I cleared my throat.“Workin’ on it.”
For the first time in a long time, I admitted my feelings. He settled back into bed, clutching the ring to his chest. His eyes began to flutter closed, and now, I can’t tear my eyes away. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.
My phone buzzes in my cut pocket.
Hunter: You still at Cassidy’s
Me: What’s it to you?
Me: Got a tracker. You know where I am, fuckwit.
Hunter: Just askin’.
Me: What do you want?
Abs: Can someone tell Stella to manage the bar?
Venom: She’s workin’.
Venom: Got a real job like you should have.
Abs: I help cook the fuckin’ club’s books. Go fuck yourself old man.
Abs might be young, but the kid is damn clever. Hehelps Hunter with the finances and will hopefully one day become treasurer of the club so Hunter can concentrate on the tech. He’s only recently become a patched member, but was always going to be. Shame he was lumbered with biker DNA; he could have made something of himself in the outside world.
Abs: Dixie’s bitchin’ she can’t find Warrior.
Malice: Killa. Do your thing.
I groan. He means it’s that time of year when I have to go searching for Warrior. Well, I know where he will be, and I know damn well what he’ll be doing. What I don’t know is why I always get lumbered with his sappy shit.
That’s a lie. I do. We’ve been best friends since we were kids. I’ve been through it all with him, every step of the way.
Me: Busy.
Savage: Just don’t let him go too far off the edge.
Fucking Jesus. Don’t let him go too far off the edge? The man is a wreck at the same time every fucking year, and not once has it gotten any easier. In my opinion, that is too far.
Me: Gottcha.
Hunter: You comin’ back to deal with him?
Me: No. He’ll be fine.
Savage: Your funeral.
Abs: Hopefully it’s not his.
I scrub a palm over my head. Jesus, the dumb idiot.
Me: I’ll go fetch him and bring him to the clubhouse, then I’m out.
Savage: Okay.
Begrudgingly, I push up from the floor and stretch, then head toward the door, already dreading what’s coming.
KILLA
