“Dutch—”
“It’s suffocating me.”
And those words sounded like he was suffocating.
Georgie didn’t miss it.
“Stop doing it,” she whispered.
“Igotta.It’s my part of being abrother.”
“They would not want you to suffocate.”
“They got mortgages to pay and families to feed.”
“It’s driving you away from them.”
Fuck, she was right.
Fuck, she was so right.
He averted his gaze.
She grabbed both sides of his face and made him look at her.
“You can’t be you without them.”
“I joined them because I wanted to be a part of something.”
“You are.”
“I wanted to be a part of who they were…are.”
He meant his dad.
And his other dad.
She pressed in on his face.“You are, Dutch.”
“It isn’t there anymore.”
“Because you’re not letting it be.”
“What?”
“You and I are going to find Carlyle.We’regonnafigure this out for him.Do you know how much fasterthat would go if a motorcycle club whose members know the streets better thanthe cops helped us out?”
He sat up straighter, losing her hands, and Murtagh jumpedoff with an annoyed“Muwrrrr.”
“Babe.”
“Quiet, please, and listen—”
“They’ve been through too much.We vote on shit like thisand they’ll vote it down.”
She sat back and asked a shocked, “Have you lost your mind?”
“Watchin’ a documentary, eventwice, does not mean you know my Club, Georgiana.”
