Page 35 of Property of Fang
“Fuck’s sake, Jenna. You were supposed to stayundetected,” he snarls. “Not put yourself in the fucking spotlight.”
Yeah, I’m fine, Dad. Thanks for the concern.
“Do they knowwhoyou are?”
I scrub the image of Mary-Beth from my mind’s eye with the heel of my hand. “No. I don’t think so.”Fuck.“I’m not sure.”
He draws a deep breath. “How did you get the phone?”
“Mutual friends.”
“Wait. Where are you now?” Suspicion lines the edges of his words.
I lift my gaze to the house. “In between places.”
“But you’re still in the pipeline?”
“I was rescued, along with the other girls.”
“By who?” He sounds as though he can’t believe anyone would do such a thing.
I swallow hard, thumbnail biting deep enough to sting. “The Kings of Anarchy.”
It wouldn’t surprise me if he hung up. I was taught pretty quickly that those “crowned fuckers” can’t be trusted. Their club is the sworn enemy of my father’s. At least to the club he used to belong to.
“Fuck, Jenna. Donottrust them,” he growls. “The line’s probably bugged, for fuck’s sake.”
Like that thought hadn’t crossed my mind already. “Then you better watch what you say.”
“Theydon’t know who you are either?”
“Nobody does. I’m just some girl that got caught up in the mess, same as they did.”
“Right.” The line goes quiet again, yet his tumbling thoughts are almost palpable. “You’re a strong girl, Jenna. You know that, right?”
This feels loaded. “Sometimes.”
“I need you to get yourself back inside the operation.”
“Are you serious?” My voice rises an octave. “What the hell for?”
“I take it that phone you called me on has a camera?”
“Pretty sure they all do, these days, Dad.”
“Then use it.” The line goes dead.
I drop the phone into my lap and fight the heavy ball that grows in my throat.He’s not worth getting upset over.It was only supposed to take a few months. Get a job at a known hotspot and keep my eyes and ears open until I gleaned enough information to undo this mess. I made a promise to myself—a lie—that I’d be careful. That I’d get out at the first sign of trouble. Then things grew complicated, and before I could question it, I knew too much.
I didn’t get a clear signal of danger until they pulled Mary-Beth’s hood off, and then I knew it was all on.
I either got out dead or alive. And whichever way I went, she’d go the opposite.
And now he wants me to go back in.
“Fuck.” I toss the phone onto the dirt as though it burns, rubbing my palms on the rough fabric of my worn jeans.
He doesn’t care about you. This was always all for him.What the hell do I do now?I have a father who wants me to put myself at risk purely to do what he was incapable of, and a club that gives me sanctuary that would slit my throat if they knew my lineage.
