He reached down and took the container I was holding, siting it on the coffee table among the others.

“We’ll eat when we get back. I need to go pick up my sister, and you’re tagging along. Come on. Up.” He grabbed on to the underside of my arm and started pulling me off the couch.

“What—”

“Need you to come with me,” he repeated, cutting me off. His voice vibrated with meaning.

I spun around, which pulled me out of his hold, flattened my hand on his chest, and pressed firm, halting him. Then I stared up into his eyes and saw they were also conveying a sudden urgency, matching his voice.

I didn’t understand any of it.

“Why do I need to go with you?” I asked, needing to know a reason before I went anywhere, especially anywhere with him.

Jamie’s jaw clenched.

I wondered if he was craving another cigarette, looking as stressed as he was looking, and that prompted me to say my next words.

“I’ll go,” I assured him. “I just wanna know why you need me. And I think it’s a fair question. I don’t know your sister.”

Jamie exhaled a breath, nodding once.

“Right,” he began. “She’s at a bar gettin’ hit on by a bunch of shitheads she don’t wanna be gettin’ hit on by, considerin’ they’re dudes and she ain’t into dudes, expressed that to them, and they’re still hittin’ on her and bein’ persistent about it. She’s had one too many and can’t drive home. Needs me. Thinkin’ if I walk in there and see what I’m expectin’ to see, I might lay a few motherfuckers out in front of people who could catch it on camera or call the cops, and that can’t happen. I got sponsors I can’t lose. They see me fightin’ or doin’ shit they don’t like, they drop me. This is where you come in.”

I wet my lips, letting all of that information sink in, which took me a few seconds considering the amount of information he’d shared.

“Okay,” I started when I was finished processing. “But I’m still not seeing what that has to do with me.”

“You’re there? I’m gonna be less inclined to spend a night in jail, considerin’ that option leaves you alone for them to feed on next,” he explained.

I blinked at him.

Oh.

Huh.

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, or how to feel hearing it. I mean, it was kind of sweet and protective, him wanting to get to his sister and also his strange reasoning for including me in this plan, and Jamie wasn’t those things.

I was sure of it.

So I said the only thing I could think of in that moment without acknowledging other feelings.

“Jail’s bad,” I whispered.

Jamie’s eyes flickered wider after I spoke. His brows lifted. Then his mouth started twitching.

My mouth started twitching, too. I couldn’t explain that, but I let it happen.

“Get your keys,” he ordered. “We’re takin’ your car.”

Chapter Six

JAMIE

Legs was glaring at me.

My eyes were on the road, but I could feel that glare aimed directly at my profile, and although I hadn’t looked to confirm, I knew she was giving me her best shit and putting everything she had into that glare.

She was pissed. Maybe more pissed than usual, if that was even possible.

This was because instead of arguing with her over who was driving us to pick up my sister—an argument she was pushing for by not handing over the keys to her Volvo when we stepped outside and handing over her attitude instead, doing this while keeping the keys held behind her back—I charged at her and picked her ass up, locking her arms behind her so she couldn’t fight me and leaving her vulnerable. Then I opened her hand with one of mine and pried the keys easily away from her while she ran off at the mouth.

That was the first thing that set her off.

After getting what I wanted, I carried her squirming body over to the passenger side of the car, not trusting her to get there herself anymore considering what all had just gone down and her reaction to it, swung the door open while keeping hold of her with one arm, and then deposited her into the seat, where she was currently sulking.

I was pretty certain that sequence of events pushed her over the edge.

That was ten minutes ago.

Now she was giving me the silent treatment while most likely plotting my death.

I didn’t give a shit about the death plotting, but the silent treatment was starting to piss me off. I’d tried initiating conversation three times now and each time was met with nothing.

“You wanna listen to somethin’?” I’d asked, adjusting the volume on the radio and filling the car with some whiny chick shit I didn’t recognize but knew I could handle about five seconds of before tuning it to something else.

Turned out, I wouldn’t need the five seconds.

Tori didn’t answer me. Instead, she crossed her arms under her chest and stared out the window. I cut the radio off.

“Goin’ to Hammerjacks. That’s where Quinn is. You ever been?”

I turned my head when I was greeted with silence and watched Tori cross her one leg over the other and start toeing the air with vigor and deep concentration, like she was harnessing all her energy into that one movement so she wouldn’t lunge out of her seat and attack me.

I ignored her fit and looked back to the road.

“I’m in the mood to watch a movie while we eat. You feelin’ that?”