didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d jump into freezing cold water to save me, but you clearly are, so …” I lift a shoulder.
His grip on the wheel constricts. “So you and me are gonna keep dancing like this? Good to know.”
“Dancing?” I question. “Don’t you mean me handing you your ass?”
His nostrils flare, and he starts to turn around in the seat to do who the hell knows what.
“Zay, focus on driving,” Jax orders as he pushes a few buttons on his phone.
I find it a little bizarre that neither one of them have asked if I told Hunter what was wrong with my side. With Jax being so demanding about it, I thought he’d bring it up again. And Zay hasn’t brought it up either, which again, is strange.
The only thing I can think of is that Hunter somehow told them without me knowing. But that doesn’t seem possible since they haven’t been alone together … unless he managed to send them a text without me knowing. If he did, that means he lied to me.
I sneak a glance at Jax, who’s still looking at his phone, reading something on the screen. Suspicion builds inside me, and I’m about to go all interrogation on them when he sets his phone down.
“We need to talk about the rules,” he announces, sticking his hand out toward Hunter. “Before I do, though, give me the box.”
Hunter’s eyes light up. “Shit. I almost forgot about that.” Grinning at me, he opens the glovebox. “It’s present time.”
“Is it someone’s birthday?” I ask, glancing at the three of them.
Hunter shakes his head as he collects a small box from inside the glovebox. “Nope. This is an apology present.”
“No, it’s not,” Jax insists as he snatches the box from Hunter. “She just needs one. That’s all.”
“Aw now, come on, Jax. You can at least call it an apology present for breaking hers,” Hunter tells him, closing the glovebox.
“Calling it that would mean I feel sorry for breaking it, and I don’t.” He hands me the box. “Besides, the one I threw out the window was a pile of shit.”
Wait …
I glance at the box he’s holding out for me to take. A box that holds a fancy looking phone.
Confusion twirls in my mind. “You bought me a phone?”
“You don’t have to sound so sad about it.” Zay turns onto a wider road that’s lined sparsely with houses. “In fact, you should be saying thank you.”
“Why? You guys broke my old phone.” I toss Jax an accusing look. “Or you did, anyway.”
The corners of his lips quirk for a microsecond, but the look quickly evaporates. “Yeah, I did. But like I said, I’m not apologizing for it. You shouldn’t have tried to call someone.”
“Yeah, because it’s so insane of me to want to try to call for help when three guys force me into an SUV,” I quip with an eye roll. “I’ll make sure to make a mental note of that for next time that happens.”
“No,” all three of them say, startling the crap out of me.
I suspiciously glance at them. “Why do you guys all look like you’re planning on rehashing what happened yesterday?”
“We’re not.” Jax fiddles with a piercing in his brow, twisting the barbell a little. “But there’s a risk that someone else might try to do that to you. It’s how Honeyton works.”
“Because of the whole five mafia families?” I ask, but it’s not really a question. I figure that’s probably the reason.
Jax nods then urges me to take the phone. “This, though, is going to help protect you.”
I don’t take the phone, still a bit suspicious. “Why? My old one didn’t help protect me from you.”
Again, his lips barely, barely quirk. “Only because it was a pile of shit. This one”—he drops the box onto my lap—“has a tracking app, something your old phone didn’t have.”
“I’m pretty sure that ancient piece of crap didn’t even have the capability of getting apps,” Zay remarks as he pulls into an old-school looking diner with flashing neon signs.
I’m not sure why Zay is parking in front of the diner, unless he’s getting breakfast.
“It didn’t,” I clarify, still not picking up the box. I feel like the moment I do, I’m silently agreeing to some sort of commitment with their little circle. “But it’s the only phone I could afford. And it made calls and texts, which is all I really need.”
Hunter glances over his shoulder at me with his brows knit.