Jace didn’t interrupt me. He just simply listened. It was becoming obvious he was very good at that, so I looked back at him.
“What about you?” I asked.
“What about me?” He shrugged.
“You don’t strike me as someone who accidentally woke up wearing an Iron Vipers cut,” I said, and that earned a laugh.
“No. I joined when I was 19,” he said.
“Seriously?” I asked.
“My father was a member.” He nodded.
“So you inherited the family business?” I asked.
“Something like that,” he said, and he rested his coffee on the table.
“My dad died when I was 20,” he said.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“He taught me that loyalty matters. The club helped my mom after he passed. They made sure we never struggled,” he said.
“So that’s why you stayed?” I frowned.
“It wasn’t about motorcycles. It was about peopl
