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Optimus was a lion—a predator.
Kent was a gazelle, and he was lucky the lion wasn’t hungry.
Yet.
I was pretty sure he’d make room if he really wanted to.
Kent backed away, practically frothing at the mouth in anger. He’d been outmaneuvered, outsmarted, and punched in the face by a teenage girl. He was going back inside to lick his wounds.
I hoped at least.
Like I said before, Kent didn’t seem to me like he was the brightest crayon in the box. Which could mean he was stupid enough not to know when to give up.
When the front door to the prison clicked closed, I finally turned to face my club president.
My club?
Was it really still my club?
Was I still an old lady?
I actually had no damn idea.
What I did know was that whether I was upset with them or whether I felt like Ham had stolen my heart and then stomped on it, I knew I would never turn my back on them. They were family. They were people I loved and cared for, and I would do whatever I had to in order to help or protect.
“How’s school?” Optimus asked casually like we weren’t standing outside a prison, and I hadn’t just punched a man of the law in the face.
I cleared my throat, feeling a little nervous. I liked Optimus. He was stern, but he was always fair and just, and never lost his shit or made a drama out of nothing. Plus, he was an amazing father. Not just with Harlyn, who could be a handful at the best of times, but with the twins, too. He did his part to help where he could, and he looked at each one of those kids and Chelsea with more love and pride that you could have ever imagined. I had a lot of respect for him as a president but also as a person.
“School is okay. Romeo told you I was here?” I asked, not bothering with the bullshit. He chuckled, and I fell into step with him as we walked around the corner and across the parking lot to my car. His bike was parked directly beside it, sitting proud and glistening in the autumn sun.
“Yeah, I wanted to catch you just in case you decided to make a run for it without saying goodbye.”
I cringed.
Ouch.
I couldn’t even call it a low blow because the thought had actually crossed my mind.
That’s what I would have done before. It was my go-to reaction. What I’d been taught to do whenever I ran into a problem that scared me, or one which I thought I couldn’t handle. It was what my mom had always encouraged me to do, including when shit had hit the fan with Ham, and I was desperate to just get the hell away.
My mom was onboard straight away.
She didn’t object.
She jumped at the chance to get me the hell away from the club.
If I’d gone to Uncle Leo instead, maybe things would have been different.
“I don’t say that with malice,” he added after a few tense seconds.
“This is such a mess,” I groaned, throwing my head back and allowing my body to slump.
“You have to stop running, Meyah,” Op ordered sternly. Reluctantly, I lowered my head and met his gaze, it was intense but warm and comforting. He made me feel safe like Uncle Leo, but it was different. I felt like I could talk to him without respect, and without emotions running too high and without risking losing someone who helped raise me, if I said something that was a little too close to the heart—or the truth.
I sighed. I fought the urge to make it heavy and dramatic like a tantrum-throwing teenager. Now wasn’t the time to immature. “I’m so confused, Op. I don’t know which way is up. Or down. I miss him. But at the same time, I want to ram my foot into his balls. I miss everyone at the club, but then I find out there was this big conspiracy going on behind my back. I fought too hard to get to a place where I actually respect myself and can be proud of who I am, to just pretend that this is all fine and fucking dandy.”
“Just because we didn’t tell you Ham was locked up, doesn’t mean that you are any less important to our family than he is.” I leaned back against my car and ran my fingers through my hair. The pull on my fingers sent a sharp pain through my fingers and down my arm, and I hissed, my body tensing. “Let me have a look,” Op ordered.
