Keeping Her - Jordan Marie Page 0,29

as blood spurts out, but I can’t let myself feel guilty. He doesn’t deserve that. I’ve had enough of men playing me for a fool. I promised myself it would never happen again.

“Fuck, woman,” he growls, his head going down as he holds his nose.

I get enough distance to give me sufficient room to get power and then I bring my leg up and connect with his groin. He doesn’t go down, but he stumbles and that’s enough. I take off running and I don’t look back. I don’t stop until I find Gabby’s car that she lent me earlier. I can hear Luke yelling, but I ignore him, starting up her car, shoving it into reverse, squealing tires and peeling out with the smell of rubber behind me, leaving Luke behind.

21

Grunt

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Jonesy says when I walk in. Ford lets out a wolf-whistle and I ignore them both. I grab a cold beer from behind the bar and snag a bottle of Ibuprofen that Tank keeps behind the counter to treat his hangover—which he has often, because Tank likes to drink almost as much as he likes to fuck.

“Fuck off.”

“Seriously man, what happened? Who do we need to kill?” Ford growls. “I told you motherfuckers to stop going out unless you had someone with you. We have a target on our backs,” he adds. “Every son of a bitch around wants a piece of the empire we’ve built.”

I close my eyes.

“It was Jasmine.”

They go silent and just like I knew all along—they’re not going to let that shit go.

“That redhead did that shit?”

“Holy fuck, Momma always told me to stay away from redheads, but holy hell.”

“What did you do to piss her off?” Ford asks, staring at me. He’s studying me and I guess I should worry about what he sees, but right now I’m too messed up in the head to think about it. I grunt, not wanting to get into this shit, especially right now. “Did you tell her why you were following her?”

I tighten my hand into a fist, a new surge of anger thrusting through me with such a white-hot fury that my hand literally trembles. I slam it against the bar, causing the contents on it to rattle.

“I didn’t tell her shit about Lyla,” I snarl, pissed off. This is just a reminder of the secrets I’m keeping from Jasmine, and it’s clear, especially after tonight, that my Red isn’t the type of woman who likes secrets.

“Then what?” Ford presses and if I didn’t love my brother, I’d hate the fucker right now.

“I made the mistake of trying to tell her about Daisy.”

“Oh fuck, Grunt. I thought you were smarter than that,” Jonesy replies. I take a swig of my beer and hold my head down. Just that small movement hurts like fuck, but I ignore the pain.

“I did too.”

“Damn boy, what got a hold of you?” Sledge asks. Sledge is one of the original members. He and Ford started the club together. He sits in on votes and always attends church, but he retired from a position in the club years ago. Ford didn’t like it, but Sledge was dealing with personal shit, so no one questioned him. Craven took over as VP, but he and Ford are like oil and water sometimes. They both want the same things for the club, they just don’t agree on how to get it.

“His girlfriend,” Jonesy laughs.

“Holy shit. The girl has skills,” Sledge says and he’s not wrong. Someone trained Jasmine and trained her well. That makes me jealous, I’m not even going to bother denying it. “When do we get to meet her? I want to see this chick.”

“Never, judging by Grunt’s face,” Ford laughs.

“How’d you piss her off?” Sledge pushes. I grunt, refusing to answer again. I should have known Jonesy would answer for me.

“He tried to tell her about Daisy,” Jonesy answers.

Sledge frowns, and then he takes a drink of his whiskey, releasing a breath after he swallows it down.

“Women get particular sometimes,” he says, sagely.

“You mean pissy,” Ford laughs.

“That too. Good you found out what she’s like now, boy. You don’t need that kind of shit in your life. There’s too many women out there that’s willing to give you what you want and only use their mouth to suck your dick and not give you shit,” Sledge responds.

I scoot my seat back, the sound of it scraping against the concrete abnormally loud. I walk off, without saying