Evelyn's dream of securing a scholarship to America's top ballet school shattered when her mother was brutally murdered during her teenage years. Determined to make a difference, she became a detective, ready to take on the world. Assigned to invest...
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"Meeting in the temple in five minutes," Jax growled, his voice low and sharp. Behind him, Mr Wilson followed with a smirk that crawled across his face like it owned the room. Jeremiah felt the irritation radiating from his leader, thick enough to taste, and answered only with a curt nod. The kitchen hummed with voices, the smell of cooked meat and spices mingling with the faint metallic tang of knives against cutting boards. Bikers sat around, talking, laughing, eating a late lunch that somehow felt like background noise against the storm brewing in the room. Jeremiah leaned against the counter, knife in hand, chopping vegetables for the dinner party Jax had tasked him with days ago. Wyatt slid up beside him, fingers grazing utensils and spices as if testing boundaries.
"I can't believe that man," Wyatt hissed, squeezing a carrot so hard it cracked beneath his grip. He picked up a knife and chopped with precise, harsh strokes, the crunch echoing against the tile.
"He made me and Jax turn the medic house upside down! Has he lost it? Thinking we're hiding drugs there?!" Jeremiah's lips twitched.
"Well... it is a medical house, and you do have drugs," he said, letting the words hang like a trap. Wyatt's head snapped around so fast it might have dislocated something, eyes blazing like fire. Jeremiah couldn't hold back a laugh, raising his hands in surrender.
"I'm just kidding," he said, though the dead-white knuckles of Wyatt's hands showed how close the man had been to snapping. Wyatt exhaled sharply, the tension in his broad chest vibrating through the kitchen.
"Yeah, I have drugs," Wyatt muttered, still gripping the carrot.
"but not the kind he's looking for. Did he bother you?" Jeremiah nodded toward the counter.
"Mmhm... first thing this morning," he said. His fingers traced the knife's edge, moving almost automatically as he recalled the chaos: Wilson rifling through every drawer, peering into every corner, as if suspicion itself had a smell and he could sniff it out. Jax had looked like he wanted to rip the man apart, teeth bared, hands twitching already at that point.
"Pain in the ass, Rude... Narcissistic, everything that's wrong in one man," he muttered. Jeremiah caught the hint of hunger and remembered not to comment on the vegetable, the doctor would probable use the knife he held.
"I don't know how Evelyn keeps her cool around him," Wyatt continued, shifting to peer over his shoulder, eyes scanning for any hint of the man's presence. Jeremiah felt it too, a prickle, a tension down to his bones. Something was off.
"She doesn't I guess," Wyatt said, voice low and venomous.
"But that snake? He threatened her. Keeps her in line. Makes her dance on strings like a marionette" The words dripped poison, and Jeremiah felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Wyatt always read people right.
