I squared off with him, forgetting everything else. “Answer me one question.”

His brown eyes locked with mine. “Done.”

My voice dripped sugary sweetness when I spoke. “Who in the fuck do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

He blinked once, and then he tipped his head back and laughed. “You got attitude. You really do. I kind of like that.”

That pissed me off even more, and besides, that was also kind of twisted. “You can leave now.”

“Not until you get what’s going on here.” Jax planted two hands on the counter, one on either side of my hips, and then he leaned in, caging me. “I need you to listen to me.”

I locked up and was unable to remember the last time a guy got this close to me.

“Calla,” he said, and I shivered at how deep and soft his voice was as it wrapped around my name. “I don’t think you realize just how far gone Mona is and what that means for everyone who knows her.”

Air halted in my lungs. “How far?”

“It’s not pretty.”

“I didn’t think it was.”

His eyes continued to hold mine. “This house has been party central for the last couple of years. Not the cool kind of parties anyone with two working brain cells would want to go to. Police are here on the regular. This house has basically become a drug house, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you find crack pipes stashed in some of these kitchen drawers.”

Oh my God.

“The kind of people she hangs with? They are the bottom of the fucking barrel. Can’t get any lower than them. And you can’t get any shadier than them. And that’s not even the worst part.”

“It isn’t?” How could it be worse than my mom owning a crack house? I guessed a meth lab could be worse.

“She’s pissed off a lot of those shady people,” he said, and my stomach dropped to my toes. “Owes them a lot of money from what I hear, too. So does her man Rooster.”

Owes more people money? Oh God, that was bad news.

“Now I know Clyde probably doesn’t want you to know this, but I don’t think shielding you from the shit that’s going down here is the right thing to do. Mona’s got a lot of the wrong kind of folks gunning for her. The kind of people your mom is messed up with are bad news. The windshield?”

“What does any of this have to do with the windshield?”

“You came here first, right? Someone probably has an eye on this house, saw you, and decided to give you a good old-fashioned redneck warning. They may not realize yet that you’re her blood, but they know you obviously know her since you’re here. And hey, the whole windshield thing could be a fucked-up coincidence, but I doubt it. Let’s hope they don’t realize you’re blood.”

Oh, holy crap on a cracker, this was not good. My chest rose sharply as my pulse kicked up. This had veered off from crap, straight into shitville.