Chapter Twelve

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Allie had a bad feeling about this.

It wasn't just the worn building that looked like it had seen better days. It wasn't just the neon sign with three of its lights burnt out. It wasn't just the cracked pavement covering the parking lot. It wasn't just the long white sign hanging at the front of the building advertising 10 cent wings on Tuesdays. It was just...all of it.

And yet, she was getting out of her car and trailing after Jax, Opie, and Bobby to head inside.

The three Reaper cuts moved purposefully through the parking lot, but the only one who seemed to be taking careful inventory of the whole place - other than her - was Bobby. Jax and Opie were too distracted by the potential of this deal to see anything else, and they sauntered through the parking lot like a pair of kings. It seemed they'd already made up their minds, sight unseen. That was going to be a problem.

It had been about a week since their last business meeting like this, which, incidentally, was also the last time she'd seen Jax. Since he left her house, their contact had been through text messages, starting with Jax telling her about this potential deal. When it came time to actually talk through the details, Bobby had been the one to call her and walk her through everything they'd been able to find out ahead of time. That was fine. It was better this way, anyway, if they kept their distance. Jax being in her house, eating dinner with her, sitting on her patio, the conversation they'd had, the real reason why he'd gotten suspended all those years ago...it felt like they'd crossed some kind of invisible line. It was too personal, too intimate, especially given the nature of what their relationship to each other was supposed to be.

So, for now, she was happy to trail behind him and avoid eye contact for as long as possible.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, and she mindlessly reached for it, mostly just to double-check that she'd really silenced it. One glance at the text message and her phone was flying back inside her purse.

Please, Allie, the text message read. I'd really like to talk about this. Can I call you tonight?

Sure, now Anna wanted to have a conversation over the phone. The phone that Allie had probably paid for. Text messages were just too impersonal now. They had to have a real conversation now that Anna had been cut off.

It was hard not to respond with anything laced with bitterness or sympathy. She didn't want to exacerbate the issue and certainly didn't want to do anything to escalate it. One word responses were the best she could do. If she engaged any further, she worried she'd give in. So far, so good though. After taking Jax's advice and moving her cash from her bedroom to a drawer in her kitchen, and investing in a can of pepper spray, she was still standing firm. A week later, she still had that flag planted in the ground.

Jax was right. Anna's only concern was for herself, and she was just going to keep using Allie's guilt against her for as long as she let her. Because that's what users do, he'd told her.

Those words had hit hard. She'd needed to hear them, but that didn't make them any easier to hear.

With her phone safely tucked back inside her purse, she could just focus on this meeting right now and worry about responding later when she got back to her office. She straightened her silk leopard skirt - this California heat was making it stick to the back of her legs in a really uncomfortable way, given her present company - and she let it flare out a little where it hit right below her knee to move some air around. She'd kept it more casual today and paired the skirt with a plain white T-shirt tucked inside. Against her better judgment, she'd also decided to wear a black bralette underneath - the T-shirt wasn't exactly transparent, but it was thin enough to make it clear just what color her bra was to anyone looking. And as Jax held the door open for her so she could enter the building, his eyes flicked right to her chest, like he was in the middle of deciphering just that very thing.

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