Page 29 of Damascus & The Wildfire
“What came of the reporter that Kenna spoke to?”
Thane shrugged. “No word, no story, nothing. Kenna did her job. Shut that shit down. Probably helps that when the reporter dug up Jag’s phone number, he told her he only had one thing to say on the record, and that was she could go fuck herself.”
I chuckled. As insane as Serpent and Jag were, I liked them. “Sure that went over well.”
“Sure it did. Hoity-toity reporter didn’t know how to respond. Run that quote in your goddamn newspaper. Hiring a PR consultant was a damn good move for us. Kenna and Eva have kept our shit out of the headlines—except when they’re featuring some good deed they seem to think is gold.”
I nodded. “They bringing reporters to the anniversary party?”
“Maybe. It’s a public event. Everyone has to be on their best behavior, at least until the afterparty. Kenna mentioned offering an exclusive to one of the beat reporters who likes to write about Texas history. Eva backed her on the idea. Thinks it’s another way to put us and the club businesses in a positive light.”
“You going to do it?”
Thane shrugged. “Kenna told the reporter she needs to review the questions first. Apparently, that’s not something they’re fond of, so they’re at an impasse. But I’m the fucking president, and the reporter won’t want to run the story without talking to me. No questions, no interview.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, needing to move the subject away from Kenna. Thane was too observant and would start digging into what was happening between us if given the chance. “You see theheadlines about the Jackals this morning? They pulled a woman from her car. Kid was still strapped in the back seat when they took off.”
“I heard on the radio that a girl was robbed at the grocery store last week,” Hatchet added.
“The business line’s been ringing off the hook. And not just businesses. Got a call for security at a goddamn family reunion. People are scared.”
Thane’s jaw tightened. “Fuck. I’m going to greenlight Kenna’s little self-defense class idea. You and a few other guys can teach the basics.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “You serious?”
He nodded, eyes hard. “Yeah. Shit’s getting worse out there. If the cops can’t keep up, we do what we can for our own. Kenna’s right—women need to know how to fight back, or at least buy themselves a few seconds. They should be able to go to the store in the middle of the day without worrying.”
“Fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “I’ll talk to the guys and work with Kenna and Eva to set something up. ”
Inside, my thoughts spun like tires in black clay. The city was changing, and not for the better. The Jackals became more bold and unpredictable by the day. The random violence creeping into the corners of our city served as a reminder that not every outlaw revered loyalty or honor, and they certainly didn’t value women.
If this gang didn’t stop soon, I’d be taking matters into my own hands.
Chapter Eleven
When Kenna texted the group saying she needed to visit downtown for an appointment, I volunteered first to shadow her. Of course, part of it was pure selfishness. I wanted her attention, and the thought of one of the other guys spending the day with her shot a pang of jealousy through my gut.
I’d never been the settling-down type. Never thought I’d want to be. But Kenna? She’d made me wonder if I could one day be the type of guy who committed for more than a night.
On top of it all, I was cursed with a competitive streak. Every man in the club looked at Kenna like she was the grand prize. I wanted her to choose me, even if I didn’t know what the hell I’d do if she actually did.
Kenna walked out of her house in a sundress as I pulled up on my Harley, twirling keys in her hand. “We’re taking my car.”
Disappointment coursed through me at missing the heat of her body pressed against mine on the back of my bike. “Will you at least let me drive?”
She considered it for a moment. “Nope,” she said, popping the P. “We have to pick up some kids’ games for the party.”
I shrugged off my cut and folded it, gently placing it in the back seat before jumping in shotgun. Kenna settled in the driver’s seat and started the engine.
I knew from the file Linc pulled together before she started working for the club that she’d never worried about scraping together enough money to pay for rent or groceries. Her trust fund meant she’d never need to work a day in her life. It was a parachute she could pull at any time if things got too rough.
Me? I’d been free-falling my whole life. No safety net, no backup plan. Just a fucked-up life fueled by hustle and desperation, always one bad call from losing it all. Part of me wanted to resent her for it. For having everything handed to her. For never having to fight for a damn thing. But she never acted better than any of us. If anything, it seemed like she was searching for connection in all the chaos.
“Where are we headed?” I asked, toggling through her playlists on the screen.
“First, I need to pick out paper for the invites, and then the best part of the day—cake tasting.” Contagious excitement rolled off Kenna in waves.
I raised a brow. “This feels oddly like wedding planning. I’m going to regret volunteering for this, aren’t I?”
