Page 16 of Rough Patch

She chuckled with the absurdity of a man ten minutes from death behaving this way. “I don’t think you want me anywhere near your dick right now. It might not survive so well.”

“At least bury me with it, okay?”

“Grier…”

He swallowed and his open eye brimmed with tears. “I love you. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you anymore, but I do. And I would rather die than hurt you.”

Pretty words. That was all they were. And crying was a nice touch. She sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why’d you go to them?”

He shook his head. Instead of looking at her, he glanced out the window. “You’re my wife, and I didn’t protect you.” There was actual pain in his voice. And while she couldn’t say for certain that it didn’t stem from his physical ails, he’d been joking only a minute ago. “I sent you home, Fiona. And that son of a bitch is out there somewhere, waiting for his chance to come back and go at you again. I’ve looked. I’ve talked to everyone I can find and I got nothing.” He sat up straighter. “I called them because I’m desperate, and I’m tired of letting you down.”

“Grier.” But he’d lowered his head and wouldn’t look at her again. She opened her mouth to try again. “Grier. It wasn’t your fault, okay? I should’ve known about him. Max would’ve known.” He would’ve sniffed out the traitor, and he would’ve known Sedotal was hellbent on hurting Fiona. She’d been so busy trying to prove herself, she had let the details slip by. “I don’t know what to do about you.”

“Max would blow my kneecaps off then string me up and let the guys use me as a piñata.” He nodded to the gun on the corner of her desk, handle toward her, ready to be picked up and aimed. “Are we going to be doing that?”

She, too, stared at the gun. Even if she wanted to, which she didn’t, she couldn’t shoot Grier. The father of her baby. The man she loved. “No.” She opened the drawer and replaced the gun in its velvet-lined spot. “Did the FBI tell you anything?”

“Yeah.”

She waited for him to tell her, but he shifted his shoulders and resumed a casual slouch. A really casual slouch for a guy with no future with his wife. Even if she kept him alive, he would have to leave the club. “Are you going to tell me?”

“Fiona…”

Oh, this protecting her business was getting a little old. “Grier, they will kill you, but not if I give them something else. Not if I tell them where to find Sedotal and explain what happened.” It would mean giving them all the details, and she would, if it meant keeping Grier alive.

He nodded. “There’s a camp. It’s been empty for years but today a delivery driver brought supplies. But the FBI is sitting on it. They think Sedotal or Carr is going to show up there.”

“And they’re just going to let us run in there, get Sedotal and be on our way?”

Grier chuckled. “Probably not, but we’ve done a lot of shit under those noses over the years. Dragging one maniac out and stringing him up in the trees shouldn’t be a problem.”

If it worked, if she could give the guys a reason Grier was there and a retribution to spend, maybe… “So, where’s this camp?”

“I don’t know yet. But I think Kale does.” She still had the picture he’d brought back from his meet with the FBI and the one she’d brought with her. “He killed Dave, torched the truck, and set up Hamilton. I don’t really think he’s Demon material.” As she stared at him, wondering how much of what he said was true, he sighed. “Fiona, when did all this start going sideways? Think about it.”

She had. “When Max died.”

He nodded. “Kind of.” At least he wasn’t outright blaming her. “When Sedotal showed up, the trucks started going missing, guys started leaving, and when you busted him out of here, Kale came on the scene.”

She couldn’t verify his timeline with so many details in cyclone mode in her mind. One deep centering breath later, she was back on track. “You went to the FBI.”

“Because I love you, Fiona. As ridiculous as it is, I love you.”

That hurt. “Why ridiculous?”

He shook his head. “Well, first, you locked me in a cell overnight. We can start there and work our way back through the ridiculous milestones of our marriage, if you want.” When she didn’t answer, he swiped his tongue over the cut in his lower lip. “Maybe because you, my wife, are seriously considering handing me over to a bunch of angry bikers who will kill me one piece at a time. And I’m considering letting you because it’ll mean they’ll always stand beside you and protect you no matter what.”

But ridiculous? Grier was on a roll. Although she couldn’t really deny anything he’d said. She held up her hand. “Okay. I got the point. Ridiculous.” Not a word she ever wanted to hear again either. “But you’re wrong. I’m not going to kill you or hand you over to the guys. We just need to come up with something else that will satisfy them.” And she loved him back, with all her heart. Why else would she consider lying to the club?

* * *

Grier limped into the shop behind Fiona. He couldn’t see out of his right eye and his left was only half-open. His guts ached and he was pretty sure he’d never walk upright again, but he had to face the music and no way could he let Fiona deal with it alone.

And oh, his wife. Power looked good on her. She walked taller. Stood straighter. Held a gun like she’d been born with one in her hand. And it was hot.

She walked to the center of the room and pushed Sage away from a barefoot Kale. He was strapped standing against a board that held him suspended a foot off the ground. Jesus, this fucking guy was huge. And he struggled against the leather restraints. If he somehow managed to get out of this torture contraption, he would kill them all. Probably with his bare hands.

Grier looked at the restraints. Leather. Thick. Buckled so that Kale could barely move.