Emma
Jake stared at his phone so long I thought he’d forgotten I was standing beside him.
“Jake?”
He locked the screen.
That scared me more than anything on it could have.
“What’s wrong?”
He rubbed a hand over his beard. “Mack’s name is on the payment list.”
I blinked. “Our Mack?”
“Twenty grand. Six years ago.”
I knew Mack as the man who kept chocolate bars in his toolbox and complained that modern motorcycles had too many computers. He’d been kind to me from the beginning, even when the other brothers weren’t sure whether bringing Derek Blackwell’s wife into the clubhouse was a good idea.
“Maybe there’s an explanation.”
“There’s going to be.”
Jake reached for his cut.
I caught his wrist.
“Please don’t go in there assuming he’s guilty.”
He looked at me, and something in his
