CHAPTER NINE

 

Seven decided when Victoria first closed on her house that the best part about having a best friend with a cutesy house was that it made for a terrific crash pad to talk about cutesy things. Or when Mayhem life became too dark or heavy with requests she wouldn't touch, she liked to hide at Victoria's place. That same cutesy house could take the edge off of ugly topics. Anything unpleasant was made entirely bearable by Victoria's lemony-yellow wall color and white wainscoting.

She'd made sure that Sidney had more than adequate help this afternoon at work. Extra hands coupled with the miserable weather meant her coffee shop would see less foot traffic. Normally, that was a complaint, but today, it was a great thing. Hawke had laid down the law and demanded that she go to Colombia. Seven couldn't fold enough hand towels at The Perky Cup or blankets at her home to feel in control of that situation.

So she'd done what anyone in her position would do. She'd grabbed her girlfriend Adelia, nabbed an obscene amount of cookies, and banged on her friend's door. Victoria had cleared her schedule for the afternoon and promised to be there when Seven and Adelia arrived, ready to offer no-bullshit advice after Seven had texted four simple words. I need my passport.

That had been followed by a slew of texts that summarized how she wanted to strangle Hawke.

"We're here. Anyone home? Life crisis occurring," Seven hollered as she inhaled the rich aroma of coffee. "Is Ryder here too? Ryder! I'm having a moment."

His laughter filtered from the kitchen, and Seven had no idea if that was good or bad. Maybe he shouldn't be involved. The Delta sniper man was no holds barred, like his wife. A Victoria-Ryder combo delivering the straight truth might have been more than Seven could stomach as the clock ticked down to boarding an international flight to drug-dealer dreamland.

"I'm up here," Victoria called from upstairs.

"Your husband is laughing at me."

"Lovingly," he added, laughing harder.

"I'm headed to a cartel-infested country. Where's the compassion?" Seven started up the stairs as Adelia chuckled. "Not you too."

"No drama here. Seven is totally handling this fine."

"I don't even want to know how you'll fare." Ryder's Australian accent was deceptively alarming. "Good luck. Nice knowing you."

Seven laughed to herself as they trudged up the stairs. "What a little Aussie ass."

"Shoot." Victoria shoved the last of her sheets into the linen closet and slammed the door shut. "You got here before I thought you would."

Seven rolled her eyes. "Jeez, things must be worse than I thought they were if you're shoving laundry into a closet before I get here."

"Shut your face, sweetheart. You know it's not like that."

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

"Okay, fine. But wouldn't this conversation be easier if I didn't have unfolded laundry for Seven to stare at instead of focusing on important things?" She looked at Adelia. "Right? We're here to talk some of this out. Figure out how you're going to stay sane and safe. Just swing by Colombia and come on back. It's a lovely place to visit. A couple nice spas…"

Right. That was what she'd be doing—visiting a spa. Had she been to a spa before? No. Not unless they could dye or pierce her, and then they wouldn't be called a spa.

Adelia walked past both of them and leaned against the wall. "It's ridiculous that Hawke wants you to go down there. You're not Johnny's babysitter."

Victoria headed toward her bedroom. "Are we sure that's the point?"

They moved into the master bedroom, where Seven sprawled in the middle of the king-size bed and Victoria paced at the foot. Adelia crisscrossed her legs in a side chair and pulled a blanket that had been draped over the top around her.

Whether Adelia was cold or not, Seven didn't care. She was just glad that the one folded blanket in the room was now unfolded and wrapped around her friend. Because it hadn't been folded the way Seven would've wanted it, and she wouldn't have cared unless her stress level was at a ten. Today, it was hovering around an eleven, and the entire time they would've been talking, that was all Seven would've thought about.

Victoria stopped and reached for the paper bag that Seven clung to. "What snacks did you bring for brain food?"

"Cookies. I figured the sugar would help."

She dug around then pulled out a peanut butter cookie and took a bite. Then after a buttery, approving sigh, she turned to Adelia. "What's your dad say?"

Tex had adopted Adelia, but he was the father she claimed. Her blood brother, Javier Almeida, even visited them often as if Tex were his relation too. But Tex was currently the talk of Mayhem—not for his family, but because he wasn't accompanying Hawke.

Not all members knew of the trip, but the ones who did weren't sure the current second-in-command was acting his role.

"Not much to me."

Tex didn't talk much, but he conveyed a lot with looks. "Nothing about Johnny? Unrelated to this?"

"Nothing other than the normal bitching that no one should be groomed to run Mayhem since birth."

Seven sighed. "So the norm."

"Yup."

The gossip from a few chatty old ladies had been that Johnny was antsy for the gavel but his face was falling too deep in the white powder. Seven couldn't see one over the other. It was hard to see fault in friends and family.

The treasurer, Ethan, made more sense to her. If someone was going to talk money, it should be the money guy. But if she had to choose between Johnny and Tex, she would choose Tex. Though nobody had asked her.

"Do you think your dad should go?" Seven asked Adelia.

"Over Johnny? Fuck yes. He's one line away from snorting his last brain cell away."

"How am I missing this? And I'm not saying that Tex shouldn't be the one to go. I'm just saying maybe I have blinders on when it comes to him." Not that it would surprise her. "I don't even know if he wants me to babysit Johnny. Hawke hasn't said a word other than 'get on the plane' and 'we have your hotel room booked.'"

Victoria tapped her teeth in thought. "Maybe it's Jax that Hawke wants the ability to tap into."

Adelia giggled. "We should clarify that. Did you mean tap Jax or something more innocent, like converse with Jax?"

Seven groaned. "Could we not talk about tapping Jax?"

"God, what is he? One hundred percent full-blooded hot Italian male?" Adelia fanned herself. "I think it's the hair. Real dark and just long enough to hold on to."

"Oh my God." Seven pulled a pillow over her face. "How about we avoid discussing everything like that? Please?"

"I'd tap Jax. Over and over and over—"

"Adelia!"

She erupted into a fit of laughter. "And over."

"Would you shut up?" Seven ripped the pillow off her face and sat up. "I do not want to hear that."

"You can't lie and say he's not smoking hot."

Even Seven's best snake eyes were no match for Adelia laughing, and she turned to Victoria, who had rolled her lips together and was trying not to laugh also.

"Come on. You're married. Jax can't be hot. Nobody can be hot but the Australian downstairs."

"Actually, I'm upstairs and searching for something." Ryder walked by with a shit-eating grin on his face. "But yeah, if you were to ask me, I'd say the guy's not bad looking. If you could duct tape his mouth shut. The jackass."

Victoria and Adelia burst out laughing, and Seven groaned for what felt like the thousandth time, dropped back on the bed, and grabbed the pillow to cover her face again. "Can we not talk about Jax? This is supposed to be about Colombia." Carefully, she peeled the pillow from her face and peeked out to see the three of them watching her. "What?"

Ryder shook his head. "Oh, Seven."

Seven's eyes bugged. "What?"

"You have it bad, don't you?"

"Oh, for the love of—" Seven chucked the pillow at Ryder. "I'm here for a very serious conversation."

Ryder caught the pillow and stopped joking. "Okay, very serious conversation. Hawke wants Titan down there. He has hired us for a very pretty penny to stay neutral. It's obvious to the entire world that you and Jax have a"—he tilted his head—"connection. Your first loyalty is assumed to be Mayhem. Hawke would never question that. If Titan Group was to ever say or do anything that would endanger the club, you would know first."

Seven's lips parted, but her thoughts hadn't come up with the rebuttal that she was automatically prepared to give. "You think Hawke wants me to screw Jax for information?"

Ryder shrugged. "I don't know the guy."

Seven's eyes dropped to Adelia.

Adelia shook her head. "No way. If he wanted that, he would just say it. And then expect you to slap him."

Seven's gaze went to Victoria then Ryder and back to Victoria. "So then what? I'm not there to keep an eye on Johnny but rather Jax? I don't like the idea of spying on him."

"Then don't," Victoria said.

"But listen to what you just said," Adelia pointed out. "You just chose somebody you don't know above the MC."

"No, I didn't," Seven shot back defensively. "That's a strong accusation." Though all Adelia had done was repeat back what Seven had implied. She rubbed her temples. "Look, Jax is a friend. I've always been loyal to my friends."

A few awkward seconds sifted by before Ryder waved goodbye and left with a couple of cookies.

Seven took her own cookie out of the bag. "What's the final decision on Hawke's motives?"

"Who knows?" Victoria volunteered first. "If Hawke asks you any questions that you don't feel comfortable answering, you don't. Nothing that's any different than normal."

"Why does this feel different than normal?"

Adelia's face softened. "Because, sweetie, you two are…" Her voice trailed off as Victoria sat on the edge of the bed. "Opposites. But you have a vibe."

"A vibe?" Seven shook her head. "Nope. That's what Victoria has. The little sex toy fiend."

Victoria laughed. "A connection. Chemistry. The more you deny it to us, the more we're confident you two have that thing. Oh, hey." She reached for her phone on the nearby dresser. "I need Colby Winters's phone number. Do you have it?"

Surprised at the change of topic, Seven shook her head. "No."

"Do you have Javier's?" Adelia asked about her brother.

Seven's forehead pinched. "What? No, why would I have his phone number?"

Victoria scrolled on her cell. "How about Roman Hart's number or Brock Gamble? Luke Brenner?"

"No, why would I—Oh, because I have Jax's number."

Neither of them said a word, but both let their wide eyes do the talking.

Victoria scooted next to Seven on the bed. "I think we can drop the Jax part of this conversation, but I wanna say one more thing, and whether it entails him or not, that's your call."

"Is this where you give me the just-say-no-to-drugs conversation, Mom? Because I think I'm acing that test."

Victoria locked her arm around Seven's shoulders and hugged. "Remember that best friend necklace we had in eighth grade? And when I lost my side, I swore my life was harder than yours?" She shook her head. "We've had such a rough go sometimes, and through it all, really amazing things have come of it. Bianca and Nolan."

"Don't make me cry." Tears brimmed at the thought of what a hard night that had been and how beautiful it had turned out. Those little babies had had no one, alone with overdosing parents. A mommy who'd died and a father who had given up custody to Seven. She hadn't thought it over when child protective services and a police officer had shown up at her door in the middle of the night with two babies and a bag of ill-fitting clothing.

"Seven, I've never met anyone stronger, and there is nobody that I'd be prouder to call my best friend. But the amount of responsibility on your shoulders isn't fair, and sometimes I'm scared that you forget you're a person too."

"I know that," she whispered.

"I have no idea why you can't admit Jax is hot as fuck and you're into him when you easily run a business and support your parents and your adopted kids." Victoria squeezed her again. "I'm terrified that because our youth was taken away, you don't know how to enjoy the life that you have fought for and earned."

"Holy shit, Victoria…" Seven sniffed. "I'll work on having fun. I'll try. I promise."