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I sighed, holding out my hand and letting him take it. “It felt like I was back at school again. Like everyone was watching, knowing Ham had done something wrong, but still taking his side—just like they did with Nick.” I lifted my other hand and rubbed at the pain in my chest, hoping it would somehow disappear. “I don’t want to be that girl anymore, Op. The club made me feel so much stronger than I was back then because they had my back. But being away, I’ve had to have my own, and I refuse to go back to be whispered about and lied to. No, I can’t do it. I won’t.”
“And trust me when I say you don’t have to,” he said, dipping his head so he could look me in the eyes. “I know what it’s like to try and push away the people you care about, thinking that was the best way to keep them safe… even if it meant hurting them in the process. I know where his head is at because I’ve done the exact same thing. We would all rather have the people we loved alive and hating us with every part of their heart and soul, than hurt, or attacked… or killed.”
I didn’t know a lot about Op and Chelsea’s relationship, but I knew they had a difficult start.
I even knew that Chelsea had almost died after Op finally claimed her.
My nose wrinkled in confusion, and I shook my head. “What are you trying to say?” It was like he was giving me all the pieces, but I just couldn’t put them together. There was something he wasn’t telling me—something he couldn’t tell me. But he was trying to in a strange roundabout way. “You think he’s trying to protect me from something?”
God. It was something he’d do.
Because I knew him so well.
That was the thing. I did know him. Ham was loyal to a fault. He put time into the people he loved. He fought for them. He would die for them. He didn’t cheat. Or lie. Or steal.
So why would that suddenly change?
Unless it was simply the perfect opportunity to keep me away.
Op chuckled as he wiggled my fingers with not too much pain. “You think guards follow every pretty girl out of jail and offer to chat with them, help them out, support them in a time where their ‘loser’ boyfriends are incarcerated?”
Kent was creepy. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized there were other couples in that room, touching hands, hugging on arrival, but I reached out to him once, and Kent came down on me hard.
Because he was looking for an excuse to get close to me?
Or looking for an excuse to get at Ham?
I pushed away from the car and stood a little straighter. “What are they doing to him in there?” I demanded, my heart beginning to race.
Op met my eyes with an intensity which told me he was on to something, and that he was not fucking happy about it. “I can’t say much, Meyah, but these guys… they don’t like men convicted of killing an officer.”
“Ham didn’t kill him,” I protested, tugging my hand away from Op’s grasp and shaking my head in frustration. “Maybe they should know what their asshole sheriff was really like. Maybe they should see this.” I pointed sharply at the scar on my neck. One I would have permanently, despite Skins doing his best to minimize the scaring. It might fade, but it was never going to go away.
I started to pace back and forth, my shoes scraping against the asphalt.
“Suddenly, I wish I’d hit that asshole a lot harder.”
He reached over and grabbed his helmet off the front of his bike and placed it on his head, his hands fiddling with the straps. “Tell me, Meyah, if you had a do-over of that day where you thought you saw him and Jess. What would you do?”
I pursed my lips. Confused by the question but knowing the answer instantly.
I’d given up on being trampled and treated like trash.
I cleared my throat. “I’d politely slip between them and ask her to back off.”
Op raised his eyebrow. He knew I was giving him the PG version. I rolled my eyes and rotated my shoulders. “Okay, so I’d probably grab her by the hair and dump her outside on her ass. Happy?”
Optimus smirked. “Oh, there it is.”
My brow knotted together, and I stopped pacing, looking over my shoulder at him. “There what is?”
“The difference between an Old Lady and a scared teenage girl.” He climbed on his bike and started the engine.
“What? Because I would physically attack someone?” I called over the loud rumble.
“No! Because your first reaction was to fight for him… not run away,” he called back, revving his engine once before he flicked up his stand and nodded his head at me and pulled away.
I couldn’t help but just stare at his retreating figure.
Fuck.
