12. Ivy – Jett’s Mask Slips
TWELVE
IVY – JETT’S MASK SLIPS
Ivy
That mannn ... I blow out a deep breath as I lie awake in bed. My ovaries near burst watching Jett today with Sammy and Ava’s child, Hope.
Oh. My. Heart.
He was the sweetest with them—letting Sammy color in his back tattoo without the slightest complaint. On the outside he’s intimidating, but on the inside he’s the biggest teddy bear—for kids, anyway. He’s so good with children, and it’s made me fall even harder for him. And how could I not? No hesitation, just happy to help out and entertain the kids. It’s such a turn-on. Sammy’s such a strong-willed girl, but it’s evident she craves a father figure. It hurts my soul that she’s missed out on having a real father all her life.
It’s the worst feeling to be attracted to someone who doesn’t like to be touched... well, not by adults. Jett speaks only when spoken to, making flirting or getting close seem like I’m trying to scale a wall with no footholds. He trusts me to a degree. He cares enough to protect me. But am I just projecting, hoping he feels something—anything—in return?
All I want to do is go into his bedroom... and touch him, kiss him... show him what he’s missing out on and how good it can be between us. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly. I can’t say I’ve ever pursued a man before, so this whole experience is new for me.
Fueled by false bravado, I get off the bed, open the bedroom door, and tiptoe the few steps to Jett’s bedroom, but I freeze in the doorway. I poke my head inside. It’s dark, but the moonlight provides enough illumination to show him asleep in bed. I want to inspect every tattoo that curls around his body. I’m not sure there’s any uninked skin on his body apart from his face.
“Are you all right?” a deep, sleepy, voice asks, making my heart thump and my lungs tight.
What am I doing? I stand there like an idiot, unable to find my words. He waits.
I clear my throat. “Everything is okay...” I reply, then hesitantly step into his bedroom and sit on his bed. Baby steps . I don’t want to spook him.
He inches up. I can see his face now. With pinched brows he studies me. I bite my lip, feeling insecure. I look down at his bare torso. “I finally get to see your chest tattoo. Is it a type of bird?”
“A phoenix.”
The phoenix is large and black, covering most of his torso, its wings stretching wide to his shoulders. The tail feathers go down as far as I can see. I remember the V-shaped muscles I saw before he put his shirt on. Just like on his neck, small splashes of black and red ink surround the phoenix. I know the bird symbolizes resurrection and wonder if it holds any personal significance.
“Maybe you should go back to bed.” His tongue holds a warning.
I swallow down the embarrassment, but I take a moment. “Why do you keep everyone at arm’s length? Never allowing anyone to get close.”
“I like solitude.”
“Hmmm... Then how are you in a motorcycle club?” My voice is full of sass.
“I lived on the streets... Got into the MC’s illegal fighting ring they host to make money. I won.” He chuckles darkly, with not a hint of humor. “Then Reaper offered me a role as prospect.”
“So you weren’t in the military like the rest of them?”
“No... neither was Rage. The MC were the first people I was able to hang out with.”
Jett’s mask just slipped, and I wonder if I fit into the category of people he can spend time with. He’s slowly opening up. He’s like an onion with fifty million layers, but I appreciate his honesty. “Thank you for telling me.” I shuffle over and reach out to put my hand on his, but he grabs my wrist.
With eyes sharp, his stare cutting me, he says, “You shouldn’t get too close to me. You won’t like what you see.”
I find that hard to believe. “You’ve shown me what type of man you are already.” He releases my wrist. I’m trying not to overstay my welcome, so I stand. But I pause because there’s something on my mind. “I’m eager to go back to work...” It’s been clawing at me. I love my job, and I need independence. I’ve never relied on a man, and I have no intention of starting now. I still need to pay rent. “I spoke to Sophie and Milly about it. They wanted to check if it’s okay with you... and with the club. If I’ll be safe going there.”
“I’m not going to clip your wings, Little Bird.” His voice softens. “If you want to go to work, you can go.”
My heart’s in my throat. “You don’t think it’s selfish?” I have felt like crap for even considering the idea.
“If you want to work, I’ll check on you during your breaks and be there to pick you up and drop you off. Sammy will be well looked after by Ava and the other women.”
A fire heats my chest, and I just want to jump his bones for being so supportive. I’ve always longed for a partner who’s caring, supportive, and good with Sammy. I just convinced myself that that type of man was a myth and didn’t exist.
“Goodnight, Jett,” I say with a smile and amusement in my tone.
“Goodnight, Ivy.”
* * *
Upon waking, Sammy darts out, searching for Ava. The bond between them is growing—Ava even lets Sammy help make breakfast sometimes. Each day here at the clubhouse reassures me I made the right choice. Sammy seems happier than she’s been in a long time, completely unaware of her father’s betrayal. I’ll do everything I can to keep it that way.
After chatting with Milly, Sophie, and Jett, I feel confident about returning to work. I called my boss this morning, and they’re short-staffed, so I’m starting tomorrow.
After breakfast the men head toward the rear of the house one by one. Sammy jumps out of her chair and trails after Jett. He glances down at her, then crouches to her level, speaking softly. I can’t make out what he’s saying, but Sammy’s expression changes instantly.
She stomps back to me, lip pushed out in a pout. “What’s wrong?” I ask while clearing plates and helping the women tidy up.
“Jett said I have to stay inside,” she huffs.
Elena overhears and steps closer. “The men are doing shooting practice,” she explains. Her eyes flicker to mine, and she must notice the panic flashing across my face. “Don’t worry. I’ll go lock the back door.”
I exhale, relieved. Of course Jett wouldn’t want her near that. I head to the kitchen, handing the plates to Trixie, who offers me a small smile. The loud cracks of gunshots echo from the backyard.
“It’s okay,” Sammy says, her tone more upbeat. “Jett promised we can watch a movie later, and he never breaks a promise.”
Zara approaches, her presence hard to miss. She’s stunning—like, jaw-droppingly beautiful. Long black hair flows against her pale skin, creating a striking contrast. She’s like the Angelina Jolies and Megan Foxes of the world.
“How are you and Sammy settling in?” she asks, her voice soft and kind.
I smile back. “I’m doing my best, and Sammy loves it here.”
“I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to you,” she says, “but I manage Misty’s Safe Haven here in Crown Village. It’s a charity that helps women and children rebuild their lives after difficult circumstances—like domestic violence.” Her expression softens with a sad smile.
The compassion of this motorcycle club amazes me. Their selflessness and dedication to others are genuinely inspiring.
Zara places a gentle hand on my arm. “We offer access to counselors and lawyers. And if you believe the clubhouse isn’t the right place for you and Sammy, our shelter provides accommodation and food. May I see your phone?”
I swallow hard and hand it to her.
She types quickly, then returns it to me. “I’ve saved my contact information in your phone. If you need anything, call or text anytime. I’m always here for you.”
Overcome by a rush of emotion, I blink back tears. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Zara smiles warmly. “You’re very welcome.”
“So—you run the charity all on your own?” I ask, genuinely amazed.
“The MC helps too,” she replies, her admiration for them clear. “If a woman or child is in danger, the club steps in to ensure their safety until I can get to them and bring them to the shelter.”
“Jett? Or, well, Demon... he does that too?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.
She briefly shakes her head. “Although he is dying to help out with that side, he can’t. He lacks”—she cringes—“restraint from violence toward the people who have hurt the victims of abuse. I can’t risk it. I don’t want to traumatize the family any more that what they have already gone through.”
I’m not sure how to feel about that. Zara’s so nice. It has me wondering... “What do you think about Jett?” I ask, needing to hear her perspective.
She pauses, weighing her words carefully. “Trauma changes people. He is doing the best he can with what life has thrown at him. But one thing I can guarantee—he’ll protect you and Sammy with his last breath. There’s no doubt about that.”
Her words leave me stunned.
Zara’s smile returns. “I’d better head to work. Remember, call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks again,” I say earnestly.
Wanting to keep Sammy busy, I turn to the women in the kitchen. “Is there a computer I could use? I’d like to print some learning material for Sammy.”
Sophie motions me to follow her. “Come to my room. Use my laptop—it connects directly to the printer downstairs.”
Grinning, I gaze down at Sammy. “Come on, kiddo. Time to do some work.”
* * *
After lunch, I’m busy with washing and putting clothes away and getting my work clothes ready for tomorrow. I talked my way into washing Jett’s clothes. Most men would jump at the idea of a woman doing their washing. He didn’t care much either way, but it’s the least I could do for him. I slowly step inside his room, holding a basket of his clothes. I feel like I’m invading his space, but I’m doing a nice thing for him.
On Jett’s bed, next to the teddy bear, is yet another toy Sammy has added to his collection. The doll, with its pink uniform and blond hair, makes me cackle. She’s definitely adding color to his room. For a second I wonder if the doll crosses a line, but he let her color his back in purple marker, so I don’t think he’ll care. He seems to be content in making Sammy happy, even at his own demise.
Once I’m almost finished putting his clothes away, I grab his last black cotton shirt, which has the War Brothers emblem on the back, and bring it to my nose and breathe in. His fresh-scented cologne lingers even though the shirt’s been washed. I hang it on a coat hanger and make my way down the stairs.
I briefly check around the house, then pop my head into the living room, where Mercedez is sitting on Twitch’s lap. Sitting beside them are Dolly and Trixie, and on the other lounge chair is Elena on Axle’s lap.
“Hey, have any of you seen Sammy?”
Axle chuckles. “She’s working out with the guys and Sophie.”
I cock my head. “What do you mean?”
“Go check out the gym. It’s just at the rear of the house,” he says.
Curious, I go outside, where I hear a whizzing sound and smacking. I step inside a room to see a line of treadmills and ellipticals. Sophie is running on a treadmill. Farther toward the weights, Sammy is beside Viper and Jett, copying them doing bicep curls. It’s so adorable.
I stare at Jett, entranced, watching the movement. A light sheen of sweat mists his forehead and his inked arms. He looks up as if he senses my presence, so I make my way to them. Sammy’s eyes grow wide when she notices me, and she puts the small dumbbell on the ground, then raises her arm, flexing her bicep. “Mom, look how big my muscle is.”
“Wow...” I overexaggerate. “It’s so big.” I turn to Viper and Jett. “Is she okay in here?” Then I peer at the back to see Rage. He’s wearing shorts and moving fluidly around a punching bag, striking with precision and power. The ripple of his muscles and his confidence in boxing are hard to miss.
“Yeah, she’s fine,” Viper answers with a big, goofy grin.
“Okay. I’m going to go find Ava to see if she needs help with dinner.”
“No need,” Viper casually says. “We have pizza when the fights are on.”
“What fights?” I’m quick to ask.
“The fights that are held in the warehouse,” Jett replies, reminding me of our conversation last night.
“Do you still fight in them?” I ask Jett.
Viper barks out a laugh. “No sane person would be game enough to fight him, and we need to make money from it.”
A sliver of relief hits my chest.
“Can I go?” Sammy asks.
I scoff. “I don’t think so, young lady. We’ll be staying here.”
“We’ll all be gone in an hour or so,” says Viper. “Twitch and the ladies will be here with you.”
“I’ll stay with you too,” Jett says, making Viper raise his brow at him.
“Yessss,” Sammy cheers. I’m happy Jett’s staying too.
I go back into the living room and take a seat beside Trixie. She and Dolly both give me warm smiles. I’m curious about their arrangement within the MC. Mercedez seems to be with Twitch. I lean in closer to Trixie. “So, do you have a partner here?”
She smirks, shaking her head. “Nope.”
“Do you want one?” I ask, prying.
“Not really. I’m a drifter by heart, so I like to meet new people. I’m enjoying my stay here now, and that includes no strings attached.”
“Are you here for anyone in particular?”
Her smirk deepens. “Well... Cash and I sleep together occasionally, or I join Dolly and Rage.”
I giggle lightly—not exactly surprised. I’m in a motorcycle club after all. “Why doesn’t Cash have a partner?” He seems really nice. I can understand why Rage doesn’t. He’s still young.
“That man is sexy as fuck”—she wipes a hand over her forehead—“but I get the feeling he’s emotionally unavailable, and that works well because I’m not after anything either.”
“I overheard someone say he’s not over his ex,” Dolly chimes in.
“What about you, Dolly?” I ask.
She shakes her head, her pink pigtails swooshing with the movement. “I’m here for fun. I’ve got a good thing going on with Rage, but it’s not serious.”
I peek up at Mercedez. “Are you and Twitch together?”
Silence blankets the room. Dolly and Elena cringe; Twitch stills but keeps his eyes on the TV, and Mercedez glares.
Woah... “I’m sorry,” I mumble, realizing I’ve hit a nerve. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”
Mercedez gives me a fake smile. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Axle’s tone slices through, as he glares at Mercedez.
Sammy is a welcome distraction when she dashes over and sits on my lap. I look at Jett, who’s standing just outside the room. His eyes are like lasers as he searches everyone’s faces like he senses something’s off. When his eyes land on me, he asks. “Is everything all right?” It’s that voice. It’s Demon. He asks a question, but his tone makes it seem like it’s a threat... a warning to everyone else.
Axle turns his way. “It’s all okay. I’ve got you, brother,” he says with a wink.
Jett remains standing, eyes on me. “Everything’s okay,” I reassure him. Well... I think it is.
He pauses as if giving me a moment to add to my comment. When I don’t, he says, “I’m just going for a shower.”
“Are you high?” Axle asks Mercedez once Jett has left.
“Excuse me?” She sounds offended.
“No, it’s a genuine question.”
She tuts. “No!”
“You’re a sweet butt, not an ol’ lady. Act like it,” says Axle. Elena shuffles on Axle’s lap looking uncomfortable.
Twitch peers at Mercedez and adds, “Don’t speak to Ivy like that again.”
Mercedez looks at me and points. “She’s not an ol’ lady either.”
I wonder what her problem is. I make a mental note to ask Jett what ol’ lady means.
“She may as well be the way Demon is treating her. You on the other hand screw Twitch. Nothing more,” Axle bites back.
My eyes flick between the three of them. Twitch doesn’t deny it. Mercedez jumps up, sneering at Axle. “You’re such an asshole.”
I put my hands over Sammy’s ears.
Mercedez’s glare turns to Twitch. “You’re going to let him talk to me like that?”
Twitch cocks his head. “Like what?”
She huffs while dramatically rolling her eyes and storms away.
I blink a few times, confused by the interaction.
“That was harsh,” Elena says to Axle.
Axle scoffs. “Not harsh enough. I’m over sweet-butt drama. There’s been enough in this clubhouse to last a lifetime.” His head leans in the direction of Dolly and Trixie. “These two are chilled. They know their place and aren’t trying to force any of the members to make them their ol’ lady.”
Elena nods in understanding.
“Why was she bitter toward me?” I ask the group.
“Twitch has been leading her on for too long and needs to man up and tell her she’s never going to be an ol’ lady,” Axle says while staring at Twitch with a look that says “You know I’m right.”
“She knows,” Twitch answers.
Axle squints. “Does she though?” His smart-ass tone drips off every word.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Elena says to me in a soft voice. “She just really likes Twitch, and I think she’s on edge because everyone is coupling up, but Twitch doesn’t see her like that.”
“And anyway... Twitch, I’m just waiting for you to pull a move on Milly, have the whole Mercedez thing blow up in your face, only for Milly to then reject you.” Axle rubs his hands together as if he will be pulling up a chair and eating some popcorn while it happens.
“Oh, fuck off,” Twitch clips out irritably.
“Do you like Milly?” I ask Twitch. They would be a sweet couple.
“Ha!” Axle answers for him. “Bit more than like... he’s low-key obsessed... Probably just as obsessed as Demon is with you.”
My brows lift high on my forehead. Far from it.
Reaper walks in. “Come on, we’re leaving in half an hour.”
After the men leave and we order dinner, the ol’ ladies, the sweet butts, Jett, Twitch, Sammy, and I all sit in the living room. They have some trashy TV on where a bunch of single men and women are put into a house and the last remaining couple earn money... or something like that. I watch it, then my thoughts drift away to Jett. He’s sitting next to me on the large couch. His long legs are kicked out, and he’s looking comfortable.
The dog abruptly starts barking, making me jump.
“The pizza guy is here,” Twitch announces. He gets up and heads toward the front door. Jett gets up too, and I have to laugh when I see them walking back toward us in the living room. They are carrying box after box. Surely they can’t even see where they’re walking.
They set the boxes on the ground, and the smell of cheesy pizza wafts into the room, making my stomach grumble. Sammy, eyeing all the pizza, is the first to stand. “Jett,” she says quietly. “Did someone order my cheese pizza?”
“Sure we did.” He begins opening pizza boxes. “I’ll help you find it.”
I get up and start opening boxes too. “Here, Sammy.” I point to the box. “Do you have any plates?” I ask.
“You don’t need plates—just grab a piece and eat it,” Twitch replies.
Without hesitation Sammy does exactly that. “See,” she says, lifting the pizza up high and taking a big bite. “Like this, Mom.”
I laugh. “Chew it properly, you little pig.”
After finishing her mouthful, she starts snorting. I pull her to me and tickle her and revel in her laughs.
After dinner, Sammy goes over to Jett and pulls on his hand. “Come on, you promised me I can watch a movie.”
He peers at me. “The bedroom you’re staying in doesn’t have the right connections, so I’ve borrowed a TV and set it up in my room.”
Secretly, I’m cheering because I get to be closer to him.
“Come on,” Sammy whines. “Let’s go! I want to watch my movie.”
We follow Jett upstairs and into his room. Sammy jumps on his bed, grabbing the doll in one hand and the bear in the other, and lies down in the middle of the bed.
I can’t help myself. “I love the new toy collection you’ve got going on,” I say to Jett, trying not to laugh.
His eyes soften. He sits up on the far side of the bed, while I lie on the other side of Sammy. Jett gives her the remote, and she puts on a cartoon show. I find myself peeking at Jett every now and again. He sits relaxed with his legs out, seemingly unfazed with watching a cartoon show.
It isn’t long until I hear the soft purrs of Sammy asleep. “You must have worn her out at the gym.”
“She loved it. Would you like for me to carry her to bed?”
My heart beats faster when I think about spending more time alone with him. “Yes, please.”
His tattooed hands gently and effortlessly lift her up, and he takes her to our room. I stand by the door and watch as he pulls the blankets over her. He treats her as if she’s his own, and I have to turn around and dash back to his room so he doesn’t see the emotion on my face.
I make myself comfortable lying down on his bed, and when he walks into the room, I ask, “Do you mind if we watch a movie together for a while?” Please don’t reject me.
He gives me a stiff nod, sits on the bed, and moves to hand me the remote.
I shake my head. “You choose.”
“I don’t watch TV or movies.”
Of course he doesn’t. I turn on my side to face him, and I’m captivated by green-and-brown eyes. “Then what do you do?”
He shrugs. “Protect the club... Hang out with the MC men.”
“Protect the club in what way?” I blink. “Do you have a job outside of the club?”
“If a member or the club is in danger.” He pauses and gives me a funny look. “And no, I don’t have a job outside the club.”
I suppose I can’t imagine him in any sort of customer service–type role. “How does being in an MC earn you money?” Surely they can’t all pull a salary from just being in a motorcycle club.
His face is blank of any expression. “Gambling through the illegal fights and...” He slowly raises a brow. “You sure you want to know?”
I bop my head, though my heart rate increases. Please don’t let it be something horrific. I take a moment and think of all the possible worst-case scenarios.
“We grow and distribute pot to another motorcycle club.”
What they do in comparison to my thoughts isn’t too bad. I can live with it. I tap my fingers on the comforter. His inked skin stretched over muscle leaves me hypnotized, and thoughts of wanting to touch him make me inwardly curse myself. I need to be brave. Should I ask him if he’s interested in me or should I just kiss him? My eyes latch on to those full lips, and my mouth waters.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, confusion lacing his tone.
I smirk. “I like you.”
His pinched brows still show his confusion, so I shuffle over. He doesn’t move, but he’s watching me closely. His breathing has become faster. I do what I’ve wanted to do in so long—I wrap my arms around his stiff body, put my head on his hard, chiseled chest, and give him a tight hug. It warms my heart all the way to my soul.
I don’t care that he didn’t hug me back. I’m happy he let me touch him. His heart, however, is beating erratically, and it shows me I affected him more than he lets on. I feel the moment his body releases some of its tension, which makes my smile widen.
“Why don’t you like being touched?”
He pulls away, but instinctively my grip on him tightens, and I place a lingering kiss over his heart. A breath explodes from his mouth, and he rips himself away from me, then stands.
“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice harsh. He rubs a hand through his mohawk.
I lie there in shock at his outburst. Always so put together... always so in control, until now. I slowly get off the bed and stand. His haunted eyes are pained like I was hurting him. My heart cracks for him. Does affection really hurt him that badly?
My stomach churns, but I fake confidence. “I’m not giving up. Just let me in.” I mean every word.
His eyes grow cold as a sardonic grin envelops his face. I suck in a breath, knowing I’m not going to like what he has to say next.
“Are you going to let the same hands that torture and kill men touch you?”
I stumble back, unable to catch my breath.
He chuckles, but it’s dark and flat. “Yeah... that’s what I thought.”
I frown, rub the bottom of my throat, and walk back to my bedroom. I gently get back into bed, trying not to wake Sammy.
I shouldn’t be surprised considering what everyone else said about Jett, but hearing it out loud cements it in my brain. I should be terrified... disgusted... but I find myself wondering... did the men he kill deserve it? Why else would he do it? Zara said he had trouble restraining himself around men who hurt women and children.
He may not say much, but his actions toward me are everything I need to know. I might be deluding myself, but nothing can prove otherwise to me. I can’t escape the pull to him, and I think he’s scared of letting someone get too close. I refuse to give up because I want to be with him. Everyone deserves to be loved.