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Brooke winks. “Anytime, baby sis.”

I shake my head, but a small smile tugs at my lips. This is just how Brooke is—blunt, a little judgy, but always looking out for me in her own way.

Bri stretches her arms over her head before checking the scoreboard. “Alright, alright, enough about Bella’s biker boyfriend. Time to focus. I’ve got a game to win.”

I roll my eyes. “You mean a game tolose.”

“Pfft.” Bri grabs her bowling ball, winks, and struts toward the lane like she’s about to throw a perfect strike.

She doesn’t. The ball veers off to the side, barely knocking down three pins. Brooke and I laugh our asses off.

Bri spins around, scowling. “This lane isrigged.”

Brooke wipes a fake tear from her eye. “Oh my God, I love watching you fail.”

Bri flips us both off before grabbing her ball again.

I shake my head, laughing softly as I reach for my phone to check the time, but instead, I see a new text from Jax.

Jax:Need to talk to you about something important.

I frown, my stomach tightening.

Me:Talk when we get home?

Instead of texting back, my phone starts ringing.

I answer immediately. “Hey. Everything okay?”

Jax sighs on the other end, and that alone makes my chest feel tight. “Baby, I gotta go out of town tonight.”

I sit up straighter, my fingers gripping my phone. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

There’s a pause, then another heavy sigh. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

I close my eyes, my jaw tightening. Ihatethis part. The secrecy. The club business that I’ll never be fully part of.

“Well, do you know when you’ll be back?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I have no idea,” he admits. “It should only be a day or two. I’ll call you when I know more.”

A cold, uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. “Did something happen?” I ask, my voice quieter now.

Jax is silent for a few beats too long, and sounds irritated that he’s answering my questions. “It’s just club business, Bella. Nothing you need to worry about.”

I shake my head. “That’s not an answer.”

“I know.” His voice is softer now, almost apologetic. “I just need you to trust me, baby.”

I do. That’s not the problem. The problem is, trust doesn’t make the pit in my stomach disappear. It doesn’t make the worry go away. But I know pushing him won’t do anything. He’s already made up his mind.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“I’ll call you when I can,” he says. “Stay home. Be safe. I love you.”

My throat tightens. “Love you too.”

The call ends, and I just sit there, staring at my phone, trying to shake the uneasy feeling settling deep in my chest.

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