Page 99 of 12 Months of Mayhem

And there was no doubt he was feeling the pressure of their scrutiny.

“All right, we’re done here,” he finally announced, throwing his hand in the air. “Let’s fucking go.”

Yeah.

Let’s fucking go, Dime.

Let’s fucking go.

CHAPTER SIX

Calli

We were less than an hour from pulling into Kingston, and my body was stiff from sitting in the cab for so long. Two days of driving, two days of back-to-back miles stretching out endlessly, with nothing but the occasional gas station stop to break the monotony.

Thankfully, most of it had been by myself. Shay had hopped between riding with Dad and me, her chatter keeping things lively when she was in the passenger seat. Missy and Kadey had taken their own vehicle, probably to save themselves from Shay’s playlist, which leaned heavily toward early 2000s pop that she sang at the top of her lungs.

Shay and I had taken turns driving her SUV down, packed to the brim with camping gear for the club to survive on for the next week or so out here in the heat.

But I guess that’s why they called it Scorch because nobody escaped without feeling the burn.

I sure hadn’t.

Usually, I didn’t mind driving alone, but the long hours with only my thoughts for company had a way of wearing me down.

Was I really ready to face this place again?

Would Mason be there?

Would I still have the same feelings for him that I felt before?

Those can’t eat, can’t sleep, need to be near him or I’ll die, kind of feelings. Or was that just some teenage crush blown out of proportion by time and distance?

It felt like both a lifetime ago and just yesterday that I’d last seen him. His smirk had been burned into my memory, equal parts infuriating and intoxicating. I used to think it was love—or something dangerously close to it—but now I wasn’t so sure.

Maybe it wasn’t love at all. Maybe it was just one big mistake, and that night, when I thought I was doing the right thing, maybe I’d ruined it forever.

Shay shifted beside me, breaking into my thoughts as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone. “You’ve been real quiet the past hour,” she said, glancing at me. “Deep thoughts or just zoning out?”

“Zoning out,” I lied.

She smirked. “You’re such a terrible liar. What are you thinking about? Or let me guess…” She pursed her lips and tapped her forehead. “Adrian?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t answer, which was all the confirmation she needed.

“Thought so,” she said with a triumphant grin. “So, are you gonna admit I was right yet?”

“Right about what?” I asked, though I already knew where this was heading.

“About Adrian,” she said, drawing out his name like it was some kind of punchline. “About how he’s not it. You’re not fooling anyone, Calli. Least of all me.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, itching to get the hell out of this car so I didn’t have to face up to the problems I’d created all on my own. “Maybe it’s just… an adjustment period. He’s not used to all of this, and neither am I. It doesn’t mean it can’t work.”

Shay gave me a pointed look, one eyebrow arched. “Calli, you’ve spent your whole life surrounded by this. The club, the chaos, the family. You grew up in it. You live and breathe it. And you’re telling me Adrian, Mr. Buttoned-Up Banker, is gonna fit into that?”

“People adapt,” I shot back, though the words sounded hollow even to me. “He’s trying.”

“Sure,” Shay said with a shrug. “But are you? Or are you just trying to convince yourself this is what you want?”

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