Page 7 of Thunder

“Didn’t you hear?” she asks innocently, “Ashley and I bought the office last month, we’re now the proud owners.”

Of fuck me, no.

“Does Doc know?” I demand because surely he wouldn’t agree to that?

“Nope,” she admits, “Trigger helped us get it done after Ashley batted her eyelashes at him and I thought I’d just surprise my husband when the time is right.”

I groan, dropping my head, ignoring the vehicles speeding past me.

We’re all fucking doomed if those two own the vet office. Does it surprise me that Trigger folded instantly? Nope, not one bit.

“That’s it, I’m not coming home at all, I’m going nomad,” I threaten, not wanting to deal with angry pet owners twenty-four seven, and Brit gasps before she retorts, “Then I’ll come find you and knock you out with the bat and drag you home!”

I roll my eyes and remind her, “You tried knocking me out last year, and all you did was give me a concussion,” and she huffs, making my lips twitch, but I soon wince when she states, “Asher, you either bring that idiot home or I’m bringing a dog home tomorrow!”

“No, you are fucking not!” I hear Doc snap before he demands, “Get your fucking ass home, Thunder!” and I laugh, I can’t fucking help it.

“It’s just a dog, Doc,” I goad with a smirk, but it soon drops when he admits, “She brought home a litter of fucking puppies yesterday!”

“Fuck off?” I snap, and he grunts, “Yeah, the owner was breeding her dog, trying to make money and was hoping for a rare breed or some shit, but the dogs came out normal, and she wanted them all killed.”

“Ah shit,” I groan, “and I’m guessing Ace doesn’t want animals anymore?”

“The fucker took two because Molly pouted, but that was it, and your dad took one despite your mother's denial, and now I’m stuck with the rest.” He admits, and I ask, “How big was the litter?”

“Fucking twelve,” he grunts, and I wince.

“Just so you know, Doc, you married her, so she’s your responsibility, no takebacks,” I joke, and he growls, not finding it funny, and I laugh.

Sighing, he confirms, “You’re still not ready to come home, are you?” and I swallow hard as I look down.

“No,” I admit, “I uh, I still feel lost…” And I’m still getting pains, but I’m not telling him that. He already suspects my injuries, and he just doesn’t know the extent of them.

“Brother, it’s been seven months.” He reminds me softly, “Brit is still struggling without her sparring partner, my kids are missing their uncle, your dad is going insane, so is your mother.”

I hold in my snort at the mother shit because we both know she’s happy to have one less brother around.

She may have raised me, but she didn’t want me, especially knowing my birth mama was a part of the club before she passed away. Especially knowing I was always going to follow in my dad’s footsteps.

Kathleen Childs because yeah, she refused to take Hill as her last name, only puts up with me or that is how it feels.

When I don’t say anything, Doc sighs and admits, “Brit is ten weeks pregnant, brother. We’re having another baby, and you were the only person she wanted with each pregnancy, and that hasn’t changed this time around.”

Fuck.

I clench my jaw and look at the road sign about a meter away…

Go right, it heads straight back to Wincher. I’d be home in three hours, most likely making my sister's day even though I’m not ready. Or go straight, which heads towards Dallas and put me first.

Fuck I’m conflicted. I’ve just spent the past two days with the Huntsmen MC, another club we’re affiliated with in New York. My plan was to maybe head towards the Devil’s MC, see if Snake could put me up for a few days before I decide my next route, maybe tattoo at their shop, something I’ve done at every club I’ve visited, earning my keep.

Maybe their doctor can take a look at my knee and shoulder. I refused to have Doc and Tank to have a look because they don’t know exactly how bad the pain is, and the last thing I need is my little sister taking over.

When I still don’t say anything, Doc sighs, “I get it, you’ve worked your ass off to keep this club together. I also know you’re in some kind of pain. You don’t want me to know about it, but I’ve seen the winces, I’ve heard the groans when you think I’m not watching. Thunder, you are club, you’ve been our glue so if you need a little longer then fine, but all I ask is that you come home before your new niece or nephew is born and head over to the Untamed until you do decide to come home.”

“You don’t want me riding from club to club anymore?” I confirm with grit, suddenly pissed off that he’s hit the nail on the head.

“No, I don’t, because you refused to explain exactly how much pain you are in. Hawk’s dad can look at your injuries while you help the brothers out. They have a traitor that is stealing from the club and causing raids by the feds. They need a hand in getting proof because apparently, he’s gotten cozy with Ink's old lady, Sophie. We both know she isn’t good with judgement and is continuously defending him, pushing Ink away without realizing,” Doc states, “So head there, look into the traitor and get your head sorted. I want you home in no later than eight months, otherwise, I’ll sic your sister on you!”