“It’s okay,” I assure her. “Muff won’t let me get hurt.”
We all turn and watch the guys talking amongst themselves.
I hope I’m right.
Chapter 7
Deck the halls!
Muff
“Fuck it, I want to know who the bastard is that’s threatening my woman,” I bark down the phone.
“We’re on it, Muff,” Jett, one of Spike’s boys, growls.
“Well, hurry it up. Link anything you can, find out why the fuck this bastard is after money. Dig up all the dirt you can on that dead son-of-a-bitch and tell me what you find out.”
“Got it.”
I hang up the phone and sigh, running my fingers through my hair. Jackson puts a hand on my shoulder. “Bein’ angry ain’t gonna fix this one, buddy. We’ll find that fucker, and we’ll make sure he doesn’t touch J.”
“She’s in danger, boss. I know it, and I can’t fuckin’ stop it.”
“You can keep an eye on her, make sure she’s got someone with her at all times. We’ll find this bastard. He’s bound to show his face sooner or later.”
“And if he shows it when we’re not around?” I say, crossing my arms.
Jackson shakes his head. “Won’t be happening.”
I sigh. Fuck. When did our Christmas break turn into fuckin’ work? It always goes south, no matter what we try to do. Sometimes, I wonder why I’m part of a club. I doubt my involvement, more often then not.
“Don’t go lookin’ like that,” Jackson growls. “Don’t start doubtin’ this.”
“Hard not to, boss. We can’t even have a night away without bullshit.”
“It’s life.”
“No,” I say, turning and walking off. “It’s not.”
I let my eyes scan the car lot for Janine. She’s standing with the girls, and they’ve got their arms wrapped around her, holding her close. I walk over, stopping in front of them. Ciara looks up, giving me a pleading look. I guess I look angry. Can they blame me? She didn’t tell me. Months together, and she didn’t fuckin’ tell me that she had a problem. Of course I’m mad; she could have been hurt, or worse...
“We’re goin’,” I say to Janine.
She lifts her eyes, and I can’t meet them. Not when they’re all hurt and pained. It fuckin’ guts me. Maybe I’m bein’ unfair, but I just need time to cool off. I Just a fuckin’ minute to breathe, and process this.
“I wanted to see Addi,” she whispers.
“You can see her in the mornin’. She needs her rest.”
She steps away from the girls and nods, giving them a weak smile. They return that weak smile, and then turn and walk back to the guys. I take Janine’s arm, and I pull her toward my truck. She doesn’t say anything; she just lets me pull her. I open the door and help her in, and then I get into the front seat.
We drive home in silence. What is there to say? She knows I’m mad. I’m trying not to be, but I can’t stop it. I hate being angry, and it’s on a rare occasion that I end up so angry I can’t speak. It pisses me off when I’m like this; because it’s not who I am, but stopping it isn’t so easy. I want to turn to her, grip her beautiful face and tell her it’s going to be ok, but to do that, I need time to breathe.
I’m far too hurt, and, if I’ll admit it, I’m fuckin’ scared.
She’s everything to me now.
When we arrive at my house, Janine turns to me, confused. “W...w...why are we here?”
I don’t look at her; I just stare out the front of the truck. “You and Ebony are stayin’ with me until this shit is sorted.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but when she sees the angry expression I shoot her, she closes it.
“O...okay.”
I get out of the truck, letting my eyes scan the area around us to make sure we weren’t followed before opening her door and letting her out. She follows me to the front door, quietly. Just as I open it, she whispers, “I’m sorry Muff.”
Fuck.
Fuck.
Now she’s making this harder than it has to be, because she’s makin’ me feel awful. I know she’s sorry—fuck, I can see it in her eyes, but I am tryin’ to deal with my own anger before I can talk this out with her. I’m not one to say shit I don’t mean out of rage, and I’m not about to start now.
I simply nod my head at her.
It’s the best I’ve got right now.
~*~*~*~
Janine
I know he’s mad at me. I can see it in his eyes. The usual playful blue depths are flaring with wild anger. He’s hurting, too, and I know it’s because I kept this from him. I guess I was wrong about us. I guess we were closer than I’d thought, and the fact that I didn’t share this has obviously hurt him. I hate that he’s upset, but I don’t know what I can say to make that better. How do I remove a hurt I put down?
So I apologize.
He stiffens by the door, but he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he nods, and opens the door, stepping inside. I wait at the door while he scans the area, and, when he’s happy with it he nods at me again. I walk in, stopping by the couch. What do I say? I’ve said sorry, and he didn’t acknowledge it. I don’t know how far to push this. I don’t imagine Muff gets angry often—he’s usually so carefree.
When he storms into the kitchen and picks up a coffee mug, only to drop it onto the floor, everything explodes. The glass shatters, and he curses loudly. Then he grips another one, hurling it across the room and smashing it into the wall. I whimper and wrap my arms around myself as he continues on his rampage. Muff angry...it’s scary. He’s like a wild man, with that thick red hair whipping around his face. His big powerful body is scrunched with rage.