All of this, why? Was Delatorre targeting us before the job? Or does this all come down to my fuck up in trying to help that Amy chick? I’ve wondered why people turn the other cheek when they can see a woman who is obviously abused or in an unhealthy situation. No more questioning why anymore. How do you know if the bitch really wants out, or if she’s playing you and gets off on it? Yes, that one deserves what she’s getting. Her weakness to stay with that fucker has now shaken my world to its core. My sympathy for her is replaced with anger, hatred, and revenge. Yes, I know my dad and his boys will fuck up Delatorre and his crew. Hell, Delatorre may or may not be breathing when this is over. None of that is my concern, staying safe so I can return to my family is my only concern at the moment. Best believe though, when this shit storm blows over, I’m gonna find Amy Mitchell. She’s gonna learn she never should’ve included me in her sick game with Delatorre.

“Let’s go.” I hear Tripp call to us from his garage.

Everyone is sure Delatorre is watching our every move. Therefore, we have to act like we are visiting with Tripp and Rex to hang out. We’re going to grab some breakfast at a local restaurant and then do some shopping.

After a half an hour of our waitress fawning over Tripp, I’m thoroughly annoyed and no longer hungry. When the waitress asks Tripp for a ride, I want to stab her with my fork. It happens all the time, even when I’m out with my dad. Hello bitches, when there is a lady sitting next to a biker, shut the fuck up and move on. I’m climbing on that bike with him, therefore, there’s no room for your wanna be skank ass.

Tripp smiles at the bitch, winks as he tells her. “Sure thing babe, but another time.”

What the fuck is there to smile and wink at? She’s some random waitress at a diner! She can’t handle a Hellion. Jealousy combines with the emotions already swirling inside me. I want to kick, scream, punch something, or kick someone. I need to do something just to show this bitch she can’t handle a ride with a Hellion.

This is not me. I’m delightful Delilah. Not some possessive, cranky bitch. Why am I so bothered by this waitress hitting on Tripp? Hell, my dad has left me at a table to go hook up with a barfly in a bathroom before. The stress must be getting to me. That’s it. Certainly, I’m not catching feelings for Tripp this early. It’s all the changes affecting me. That’s my problem.

Doll is quiet. I can’t tell if that’s her normal personality, if it’s the worry over Delatorre, or if it’s my presence. She was all smiles this morning when she was getting ready, but since breakfast, she’s clammed up and not had any change in her pouty facial expression.