Her fingers stop moving. “Thumper?”
I can hear the hesitation in her voice. She hates him, and I can’t blame her. The MC made her life a living hell, and if theyhad their way, she’d be another missing persons case that would eventually go cold.
I don’t even know why I brought him up. He and I have a contentious relationship at best. “We can rent a car,” I offer, not wanting her to have to make the decision.
“No. No. Do I have to be around him for long? What are we talking about here?”
“He’d drop the part and go.”
“So, technically, I wouldn’t necessarily have to see him at all?”
“Not if you didn’t want to.”
She props herself up on one elbow, staring down at me. “Have him bring the part. It makes the most sense. If he’s your brother, I’ll have to face him sometime. He’s part of your package.”
“He doesn’t have to be.” I’ve written other people off for less. The fucker should’ve been dead to me years ago, but I tried not to hold a grudge because my mother would be beside herself.
“He’s your brother, Wylder.”
“And?”
“He’ll always be part of your life.”
“He’s an asshole, Tate.”
“Well aware of that fact,” she reminds me like I forgot all the bullshit she went through with the MC.
I still don’t have the entire story, but I am going to change that. Thumper and I are going to have an in-depth conversation about Tate. So far, I’ve avoided him since we had our fight, which was the night I ended up inside Inked with my lips pressed against Tate’s.
“But,” she says softly, grazing my nipple with her fingernail, “he’s our best chance of getting out of here without having to come back until the girls are done with camp. I can stomach him for a few minutes if it gets us home sooner.”
I stare up at her, chewing the inside of my lip. I wish there were another way, but of course, we had to break down in the middle of nowhere. “I’ll make the call. I’ll have you home by late tomorrow afternoon.”
“Perfect,” she breathes and collapses back into my side. “I have to get the guest spot ready. My cousin’s coming in from Florida to do a stint at Inked. I want everything to be perfect.”
“I’m sure it will be,” I tell her as I grab my phone off the nightstand and find Thumper’s number.
The phone rings three times and then kicks over to voice mail, which is full. But before I can shoot off a text to him, Thumper’s photo flashes on my screen.
“Yo,” he says before I have a chance to say hello.
“Hey.”
“What’s up, dickhead? You never call. You dying? Ma dead?” he rattles off. “Hopefully not Ma, but the other shit…”
“What are you doing in the morning?”
“Not a goddamn thing besides turning the bitch out who currently has her lips locked around my cock.” There’s a choked moan in the background, and I cringe, glancing down at Tate, who doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest.
“Can you swing by my garage and drive a part out to me? I’m in Indiana.”
“What the fuck are you doing there?”
“Took the girls to summer camp. The truck shit out on me, and of course, there’re no parts for it anywhere near here.”
“I got you. How far?”
“Three hours.”
