view. I glimpse the sign-writing on the side of the sheriff’s car, the man himself partially obscured by Fang as he talks to Chaos. My pulse beats a drum inside my ears, skin prickling with nervous energy. Why is he here? And why isn’t Maisie, the peace officer, with him?
“What do you think he wants?” Kathy whispers to Circus.
He shrugs, eyes sharp as they track the movements of the men across the yard. Chaos heads back indoors, Fang exchanging a few extra words with the sheriff before they part ways. Our minder waits until the patrol car reaches the end of the driveway before allowing us out of the tree-line.
“I don’t like this,” Kathy muses. “I hate not knowing who I can trust.”
My stomach knots.
Circus spins to look down at her, a frown twisting the lettering on his brow.
“Apart from you.” She reaches out and gently touches her hand to his.
I duck around the pair and head for the clubhouse, once again feeling as though I interrupt something I’m not supposed to see. If he makes her feel good, then I love that for her. I just can’t say the same about all of these men.
Especially one.
Fang’s voice drifts out of Chaos’s office when I enter the house, the men in soft discussion. I glare at Loki as he crosses my path, the guy lifting his eyebrows as though confused why I’m annoyed with him.
I’m mad because no matter which way I lean in this situation, I anger someone. Stay loyal to my father? Make myself enemy of the state for the Kings of Anarchy. Help the Kings of Anarchy? Put a target on my back from my father and likely the Devil’s Breed. Be honest about how badly I fucked up? May as well walk my ass into the Blood Eagles compound and hand them the loaded gun.
I don’t know where to go.I don’t know what to do.I hate feeling like this—unmoored, without guidance. Lost and confused on which way to go when all the horizon lines look the same: bleak, dark, and foreboding.
Holding on to safety in a place that has me on edge.
“Jenna!” Molly launches off the floor of the parlor when she spots me and grabs me by the hand.
I flinch a little. Why would she want to be so familiar with me? Why does she trust me?
“Come watch the movie with us.” Molly tugs me across to where pillows are piled on the floor, a blanket nestled in between with a giant bowl of popcorn half-consumed already. Somebody’s set a TV on top of a side table, turning the cozy corner into a mini media room.
“Hey.” Jezabel lounges on one side, The Kid resting against her legs. “It’s their pick,” she explains. “I’m here for the nostalgia.”
I still can’t wrap my head around calling The Kid Anna. It changes everything about her. Gives her personality, a backstory, substance. Everything that doesn’t fit with the quiet kid watching cartoons dance across the screen.
“Come join us if you don’t have anything else to do.” Jezabel pats the pillows. “We can make more popcorn if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not hungry right now. Thanks, though.” I settle where Molly leaves me, tugging a giant blue cushion onto my lap and hugging it to my chest.
I can’t pick the movie they have on. It’s old—maybe mid-nineties—and appears to be Disney. How fucking sad is that? This film would have been released when I was a baby, and yet, I’ve never seen it. Come to think of it, I hardly watched anything like this growing up. Mom didn’t have enough money for cable, and we sure as hell never went to the movie theater. I didn’t feel as though I missed out on anything at the time; I had nothing to compare it to, barely any friends to base my opinions off. But now?Fuck.Now it makes the back of my eyes sting to realize how many other basic rites of passage I may have also missed.
First dances. Sports group. Summer camp. After-school clubs.
I was isolated by my social class. By the conditions of my conception.
I never had a hope.
“You okay?” Jezabel frowns, head tilted back to peer up at me.
“Yeah.” I hug the cushion tighter. “A lot of head noise, is all.”
“I get that.” She smiles softly and then does the most unexpected thing. The woman shuffles along the floor to rest her head on my knee while she watches the movie.
The Kid readjusts to lie on her stomach, chin propped on her hands.
