He nodded. I wish he’d stop with the damn nods and just speak! He’d been attentive and talkative last night. Now he was silent and flat. Did he hate me after I’d come clean about his brother? Was this fascination really just abhorrence? Shit, did he blame me for his brother’s death?

I looked down at my food nervously and said, “You know, about last night… The things I told you... I understand if there’s animosity. I don’t expect you to be nice or understanding after what I told you happened–”

“No animosity whatsoever,” he interrupted firmly. “You did nothing wrong. What happened was Brett’s fault. Not yours. Understand?”

“Yeah.”

He leaned over and pushed my plate further into me. “Go on. Keep eatin’, Birdy. You look just as exhausted.”

My nerves died down immediately. I looked at him curiously, a certain repeated word of his getting the most attention in my thoughts.

“Birdy. Why do you call me that?”

He smirked like the question was amusing to him and stopped picking at the food. Giving me his undivided attention, he replied, “I’ve been calling you that since you were three. When the folks were busy and you were bein’ an annoying little shit, I was thrown in your play-pen to calm you down.”

I couldn’t resist my ear to ear grin.

“Toys did nothing for you,” he continued, face softening with his words. “You used to throw them out of your pen and scream like a chimp on fire, bangin’ the bars and shit ‘til you were purple in the face. The only thing that’d shut you up was a book, and the only reason I learned that was because you stole my favourite comic out of my hands once and tore it to pieces. But you did it quietly, so that was a fucking breakthrough.”

I laughed lightly. “Oh, my God. Was it a good comic?”

“It was ‘The Spectacular Spider Man’ comic with the Kraven on the front or some shit. My favourite at the time.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”

“You should be. That shit was hard to come by for me. Had to pay a Jackal thirty cents for it.”

“A whole thirty cents?”

“All my money at the time.” He smiled widely at my laughter, and it was a nice smile at that. The kind that brightened his otherwise stern expression.

“Anyway, I started reading to you. Tried gettin’ you to actually talk because you’d just scream and never use words. Your favourite was this animal safari book, and it was the saddest lookin’ thing you’d ever seen, pages worn out and tattered. It was probably from the fuckin’ dark ages or somethin’.

“So, I’d point to every animal on every page and read them out to you. You were too fussy to repeat the names and more intent on listening. I’d re-enact the sounds they’d make, and you’d laugh up a storm, looking at me growlin’ like a fucking lion and bear and shit. Could never get you to do it until one day you just picked up the book yourself and flicked through the pages, looking for something. You stopped and pointed at a bird and screamed, ‘chirp, chirp,’ over and over again. You were damn proud of yourself too, chip-chirping like a possessed toddler; nobody could get you to shut up after that. I called you ‘Birdy’ because that was the only animal sound you’d make, and you responded to the name like it was your own.”

My heart squeezed in my chest and my cheeks went hot. It was so bizarre for a stranger to talk about a moment in my childhood I couldn’t even remember. It was also soothing. Mom had never talked to me throughout the years. Never brought up my childhood, the day I was born, what I was like… She’d remained a shadow, preferring to distance herself from me.

“So that name stuck, I guess,” Remy said with a shrug. “If you don’t like it–”

“I like it just fine,” I interrupted with a convincing smile. “I don’t know anything about that time in my life. I remember nothing. You telling me about it helps. Thank you.”

Cue the nod. “S’alright.”

When we finished eating, we began packing the trash into the paper bag. It was then I took full notice of the bags on the floor beside the door.

He followed my gaze. “I brought you some supplies.”

Supplies? I got out of bed and walked to the bags. I bent down and looked into a few. I found clothes in one bag and hygiene products in another with… Were those pads? What the fuck?

I confusedly turned to Remy. “How long are you going to keep me here?”

He was wiping his hands with a few napkins and not meeting my eye. I didn’t feel good about this.

“There’s some heat on you,” he muttered, throwing the napkins into the bag.

“On me? Why?”

“Come have a seat.”

I sat back down with my back against the headboard and warily watched him fiddle around with the trash bag.

“I struck a deal with the Scorpions,” he then said, finally tossing the bag on the ground before meeting my eye. “Spoke with Jaxon…”

My insides seized at the mention of Jaxon, and I went rigid. He noticed it and eyed me carefully.

“He killed my brother, Sara.” His voice was low, unreadable. “He crossed the line.”

“He saved me,” I whispered, eyes watering at the pain that was re-surfacing. “I told you that.”

“Regardless, there are consequences–”

“Don’t hurt him!” I interrupted hysterically. This is what I feared would happen and why I initially didn’t want to tell him about Brett in the first place. “Please, don’t do anything. Please.”

Remy pursed his lips, displeasure clear in his tense demeanour. “What he did is grounds for retaliation, Birdy. Something I chose not to do in the end.”

Now I was even more confused. “What was the deal?” If it meant there was heat on me, then it had something to do with me.

“You.”

Me? “What do you mean?”

“Told Jaxon to steer clear from you. That you were a Jackal. That you don’t deserve the kind of lifestyle they would have offered you. The heat is knowin’ Jaxon might not follow the rules if you’re back out there, and if he doesn’t follow the rules, shit’s gonna get ugly. There’s not much peace between the clubs as it is. One blow up like this can end badly for everyone involved. I need you here ‘til it cools.”