became part of Defiance—stay for good?”
Mathias nodded, his hands telling the rest of the story. About how he and Bishop came into town and helped Caspar out. How the MC lifestyle suited them, especially with their military background.
We like it here , Bishop translated. But it doesn’t feel like home.
There was a pause, then Bishop added, “Not yet,” and he was saying it to Mathias, not translating.
I had a feeling there wasn’t much these two didn’t agree on (intrinsically) but this was one of them. But they both agreed that they didn’t know if they could stay in one place for a long time, and that’s what Defiance would require them to do.
I must’ve paled or looked sick, because Mathias moved closer to me and Bishop got me water to drink.
“Sorry. I’m a little run-down,” I lied, refusing to admit that the thought of Mathias leaving filled me with dread, and not simply because he’d saved me. Because I was sure that what they’d done by saving me was going to force some kind of decision... If Defiance was going to stand behind me, Mathias and Bishop would no doubt have to agree to become a part of the MC. It seemed only logical.
Talk to me , Jessa.
“I guess I don’t understand it here at all. I guess I don’t understand a lot of things,” I said, and maybe I was having a little bit of a pity party, but I really felt out of it. “I feel like the entire world has been doing things I’ve never done.”
Now you have a chance to do them , Mathias offered.
“It just seems like an odd time,” I said lamely. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mathias so instead I glanced at Bishop. I’d noted earlier that he was tall, blond and lanky, but now I noticed that his features were sharp and aquiline. There was no denying he was handsome but there was an edge to him, one that was slightly more sinister than mere bad boy.
His eyes were a deep blue, ringed with black. And, like Mathias, he was quiet, but more so, even though he could speak. I felt like, even if he wanted to make noise, he wouldn’t. Every movement was deliberately measured and he was careful around me. He was almost as protective as Mathias.
He was protective of Mathias too, but in an entirely different way. Watching them together, they were, at times, two opposite sides of the coin and entirely the same person all at once. They could finish each other’s sentences, but they didn’t have to talk—or sign—to communicate.
Mathias did talk a lot with him, though. And most of the time, Bishop wasn’t looking at him but he knew what Mathias was saying anyway.
“How long have you been friends?” I asked both of them.
Mathias signed as Bishop said, We were eight when we met.
No wonder there was such a bond between them. “I, ah...”
“She wants to talk about you,” Bishop told Mathias, who signed and Bishop translated. “You can ask about me. He knows what I wouldn’t say.”
The level of trust between these two guys was incredible. I felt as though I’d become as close to Bishop as I was to Mathias. It was imperative. It was exactly what I’d wanted, too.
Put your hurt on me, if you dare
Mathias
Jessa didn’t understand what made me tick. Or maybe she didn’t really want to know as much as she wanted me not to tick that way, and that was frustrating enough. Understandable, but frustrating.
Because everyone always thinks they know better. People are all about twenty-twenty hindsight and second-guessing everyone else’s shit instead of worrying about their own shit. That’s what makes them so easy to sneak up on.
Me, I worried about my own shit. And Bish’s, of course, because he was like the other half of me, my brother from another mother, like our neighbors from the bayou used to say, back when Bish and I lived in the bayou parish and life was normal.
Or something like it. But that was way before the Chaos.
As I rolled through all that in my mind, my frustration no doubt obvious, Jessa was watching
Mathias nodded, his hands telling the rest of the story. About how he and Bishop came into town and helped Caspar out. How the MC lifestyle suited them, especially with their military background.
We like it here , Bishop translated. But it doesn’t feel like home.
There was a pause, then Bishop added, “Not yet,” and he was saying it to Mathias, not translating.
I had a feeling there wasn’t much these two didn’t agree on (intrinsically) but this was one of them. But they both agreed that they didn’t know if they could stay in one place for a long time, and that’s what Defiance would require them to do.
I must’ve paled or looked sick, because Mathias moved closer to me and Bishop got me water to drink.
“Sorry. I’m a little run-down,” I lied, refusing to admit that the thought of Mathias leaving filled me with dread, and not simply because he’d saved me. Because I was sure that what they’d done by saving me was going to force some kind of decision... If Defiance was going to stand behind me, Mathias and Bishop would no doubt have to agree to become a part of the MC. It seemed only logical.
Talk to me , Jessa.
“I guess I don’t understand it here at all. I guess I don’t understand a lot of things,” I said, and maybe I was having a little bit of a pity party, but I really felt out of it. “I feel like the entire world has been doing things I’ve never done.”
Now you have a chance to do them , Mathias offered.
“It just seems like an odd time,” I said lamely. I couldn’t bring myself to look at Mathias so instead I glanced at Bishop. I’d noted earlier that he was tall, blond and lanky, but now I noticed that his features were sharp and aquiline. There was no denying he was handsome but there was an edge to him, one that was slightly more sinister than mere bad boy.
His eyes were a deep blue, ringed with black. And, like Mathias, he was quiet, but more so, even though he could speak. I felt like, even if he wanted to make noise, he wouldn’t. Every movement was deliberately measured and he was careful around me. He was almost as protective as Mathias.
He was protective of Mathias too, but in an entirely different way. Watching them together, they were, at times, two opposite sides of the coin and entirely the same person all at once. They could finish each other’s sentences, but they didn’t have to talk—or sign—to communicate.
Mathias did talk a lot with him, though. And most of the time, Bishop wasn’t looking at him but he knew what Mathias was saying anyway.
“How long have you been friends?” I asked both of them.
Mathias signed as Bishop said, We were eight when we met.
No wonder there was such a bond between them. “I, ah...”
“She wants to talk about you,” Bishop told Mathias, who signed and Bishop translated. “You can ask about me. He knows what I wouldn’t say.”
The level of trust between these two guys was incredible. I felt as though I’d become as close to Bishop as I was to Mathias. It was imperative. It was exactly what I’d wanted, too.
Put your hurt on me, if you dare
Mathias
Jessa didn’t understand what made me tick. Or maybe she didn’t really want to know as much as she wanted me not to tick that way, and that was frustrating enough. Understandable, but frustrating.
Because everyone always thinks they know better. People are all about twenty-twenty hindsight and second-guessing everyone else’s shit instead of worrying about their own shit. That’s what makes them so easy to sneak up on.
Me, I worried about my own shit. And Bish’s, of course, because he was like the other half of me, my brother from another mother, like our neighbors from the bayou used to say, back when Bish and I lived in the bayou parish and life was normal.
Or something like it. But that was way before the Chaos.
As I rolled through all that in my mind, my frustration no doubt obvious, Jessa was watching
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