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But apparently, he was just waiting for the right time to cash it in.
I wanted to walk away, to run and never look back. But could I really?
I had spent years working on myself, distancing myself from the person I used to be and the past I used to live. I may not have wanted to be that person who lied and cheated anymore, but I also didn’t want to be the person who turned her back on her family when they needed her the most.
Stepping back, I let out a heavy sigh. “If you need that much, you’re going to have to wait a couple of weeks so I can pick up some overtime.”
His eyes brightened, and he nodded. “Yeah, okay. That will work.” He got to his feet and threw his arms around me, hugging me tight for a second before stepping back. “I’m sorry, Shay. I didn’t want it to be this way, but hey, now I’m close by, we can catch up all the time. And I’ll have a job. It’ll be awesome. Like a fresh start.”
I swallowed hard. “I just wish it was without Jason around. He’s bad ne—”
“It’s okay,” Ali interrupted with a laugh. “Shay, Don’t worry. It’s all gonna be fine.” He started to back away, a wide grin on his face. A grin that had once made me feel at ease but now twisted my stomach into knots.
“Stay safe,” I called after him.
He waved back over his shoulder. “See you soon. I’ll call you.”
Then he was gone, jumping in a run-down car parked across the lot, smoke blowing from the muffler as he pulled out and sped off, just like that. He got what he wanted and was gone. I wasn’t surprised, really. I loved Ali. For a long time, he was my best friend and the only person in this world I could trust.
He protected me. He supported me.
But he was still in that place, and I was trying to move on with my life. I couldn’t be pulled back into that life. I needed to do this, then move on.
I let my shoulders sag and fell back down onto the bench. “See you soon.”
Chapter Eight
BISHOP
“My foster parents already got their last check,” Rafe explained, strumming his fingers on my table. His knuckles were bruised, a couple of them broken and bleeding—a clear sign he’d been taking out his anger and frustration on someone or something. “I’m eighteen next week, and they said I need to find somewhere else to go by next weekend.”
That was it.
They’d kick Rafe out and replace him with another kid. In and out like a revolving door.
“I want this. I want to be a part of the club,” Rafe insisted, sitting a little taller. “I’ve never been a part of anything, nothing important anyway. Never had a family who gave a shit. Never had people who wanted to have my back and fight for me.”
Blue stood against the wall behind him, watching the kid plead his case. It was obvious my sergeant at arms had given him the rundown on what the club was and what we stood for, and he saw something in Rafe he believed would be an asset to the club. The kid had fight, not just physically but deep within him.
And while I hadn’t been able to spend the time with the kid to get to know him, I trusted Blue with my life. I trusted his instincts.
He and I were both brought into the club by Rook. We’d both lived and learned the club life from a man who embodied what it meant to be a part of a brotherhood you may not have been born into. Rook showed us more love and respect than either of our fathers ever had, and I was sure Rafe was looking for someone to do the same for him.
Unfortunately, I’d had the boys so focused on finding this girl I hadn’t had time to call church and see what the rest of my brothers thought about inviting Rafe to prospect. Still, I also didn’t want the kid to end up living on the fucking street.
“You need to understand something, so listen very fucking clearly.” I tapped the patch on the left side of my chest.
EFFE.
Exiled Forever. Forever Exiled.
“This here. It means if you want in, you want in for life. Not for now, not for a while, not until you figure out what you want to do with your future.”
He nodded sharply. “I understand that.”
“You’re going to be pushed to your limits,” Blue added, walking around to stand at the end of the table. “Prospecting is a year minimum before the club will even consider inviting you to patch in. That’s a year of washing your brother’s rides, getting them drinks, running their old ladies around, babysitting if you fucking have to. It’s all about proving that you’re willing to go through all that bullshit and work hard for your place. Your brothers need to feel like they can trust and rely on you.”
I watched the kid carefully as Blue spoke, looking for any sign of apprehension.
