“Anything and everything.”
“Buy me flowers for no reason sometime. I don’t want flowers to be an apology. I want them to be a sign of affection and love.”
“I’ll plant you a fucking garden of flowers to pick for you every day, Misty. You deserve all of it.”
“I want to kiss you so badly, but my jaw really fucking hurts.”
He kisses my neck instead. “I can wait. For you, I’ll wait a lifetime.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Zeppelin
Misty’s okay. She’s handling what happened a lot better than I fucking am, and she’s stronger than anyone I’ve ever met before. No one has given me an update on what the plan is to take out Butch, so I’m bringing it up tonight.
Butch may have gotten away with what he did to Mom because of the danger back then. I don’t necessarily forgive Johnny for the decision, but I understand it. And Butch has gotten lucky that we can’t prove he killed Johnny, so he’s still breathing for that.
But what he did to Misty? What he tried to do? Fuck him. Fuck his club. I want them all dead.
Including Wylie.
They may have saved Butch that night when I attended to Misty, but they can’t protect him forever. This will be the last thing he does to my family.
No one quite makes eye contact with me as they filter into the Chapel, and my stomach flips. I can’t help but think this means we’re not getting revenge.
Just like with Mom. And Johnny. Now Misty.
Pacino finally meets my eye, and I see it. The confirmation.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Zep—”
“Save it.”
Why am I even wearing this patch? This kutte? This club is my legacy, but it’s working against me now. Fighting against me. Not standing by me when I need them most.
Well, if that’s the case, fuck them all.
Jethro walks in, and I glare at him as he sits down. “How’s Misty holding up?”
“Fine.”
“That’s good,” he says. “I guess you got something you wanna get off your chest. Go ahead.”
He bangs the gavel on the table, and I lower my hands to my lap, fisting them into balls. “Why is Butch Fucking Ballard still alive?”
“Because we can’t kill him,” Jethro says.
His tone comes across like he’s talking to a child. I’m not a child, and I sure as hell am nothischild. “Why the hell not?”
“Because it’s complicated,” Capone says.
For some reason, when he says it, I believe it. He’d be one of the first to help me kill a man who hurt my girl. Him and Kannon. But it still doesn’t explain.
“What’s so damn complicated? We have the proof. I fucking witnessed it. I stopped it. Pulling him off of her, and you and everyone else saw how beat up she was. What makes it complicated? Why can’t I take out the bastard who tried to…”
I can’t even say the words. Vomit rises in my throat as I think back to what almost happened. What I saw him doing to her is something no man should ever have to witness, let alone with the woman he loves. It keeps me awake at night. When I closemy eyes, I see the scene in my mind, and I don’t want to fall asleep because I know I’ll dream about it, too.
