Page 27 of Irrevocably

I force a smile. “Oh, I’m fine. Just … tired. College, the usual stuff.”

Dad is watching from his chair. I’m not the only one who’s tired from the looks of things. There are dark circles under his eyes, and a grim cast to his mouth, which is nothing out of the ordinary for Dad. But given everything that’s happened, I’m now wondering if his expression has something to do with the conversation he was just having with Wolf before I came in.

“Hey, Dad,” I say, forcing my smile wider.

He nods and gives one of his usual grunts of acknowledgement, then pushes himself out of his chair. “Going to bed,” he says. “I’ll leave you kids to talk.”

It’s too early for bed, but I don’t say anything as he leaves the room. He can’t be here while I have this conversation anyway.

Wolf is still frowning at me, and I hope I haven’t missed a spot of blood. But he only says, “Sit. I’ll get you some hot tea.”

I’m in no mood to argue. I’m cold and my legs still feel weak, and sitting down with a cup of hot tea sounds like bliss. So I let him make me tea and a few minutes later, I’m on the couch, my mug steaming on the coffee table in front of me, while I try to figure out how to broach the topic of his club.

He settles himself in the armchair nearby and before I can say a word, he asks, “What’s with the lie about being tired?” His dark eyes are very direct. “Something’s fucking happened, and don’t bother denying it, Addie. I know you, remember?”

I swallow. That’s old friends for you. They know when you’re talking shit, but at least he’s given me an idea about how to approach this subject. The best lie is as close to the truth as you can manage, right?

“Yeah, okay.” I lean forward and pick up my mug. The tea is peppermint, fresh and clean-tasting, and it settles the sick feeling in my stomach. “Uh … well … I heard a rumour today. About the club.”

Wolf’s eyes narrow. “A rumour? What rumour?”

I take another sip of tea to moisten my dry mouth. “Someone said that the club controls a gun-running operation at the port or something. And that Dad just lets it happen.”

“Uh-huh. And who told you that?” The question is casual almost, as if he’s heard that rumour a thousand times before, yet there’s tension in his voice.

I remember asking Wolf about his father once, after we reconnected in high school, and he went tense like this. He didn’t want to talk about his home life, not the way he used to when we were little, and I know he doesn’t want to talk about this, either. My stomach drops away.

“It’s true, isn’t it?” I ignore his question, the sick feeling in my gut getting worse.

He lets out a breath, his dark eyes softening slightly. “You know I can’t talk about club business with you, Addie.”

No, I know he can’t. When he dropped out of high school to become a club prospect, I tried to have a talk with him about it, tried to tell him that dropping out of high school was a really bad idea, etc. He only smiled at me like he knew something I didn’t and told me the club was the family he’d never had, and that’s all he was going to say about it. So, that’s how I left it.

But I’m cold now and getting colder. “Tell me.” My voice is sharper than I intended. “You’re my friend and Dad is the chief of police, and I want to know if you’re both breaking the law.”

Wolf leans back in the armchair, his long, powerful legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. He’s aiming for completely relaxed, but I know he’s not. There’s still tension in his shoulders, and his mouth has thinned. “There’s always hundreds of fucking rumours about the club flying around. Why are you getting your panties in a twist about this one?”

He’s not wrong, there have always been rumours about the club. That they run strings of prostitutes, deal drugs with the Mexican cartels, kidnap kids to become prospects, the works. I’ve never believed any of them, because I thought that if any of them were true, then Dad would have rounded up all the members of the club and put them in jail.

But maybe I’ve been naïve. Maybe that’s what I wanted to believe, because I couldn’t stand the thought of my friend and my father being involved in anything shady.

“Because it involves Dad,” I say. “I don’t want people saying he isn’t doing his job properly.” I take another sip of tea, my icy fingers curled around the porcelain. “And I’m worried for you.”

Wolf gazes at me for a long moment, then he shifts, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “Look, don’t worry about me,” he says easily. “I’m fine. It’s all good. And Elias does a great job. Everyone in town knows it.”

“So, how do you make your money, then?” I can’t let this go. “Harleys are expensive.”

“We’ve got the workshop.” He means the car and motorbike repair shop that he works at and is run by the club. “It makes good money.”

“Enough to keep you in beer and women and expensive bikes?”

“Addie.” His tone is a soft warning. “We don’t discuss club business with civilians. I told you that. And you’re a civilian.”

“So is Dad, but you discuss it with him.” The words come out before I can stop them.

Wolf says nothing, just looks at me.

“Oh, come on,” I insist. “You both go silent whenever I walk into the room, then one of you changes the subject.”