Wrath (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #7) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,4

Wass up, homey?” I give her a confused stare.

Jillian was my assigned roommate at University of Arizona. Unlike most roommates, however, we became best friends instead of arch enemies. Her father is the head of the School of Applied Sciences and Technology and has so many degrees from Ivy League schools and MIT, I can’t even count them on my fingers. He immigrated to the United States from Sierra Leone with his mother, when he was twelve. They barely made it out alive and spoke no English. Jillian’s mother, on the other hand, is the head of African American Studies at the university, so Jillian’s had the full academic upbringing and is culturally the polar opposite of my world, but that hasn’t stopped us from becoming as close to sisters as I could have imagined.

We even fight like sisters sometimes.

“Hey.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t work?”

I shake my head. “If it works for you, I guess.”

She is one of the smartest people I know and that’s saying something. She’s letting her hair go natural after straightening it for most of the years we were in school. She’s reminds me of Zoe Kravitz with Pam Grier’s seventies hair. She’s stunning and smart, with a heart of gold, and my first and only best friend outside of my mother.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” She asks me, crinkling her nose. “We’re going to a bar, and you look like June Cleaver.” She squints, checking me over. “Are you wearing pearls?”

“Shut up.” I snap back, my hand going to my throat. “Aren’t pearls in?”

I run my hands down the front of my dress, looking down at myself.

“You are hopeless, you know that? Four years together and you still dress like you’re on Happy Days.”

“Whatever. I’m just bringing sexy back, 1950’s style.”

“Uh huh.” She rolls her eyes and sits down at the kitchen table, hanging her vintage US ARMY satchel on the back of the ladderback chair. “Your father know you’re going to a drag bar tonight?”

“Shhhh!” I lean to look down the hall toward his office. “You know he doesn’t. I said we were going to a movie. A Disney movie. Then dinner and back to your house. I told him your parents would be home.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She does this sign of the cross and I screw up my face.

“That’s for Catholics, dummy.”

She throws her hands up. “Sorry, me and my pagan upbringing...”

Before she can go on, I hear the click of the door on my father's office and his voice.

Jillian sits up and turns toward the hall as I see my father emerge with someone behind him.

A second later, I hear the other person’s voice and that anxiety and nausea returns in spades.

“Tomorrow is food pantry. Don’t forget.” My father is saying as they come into the doorway to the kitchen. He nods at Jillian, then looks at me as William Steward, our Junior Pastor, comes in behind him. “I will count on you both to be there promptly at seven am. The delivery truck comes at eight, and the volunteers as well. William is in charge until I return.”

“Yes, I’ll be there, like I always am.” I reply and see the flash of anger in my father's eyes as William holds back a snarl.

“Your attitude is...uncalled for.” My father says.

“I’m just saying.” I soften my voice. “Have I ever not been there at seven am?”

“I think your father is just making sure we are going to work together as a team.” William is several inches shorter than my father. He was a student at the Fostoria School of Theology where my father teaches in the Master’s of Divinity program.

When our previous junior pastor was called to his own church last year, William took the position and is looking to take on the position as son-in-law as well, it would seem.

He’s got this air of arrogance and forced power that makes me nervous. He also has this off-putting vibe like he’s always on the prowl. Like he needs to get laid and he’ll say or do whatever he can to make that happen. Jillian calls him “pastor creepy”, and I have to say I don’t disagree.

“I’ll be on my way out in the next hour.” My father looks at Jillian, then to me. “The retreat is silent. I’ll be checking my phone but only if you have an emergency should you call or message me. Is that clear?”

I nod and he finishes, looking at Jillian. “You girls don’t be out late.”

“I’ll have her