Page 29 of Not Your Romeo
“Jesus, Henny!” I snapped, losing the battle with my own temper. I probably looked like a mad man arguing so passionately over the phone at such an ungodly hour. “She’s hurting. It was her brother, you know. Show a little fuckin’ sympathy.”
“It ain’t her place,” Henny growled. “That’s men’s business. She’s your fuckin’ ol’ lady. Never mind that she’s a walking threat to the rest of the club and everyone around you. Put her in line, Zig, or fuckin’ get rid of her.”
“She’s just a girl, Henny!” I roared. “A hurt girl.”
He scoffed, and I didn’t have to see him to know he was shaking his head on the other end of the line. “Yeah. Let’s start there.”
I heard the door slam at his place and the car behind me honked, causing me to jerk against my seatbelt.
“Asshole,” I quietly scoffed, before growing loud again. “What the fuck does that even mean? Hello?”
“She goes to college in Edwardsville, yeah? I’ll meet you there.”
He hung up in my ear and I stared down at the phone I was holding in disbelief.
“Cocksucker,” I grumbled between clenched teeth as I hooked a U-turn and started back for the interstate.
I took the university exit and pulled over just before the campus perimeter to await Henny.
“Thank fuck,” I mumbled when I saw him pull off the interstate thirty minutes later.
I took a deep breath and slid my phone into my pocket, turning my attention where I thought he’d pull up next to me. He shot an arm out in an annoying gesture that was meant to be a question and rolled right on past.
“Fuck.” I started it up and went after him, yelling over the engines once I arrived at his side. “Damn it. Stand down!”
“We ain’t at war.” He shrugged, and that long, blond hair of his fluttered behind him in the wind.
I wanted to snatch him by it, and make him listen, but I’d never do that while we were in motion.
“Not yet–” I wanted to advise him we needed to tread carefully to maintain that peace status, but before I could, he slowed for the stop sign and went on a tangent of his own.
“‘Not yet.’” He nodded, “That’s right. But you just give that bad decision of yours a few hours and half a fuckin’ chance, and I bet you that goes to shit, too.”
We raced to the visitor’s parking lot, where Henny dismounted and started charging toward a three-story building like he came to take down a five-star general rather than a girl who studied gardening.
I was forced to jog a little to keep up with his long-legged pace, “Goddamn it, Henny,” I hissed, grabbing desperately for his upper arm. He brought it up in an effort to avoid me, exposing his flank and something black and shiny in the process. “Would you just stop a fuckin’ minute?”
He jerked away from me, his eyes going wide with warning. It wasn’t like Henny to be so aggressive, but he was under so much stress. The shit with his brother and the business of navigating his daughter through the end-of-life process with her mother, it was all taking its toll.
“Pull your shirt down, someone’s gonna see that thing. You trying to get a whole SWAT team called out here or what, brother?” I hissed, snapping him out of that wild-eyed look immediately.
He glanced to his hip where the butt of his pistol was exposed and jerked his shirt down over it with a curt nod. He whipped back around, starting his march again.
“Damn it, Henny. Take your fuckin’ vest off and leave that shit on the bike, man. You’re drawing–” I growled, realizing he wasn’t slowing any and fell into a trot to keep up.
My phone vibrated and I jerked it from my pocket, pausing as I hoped it was her.
The screen read, Sean.
“Hey!” I called out, after Henny.
He turned, glared at the phone, and finally stopped.
“Sean, I’m trying to find Ro–” Henny took off again and I cursed under my breath.
“She’s probably at the university,” Sean flippantly suggested.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re here now. Damn it–” I huffed, trying to catch Henny’s attention without drawing any more eyes our way, “It ain’t that building, dumbass. You’re puffed up and making a scene. Would you slow down?”
