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And it was hard for me to figure out how to feel about it.
I hadn’t even finished the whole interaction and didn’t care what judgments other people made about me for it.
I left the room and found something the hell else to do.
And when they pinged me to let me know he was back and that there was an immediate chain of command meeting needed... I declined.
I wasn’t in a productive headspace and I had nothing to contribute.
They could catch me up at a later time.
Unaffected, my ass.
I wasn’t surprised Maite had sought me out, now that some of her anger had been able to sink below the surface.
She had to understand the truth of what was happening, and if she understood that, I knew her anger towards me would last only so long. There would probably be some lingering resentment for a good while, but I could handle that part.
Especially if it meant she was safe from someone hellbent on using her to hurt the other people she cared about.
I hated that this was where everything stood now.
This shit was not what being in a motorcycle club was about.
Not what it wassupposedto be about, not all the damn time.
This was why Jesse and Gerard had been so bent on creating legal income streams for our people, so that as we developed over generations, the club could be a source of positivity, growth, all those corny ass buzzwords from after school specials and shit.
At the core, yeah we were a gang, but on some deeper plane, the idea was to be a community resource.
The violence, the war, that shit would be in the past.
This was supposed to be a good time for my people and instead we were mired in this shit.
It was frustrating.
To say the least.
And I couldn’t help wondering how different it could all be if our OGs hadn’t had the secrets they did. ’Cause now, I was looking at Ozias and everybody else sideways, wanting to ask questions about what ink they might be covering up.
That was pushing it though.
“What are you doing out here?”
I rolled my eyes at the sound of Onyx’s voice, then immediately wondered internally,girl what the hell was that?
Was my brain really doing this?
Anxious about him being in such a charged setting with another woman—one he had been deeply intimate with—and then pissed about it when he came back?
Thiswas why I preferred dealing with niggas I knew were trash from the outset.
With them I never got attached enough to have these kind of problems.
“Watching the sunrise,” I said, trying and failing to keep the attitude out of my voice.
“Come to bed.”
“It’s morning. Almost time to get the day started.”
