Trixie gives out a peal of laughter. “Sure does. We make sure you men get your veggies.”
I frown. That’s a surprise to me too.
Sweetie manages not to burn the bacon too much, and soon Ace and I are digging into our sandwiches. I’ve just about finished when a high-pitched voice reaches my ears.
“Ace!”
It’s Trip, Short’s son, and the man himself and his old lady are right behind him.
Immediately jumping off his chair, Ace goes to greet him. “Hey, little man. You want to play someCall of Duty?”
When Trip nods eagerly, both boys disappear into the clubroom.
“Call of Duty?” I raise a brow toward Short. “Isn’t that a bit too old for him?”
Short slumps into the chair beside me. “Fuck if I care, Brother. I’m just glad at how far he’s coming along.”
He’s got a point. Not too long ago, Trip couldn’t even speak, let alone handle a controller and play a game. I turn my attentionto Bronwyn, ignoring the daggers Trixie’s eyes are shooting at me.
“Trixie’s got broken ribs, Bron. Could you check her out?”
I only wait until Bronwyn nods and gives Trixie a concerned look, before hightailing it out of the kitchen, before I feel the full force of Trixie’s death stare. Short follows.
“Bullseye’s called church. I presume it’s about last night,” Short says, assuming I’m heading that way.
Guiltily, I realise Prez had probably wanted to have a quiet word with me, before we all get together. But Ace had come first. That conversation we’d had was a long time coming and probably overdue. And then, of course, we’d had to meet the demands of our stomachs. As I make my way alongside Short to the meeting room, I realise I have an apology to make.
My opportunity comes sooner rather than later, as Prez steps out of his office as I pass, and with a gesture, invites me in. Preempting his admonishment, I get the first word in. “I’m sorry, Prez…”
“Nah, Freak. I should have realised you needed time with your son. How’s Ace holding up?”
Scratching my head, I respond, “Remarkably well. But that’s what worries me. He’s been around the club all his life, but we’ve shielded him from violence. What Candyman did last night must have opened his eyes. Yet he hasn’t mentioned Toni’s abuse, or Trixie’s.”
Prez’s eyes sharpen. “Trixie? She alright?”
“She’s pretending to be, but Candyman got her in the ribs, broke or badly bruised at least one of them.” I huff a mirthless laugh. “She’s acting like nothing happened.”
He shakes his head. “Woman’s obviously got a lot of practice in that. You saw the scars on her body left by her bastard husband?”
I had that one night when I had her in my bed. As have probably all of my brothers. Doesn’t detract from her attractiveness or her ability to perform in the sack. I frown. “She’s immune to a man doing a number on her.”
He slams his hand on the desk. “Fuckin’ hate that, Brother. And she did you a solid yesterday, we’d never have found Ace without her. Or not for some time.”
“Tell me about it. The thought’s the making of nightmares.” I huff a strangled laugh. “You know, I couldn’t find Ace last night, went looking for him everywhere, then followed a hunch. You know where he was?”
Prez chuckles. “I heard the rumours. Seems like you and Ace were found in Trixie’s bed.”
I can smile about it, now that it’s not Rattler making innuendos. “He went running to her. She was ignoring her own hurts and comforted my boy.”
“I’m not surprised,” he tells me. “Trixie’s got a way with kids. And she cares a lot for Ace. Always has.”
Yeah. And I was blind not to see it. Looking back, she’d always been watching out for him.
Bullseye raps his fingers on his desk. “Freak, look, church is going to have to discuss Toni. You brought her back here.”
“I’m regretting that now,” I admit. “Should have left the MDMC to finish her.”
He studies me for a moment, then gives a sharp nod. “It is what it is. Now, let’s get to church.”
