A phone ringing cut her off. It took everyone staring in my direction to realize it was my other phone, the one only my murderous little band of psychopaths used.
But instead of the usual blocked number, it was a video call.
I frowned at it, my heart rate picking up at the change in routine.
“Everything okay?” Kara asked softly.
I forced a smile at her, not wanting to worry her when she was this close to giving birth. “I’m sure it’s fine. Just one of the guys probably thinking about going on a murder spree and needing to be talked off the ledge.”
Nobody laughed. Not even me. “Yeah. Okay. Not funny. I’m going to take this.”
They all nodded, understanding now this was a responsibility I took seriously, both as a doctor and as a friend and brother. These men needed me to keep them on the straight and narrow. Or as much of one as there could be when I was endorsing them killing people. Keeping it to those who truly deserved it was the only way I could sleep at night.
I waited until my family had gone inside and the heavy front door of the club had swung closed behind them. Then I answered the call.
“Grayson!” Scythe’s face filled the screen.
I blinked in confusion. “Scythe? How do you have this number? What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Aw! It’s so nice of you to ask. Men don’t do that enough these days, do they? We really should ask each other that more.”
A crashing thumping noise came from somewhere behind him, and then X’s howl of pain.
I widened my eyes. “Was that X?” My stomach sank. “Scythe, are you hurting him? I know he’s insanely annoying—”
“Am not!” X shouted from somewhere off-screen.
I blinked, shaking my head and heading toward my car, grateful I’d left the keys in it and didn’t need to waste time going inside to get them. “And childish, but if he’s pissed you off enough for you to hurt him, then let’s just talk about—”
Scythe winced at another crash in the background.
X howled again. “She’s trying to kill me, Gray! Help!”
I stopped mid-stride. “She?”
Scythe flipped the phone around.
I peered at the screen and then gaped at the woman throwing kitchen utensils in X’s direction while he shielded himself with a fat, hardcover cook book.
Scythe turned the phone back on himself and grinned sheepishly at me. “Some mistakes might have been made tonight.”
I sighed, shaking my head as I got into my car. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”
“Will do.”
“Scythe?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you try to keep the woman alive long enough for me to get there?”
“Why are you throwing eggs at me?” X yelled in the background. “We could make omelets with those!”
Scythe sniggered, sitting back in a chair like he was eating popcorn at a movie. “I’m not sure it’s her you need to worry about.”
THE END.
