“I don’t know.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he shoves his helmet over his head. “Then that’s where you start. Whatever happens from here on out, Legs is part of a package. And knowing her, she’ll be a mama bear when it comes to her kiddo. She might take a lot from you, but she won’t allow you to mess with her baby, so you better decide real fast. Look, I get that this is not ideal but maybe try looking at it from the other side for a minute. You can’t have kids, Midas. That sucks because I know how much you wanted to be a father, but it takes more than a cum shot to be a dad. And some of the best parents out there are stepparents. You know why? Because they aren’t relying on biology, they love those babies because they want to and choose to. There is not onething stopping you from co-parenting with whichever brother is the father, except you.” He swings his arms wide.
“Not all families are related by blood. I mean, look at the MC. Other than Mac and Toot, there isn’t a drop of blood between us. But you’re all my brothers, and I’d take a bullet for each and every one of you.”
He shoves the visor down and covers his face as he revs his engine. I shove my helmet on my head and follow him out of the lot, heading in the direction of home. All the way back, his words move around my head on a loop. When I split from him and head to the shop, I feel something click into place.
I don’t have all the answers, but I do have the beginning of a plan. And right now, that mainly revolves around making Legs not hate me anymore.
I pull up to Legs’s apartment building, parking around the back so she can’t see my truck from her place. I grab my cut off the seat and flip it inside out before climbing out and slipping it on. I pull a hoodie over the top and tug it up to cover my head.
I close the door and walk around to the bed and grab the case, filling it with the other shit I tossed in here before I zip it up and carry it up to Legs’s apartment. I stop for a second outside her door, but I don’t want to risk her seeing me. I keep moving to the apartment next door. I let myself in with the key I snagged last night and then lock the door behind me. I flip the lights on and take in the dead body on the floor, his head bent at an unnatural angle.
“You know it warms my cold black heart that she might actually get some fucking sleep tonight now you can’t play your shitty music.”
Naturally, he doesn’t answer. I pick him up and carry him into the bathroom, where I toss him into the bathtub. I fetch the case, opening it up so I can grab what I need. I use the tarp to line the inside of the case before carrying it into the bathroom. A glance at my watch shows it’s eleven thirty, so Legs is likely in bed. I need to do this quietly.
“Looks like we’re going old school, my friend,” I mutter to the corpse before grabbing the machete in one hand and the saw in the other. I eye them both before settling on the machete. I contemplate taking my hoodie off, but it’s black, same as my jeans and it won’t really matter. I grab a handful of the dead guy’s hair and swing the machete in a wide arc toward his neck.
Chapter Eighteen
LEGS
I get a full, blissful night’s sleep for the first time in what feels like a million weeks. I have a little extra pep in my step as I board the bus in the morning, treating Gene with a huge smile and a large slice of devil’s fudge cake I brought home from dinner just for him.
“Dear sweet baby Jesus, you’re a goddess,” he whispers reverently, making me giggle.
“I thought you might like that. Oh—” I rummage in my bag and produce a fork and a little carton of milk. “I got you these, too. I know the milk won’t keep for long, but I have it on good authority that now we’re grown-ups, we can have cake for breakfast.”
“Well, I think I heard that too.” He grins, nodding for me to take my seat.
I sit near the front, beside the window, and lean against the glass. I smile as we pull away from the curb. I just know today is going to be a good day.
When I get to the diner, I realize I spoke too soon. Susie is down with the flu bug, and the diner is extra busy today. Del and I have been rushed off our feet, at least, that’s how it seems. Bythe time I finally sit down, my back is aching, and my stomach feels like it’s going to eat itself.
“Here, get that down while I grab us some drinks.”
“Thanks, Del.” I take a bite of the turkey salad sandwich and groan in appreciation. It’s nothing fancy, but damn, everything tastes like heaven when you’re starving. By the time she comes back with a glass of apple juice for me and a coffee for herself, I’m halfway done.
“You want me to make you another one?”
“No, I want you to eat yours,” I tell her pointedly.
“I’m not pregnant,” she reminds me.
“No, but last time I checked, you were still human. So eat, woman, before you pass out.”
“I don’t remember you being this bossy when I hired you.”
“What can I say? I think you’re rubbing off on me.”
“Heaven forbid,” she mutters, making me chuckle. We eat the rest of our food in a comfortable silence. We might not get a chance again once the early birds get here for dinner.
“Thanks for today, Hazel. I couldn’t have coped without you. Hell, I think I might have to hire someone else, at least part-time.”
“It can’t hurt. Maybe put up a post on the local college noticeboard. Students are always looking for flexible part-time hours.”
“That’s not a bad idea, actually.”
