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“I do,” I say with a sigh. “But, Soul, you drew the line in the sand when you kept pushing me away from club business. You don’t get to pick and choose anymore what I know or don’t know. I’m done being at the club’s beck and call. Lock and Fort can handle the intel for you moving forward. It’ll be a clean break for all of us.”
“That’s not what I want. I want to know you’re safe and that you’re not going to get yourself killed.” Soul stands and walks over to me, pulling me to my feet. “I want you to come home and be with your family. I love you, Jez,” he says softly.
“I love you, too.” Unshed tears burn my eyes. “I’ll still come to the clubhouse to see everyone, but in a familial capacity, not as your hacker. I’ve had one foot inside the club and one out for too long. It’s time for me to live my own life.”
“I can't shut down my protective instincts, Jez," Soul confesses. “I'll try not to interfere with your life, but you’d better call me if you need help going forward."
I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. He's trying to compromise in his alpha-dominating way, and knowing how hard that is for him, I appreciate it.
"Fine, if I need help with something that my team and I can't handle, I'll let you know."
Never hurts to have extra backup. After reevaluating my encounter with McCormick, I really could’ve used it.
“But know that my acceptance doesn’t mean I have to like any of this,” he says, a hint of frustration remaining in his tone.
I roll my eyes. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”
Soul pulls me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head.
“We have church Friday night,” he says as he lets me go. “Come and hang out with everyone. I’d like you to be there. All of you.”
Even though I want my independence, I should come clean about Hellfire Hackers. It affects more than just me, though. I need to discuss it with my team and gauge their thoughts on the matter. I lock eyes with Phantom, and he seems to understand my internal struggle and slightly nods.
“We’ll be there.”
Grim and Malice stand to leave. While he remains at my side on the couch, Demon also leans closer to Phantom. I’m guessing the shift is subconscious, but it’s a move that doesn’t go unnoticed.
Malice sneers in their direction. “You like dick now, little brother?”
Demon leaps up, his eyes dark with anger. “Would that be so bad?”
“And that’s our cue to leave.”
Soul tries to grab Malice’s arm, but Malice yanks out of his grip. They stare one another down, and as I watch them, I hear Phantom whisper something to Jez, but I can’t make out the words.
“Soul,” Jez begins, walking toward her twin. “Why don’t you and Grim wait outside? I think it’s about time Malice and Demon have a come to Jesus conversation.”
Soul frowns, his worry crease so damn prominent, but after a few seconds, he jerks a nod.
“Come on, Grim,” he signs to the biggest man in the room.
The two of them leave, and I have no doubt they’ll be waiting just outside on the porch. Then Jez moves to grab Phantom’s arm.
“Let’s give them some time,” she says, and they head upstairs.
Once my brother and I are alone, the air seems to leave the room. Sweat beads on my forehead and slides down my spine. My stomach twists to the point of pain, and my heart—the fucking traitor—splinters at the fury in Malice’s eyes.
When I can’t stand the suffocating silence a second longer, I demand, “Would that be so fucking bad?”
He flinches as if I punched him and drops to the couch. “I…”
“You what?” I say, my tone cold and emotionless.
“Dammit, Mark!” he shouts.
“It’s Demon,Paul.”
I begin to pace, needing to burn off some of the energy threatening to eat me alive. Malice tracks my steps, his eyes glued to my feet.