“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “He told me a story, something about you actually.”
There was a pause. “What did he say?”
“There was a girl named Jolene. He said he was dating her, but then she left him for you. One night you brought her on a drug deal and she got shot. Jetter left the Demons because of that.”
Larkin laughed. “That’s true.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but he told it backward. Jolene left me for Jetter, and that fucking bastard was the one who got her killed.”
I blinked, surprised by that. “Why would he tell it to me a different way?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but you have to be careful when you’re around him. I told you Jetter is a crafty son of a bitch.”
I had no clue what the story was meant to prove. He had to have known that I was going to ask Larkin about it sooner or later, and as soon as I did, I’d find out the truth. Of course I believed Larkin over Jetter. I trusted my own adopted father over some stranger who betrayed the club a long time ago.
Whatever half-decent feelings I had for Jetter instantly vanished. He hadn’t been such a bad guy earlier in the morning, but now I realized that the whole thing had been an act. Jetter was still playing games, trying to get into my head, and probably trying to get into Larkin’s head as well.
“That bastard,” I said. “He’s just messing with us, isn’t he?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where any of this is going. But he stopped by not too long ago, and we had a talk.”
I felt a hollow pit in my stomach. “Just tell me.”
“He wants to move the wedding up. Two days from now.”
I took a short breath and slowly let it out. He wanted to move the wedding up. It was still happening.
I didn’t feel relieved.
“Okay,” I said. “Whatever you need. Better sooner than later I guess.”
“You don’t—”
“I do,” I said, interrupting him, “so stop saying it.”
“Okay then. Two days and you’ll be married.”
“Okay.”
“Stop by the clubhouse after work later,” he said. “We’ll talk more about it.” He paused. “It’s almost over. I promise. All of this is almost done.”
“Okay. See you later.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone, worry running through me. In two days, I was really going to marry this guy, some stranger I barely knew. Some stranger I didn’t like at all.
When the man I really wanted was sitting out on my couch, nursing a head wound.
I sighed, standing up. I had to get to work pretty soon to do a late shift. Hopefully Clutch was going to feel up for it, but I didn’t blame him if he sent a pledge to watch me instead.
I walked out of the room and went into the bathroom, starting the shower.
I was just not going to think about it. Jetter would be my husband soon and that was that. No need to linger on it, or wonder what else could have happened in my life. I was claimed and it was happening, whether I really wanted someone else or not.
I undressed and let the hot spray of water run down my skin, doing my best not to think about the man in the other room.
Clutch said he was fine to take me to work, but he definitely didn’t look fine. I wasn’t in the mood to argue though, so he slapped a few bandages on the cut and we headed out. At least he wasn’t actively bleeding anymore.
Work crawled along like usual, especially considering it was a late shift. I hated doing the dinner rush and then getting some of the drunk idiots that came in late. I got off at one in the morning, and poor Clutch was stuck sitting in a booth for eight hours doing absolutely nothing.
Not that he complained. He ate dinner, and then he ate a second dinner a few hours later. I tried not to stare at him too much or spend too much time at his table, but it was hard. The anger had long since faded, and that anger was replaced with this gnawing need.
Not to mention guilt. I hadn’t told him about the wedding getting moved up yet, because I was afraid of how he’d react.
I didn’t want to hurt him. Actually, I didn’t know if I could hurt him. Sure, we were fucking, and he said things that made me think it was more than just that, but I didn’t really know what he wanted. Maybe he was just using me for sex for a while, until I was finally married and not in his charge anymore.
Maybe I was overthinking this by a mile.
But I couldn’t help it. Clutch didn’t exactly make any of this easy for me. He was a hard man and impossible to read, and I had no clue what he wanted.
And forget about what I wanted. Was he just a hard cock that made me feel good? I’d thought that at first, but the more I was around him, the more I realized it was much more than sex between us. We had something in common, were kindred spirits in a way.