Page 10 of Dutch

"Yo, you hear this, lil' sis? This is real music." Malakai grinned and turned up the stereo.

Jahlil grinned. "Yeah, but “Candy Rain,” that's my shit."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, y'all are stuck in the past."

Jahlil laughed. "Nah, baby girl, we're teaching you about your roots."

Malakai ruffled my hair, which pissed me off and caused me to swat at him. "Don't worry. You'll catch up to us soon."

Jahlil and I sat with our arms pressed together as we chilled, listening to music, and I felt loved and safe.

I blinked, and the memory shattered. I was back in this hellhole of a club, gripping my glass like a lifeline, and my throat burned. I couldn't tell if it was from unshed tears or the sting ofthe bourbon. Still, I threw back the rest of the bourbon, trying to pull myself together.

I flagged down a server suddenly in need of another bourbon. After I gave her my order, I wondered if I would have held on tighter if I'd known the outcome ahead of time.

My memory shifted again, and the smell of gunpowder hung in the air. It was putrid, but also a metallic smell overtook me as I heard sirens in the background.

"Malakai, Jahlil where are you?" I screamed.

I stumbled through our hangout. Then I saw him, Malakai, lying on the ground. He wasn't moving.

"No! No!" I cried, dropping to my knees. Blood covered his white tee, and it spread like red ink. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see me.

I whipped around to see Jahlil leaning up against a wall, clutching his side. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"You did this?" I screamed as the pieces clicked into place. Betrayal hit me harder than a physical blow.

"No, I didn't mean?—"

But I was backing away. "Don't you dare!" I spat out.

The server set the bourbon in front of me, and the club came back into focus. I blinked hard, trying to shake the memory.

"Thank you," I stated, hoping I hadn't looked like a weirdo.

The weight of my choices settled on my shoulders. The MC world was one I couldn't escape. I thought I was done, but here I was knee-deep again.Would I ever be free of this, or would it always have its hooks in my back?

My eyes drifted around the club, landing on Dutch. That man was fine in all his glory with his broad shoulders and hazel eyes. Even as he talked to his crew, I swore I could feel the weight of his glare from here.

I sipped my drink in order to ignore the flutter between my legs, but I knew better. That man was trouble. That was thekicker, though. I craved danger, and Dutch was a perfect storm — powerful, potentially devastating, and beautiful.

I could hear my mama's voice now."Girl, you're playing with fire."

Maybe I liked getting burned.I smirked.

I knew it was bullshit, though. I'd been burned before, and those scars ran deep. Could I trust that Dutch was built differently? Could I trust myself?

He threw his head back and laughed at something funny someone said. His baritone carried from across the room and pulled me in like a tick on a dog on a hot summer night.

"Fuck." I closed my eyes. When had my feelings for Dutch gone from complicated to whatever this was? I opened my eyes, and he was looking at me. There was an intensity that scared the hell out of me, but it also made me feel seen in a way I hadn't been in a long time.

What are you doing, girl? You're an independent woman, remember?I asked myself, tracing the rim of my glass. Dutch walked toward me, and the butterflies in my stomach kicked into overdrive. I attempted to put on my best 'I don't give a fuck' face.

Dutch slid into a seat beside me. "Hey, trouble."

I arched an eyebrow. "Uh, that's supposed to be my line."

Dutch grinned, and damn if it didn't make me weak. "Should I leave?" he questioned.

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