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A cold shiver dances down my spine. Jesse’s normally a super confident, happy-go-lucky guy, but telling this tale seems hard on him.
“Once he smashed a bottle over my arm.” He turns said arm over, displaying a jumble of scars half covered in ink that I noticed a couple of times before. “Jason… Jason Vega, we used to work the streets together. He found me, and helped me, added me to his gang and decided I was his to protect. He insisted I report Simon, after what happened, but I chickened out for years. When I finally did, I managed to get him behind bars. Thing is…” He pushes the bottle away and runs a hand over the dark buzz of his head. “I was afraid for a while that he’d come after me once he was released from prison. But he never did.” Jesse frowns. “I asked Jason about it, if Simon ever gives him trouble these days. Jason says he doesn’t.”
“Then what’s his connection to the Club?” I ask.
“Jason’s?” Jesse narrows his eyes at me. “The Club is Simon’s HQ. Who said Jason has any connection to it?”
I wince. “I—”
“You talked to Jason,” Ocean says, clenching his bottle in his hand so tightly I’m surprised it hasn’t shattered yet. “What happened, R?”
I shake my head. “I need his phone number.” I turn to Jesse. “I’m sure you have it. I need to talk to him.”
“What for?” Ocean scowls at me. “You don’t get to harass him.”
“I won’t harass him. Jesus, Shun.” I push away from the table, my heart pounding, a mixture of shame and anger churning in my stomach. “I just need to talk to him.”
“You hate him.”
“I don’t hate him! I like him.”
Ringing silence greets my statement.
“Since when?” Seth asks, those shrewd dark eyes on me.
“I fucking knew it,” Micah crows from the other end of the table. He lifts his beer. “Go get him, tiger!”
“Fuck you. I like him, I don’t…”
I don’t love him.
My heart starts pounding harder. Now where is that coming from, huh?
I sit back down.
Ocean is staring hard at me, as if he can find his answers on my face. “Fine. I have his number, and I’ll give it to you. But first, have you seen him lately?”
Something in his tone makes me sit up from my slouch. “Why?”
“Because he won’t answer his phone, and he hasn’t come around to pick up the money I give him every month. I’m worried. I even checked with the police in case they picked him up, but nope.”
I don’t say anything. Shit. Jason stopped taking the money.
Ocean is staring at me. Waiting. Silence stretches between us, straining and aching.
In the end, it’s Jesse who asks the question. “You’ve met with Jason. Recently.”
Okay, not really a question, but still. “Yeah.”
“When?”
“Last time was the night I met Dad. He helped me escape from Simon’s men. I haven’t seen him since.” I lift my hands when Ocean opens his mouth to speak, his eyes shooting daggers at me. “I looked for him. Couldn’t find him.”
“If I’m here now,” Jesse Lee says, his voice rough, “if I’m sane enough to lead a normal life, I owe it to Jason. If you as much as touch a hair on his head…”
We did a lot more than just touching, I want to tell him, but that’s not the point. “I wouldn’t hurt him.”
