Page 63 of Property of Tacoma

That comment makes my stomach drop.

Am I making a huge mistake being here?

Am I coming between Tacoma’s club and the Saints?

“I’m not trying to cause problems,” I say, my voice smaller now.

“Well, you are. So get your shit together and come home. Now.”

Angry tears burn in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. “No.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“I said no.” I clench my jaw. “You need to back the hell off.”

The sound of glass breaking is audible over the line. “Cali?—”

“No, Mason. I’m done with this conversation.”

I hang up before he can respond, then throw my phone across the bed.

“Shit!” I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, but it’s too late. The tears I’ve been fighting spill over, leaving hot tracks down my cheeks.

He’s such a fucking asshole!

I fall back onto the pillow and blow out a breath.

What if he’s right?

What if seeing Tacoma does cause issues with their clubs?

The thought makes more tears come, and I cover my eyes with the back of my arm. Panda scurries back up and nudges me with his nose, making concerned little sounds.

I don’t hear the bedroom door open, but suddenly the mattress dips, and strong arms wrap around me.

“Angel? What’s wrong?”

I lift my arm to find Tacoma sitting beside me, his blue eyes dark with concern. He reaches up and wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

“Nothing,” I say automatically, then shake my head. “Everything. I don’t know.”

“Talk to me, baby.” His voice is gentle, patient.

I take a shuddering breath. “I finally called my brother back.”

Tacoma’s jaw tightens slightly. “I take it that didn’t go well.”

“That’s putting it mildly.” I wipe at my cheeks with the back of my hand. “He’s pissed that I’m still here. Says I’m going to cause problems between the clubs.”

Tacoma sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “Yeah, about that...”

My brows pull together. “What?”

“Your brother called me the other night. After we... well, after I brought you back here”

My mouth falls open. “He called you? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he says, his expression serious. “He wasn’t happy.”