“How does it feel to be married to the President of an MC?” she snickers, urging a grin out of me, although it’s only slight, because shit… Smitty was her stepdad.
“Jols… Smitty… You must be—”
“Relieved.” She cuts me off. “I know he saved me and my mum, and on the outside, it looked like he’d done a good thing. But we were beholden to him. And not in a good way.”
Jols chews on her lips, looking around like she’s checking to make sure no one is listening.
“I did care about him, Abbey, but he held saving me and my mum over our heads. They may have been living separate lives mostly, but he had her working for him on the side. Always controlling her money, and reminding her that he had me in his care. She was scared of what he’d do to me.”
“Like when he dragged you back here after the raid on the Rebels compound?” I ask, and she nods.
“He’s gone now, and learning what he did…” Jols shakes her head, her blue eyes flaring wide with anger. “If Ringo didn’t kill him then I would’ve.”
There’s so much conviction in her voice that I don’t doubt that for a second.
“So, let’s not talk about that fucker anymore and stop dodging my question.” She wags her brows, and I frown.
“I’ve already forgotten what it was.”
Giggling, Jols reaches out and grips each of my shoulders.
“How does it feel to be married to the President of an MC?”
This time I giggle, remembering what we were talking about.
“Feels the same as always so far.” I shrug. “I can’t really picture how it will be after this though.”
“Well, there will be celebrations once this is all over. And, just FYI, if Ringo says it’s a rule that the President fucks his wife in front of everyone at those celebrations,” she uses air quotes when she says celebrations, “then he’s lying.”
A laugh bursts from me, and we both giggle, leaning against each other, receiving some sharp glares off our men.
“Stop it. You’re going to get me in trouble,” I snicker.
“Don’t act like you don’t want him to spank you.”
“Oh my God, stop!” I squeak, and Jols cackles next to me.
It’s in that moment that a horde of men start showing through the trees, stepping out into the clearing and leading three prisoners towards us.
I go rigid at the sight of my grandfather limping, and Jols must notice because she takes my hand in hers, giving me the extra support I need.
“Let him go!” my mum yells, but no one pays her any attention, or my sister, who is sobbing again.
I can’t look at her. I feel weak when I do. Like I’ll cave and give in and just let her go.
I don’t know what to do with her yet. She’s just a misled kid. Groomed. She needs some sort of rehabilitation.
Shit. Does that even exist for a situation like this?
“Ringo, you need to take a look at this,” Mex grumbles as he passes us with Lewy on his heels.
He hands Ringo some papers, and I watch as Ringo scans them, a frown tugging at his brows before he looks up to Lewy.
“Is this the list from the hard drive?”
“Yes. And the last page has some locations,” Lewy answers. “As you can see, some of them were used to store things, some as safe houses, some as ahhh… recording studios.”
“And some used as clubs,” Ringo mutters, handing the locations page to JD before he scans the other list again.
