Tommy didn’t dive into details about his sis, but I got the gist. He and Milly were the hell-raisers, doing typical twin things to cause problems. All but pretending to be each other, even if they tried a few times. But Bobby, the second oldest, could always call them out on it before it got too far.
Men gather the stretcher Tommy is on, carrying him to an SUV, where he sits up and lets them move him into the vehicle. Once he’s in, the others quickly get in. All but one. The oldest, Vinny—and, unless I’m mistaken, the head of the family. He stares us all down, me included, before he gives a nod to whoever is in the other SUVs and then enters his own, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he does, the two SUVs drive off.
Another door slamming shut pulls my attention, and I grin.Fuck, it’s good to behome.
“About damn time you got your ass back. Place has gone to shit with you out,” Jumper says as he crosses the distance between us and pulls me into a one-armed hug.
“I knew you always had a thing for me.”
He matches my energy. “Nah, wasn’t talking about you. I was talking to the prospect.” He gestures behind me to the guy pulling our gear off the racks, giving him a chin lift.
“Ain’t going to be a prospect much longer,” I say under my breath.
“No shit?” Jumper pulls his head back to look at me. “Damn, going to have to start thinking of his road name.”
“Already got one,” Domino says as he walks by, giving his buddy his own chin lift as he hauls our stuff to our vehicles.
“You fuckers have all the fun. What’s it going to be?” Jumper asks as he looks back to me for insight.
“Guess you’re just going to have to find out.” I grin, and for the first time in a long time, it feels good to joke around with my brothers. For a while there, it almost felt as if it was expected. Then Milly showed, and laughing wasn’t on the menu, not when there were other things to do with my mouth. But now? After everything that’s happened, all the blood spilled, laughing seems like the best damn thing in the world.
“Fucker. Okay, well, let’s get this shit on the road. Boys are holding Church for you. Where’s Koop?”
I look back and nod toward the two making their way to us. “Mickey’s got him.”
Jumper hisses through his teeth at what he sees but keeps his mouth shut as they both limp down the cargo bay ramp. “Shit,” he finally says once they’re out of hearing range.
I nod. “That about sums it up.”
I step out with Mickey as he pulls a smoke from his back pocket. He offers me one, but I never was big on smoking. My dad lived for it, and I swore I’d never become like him.
I nod to a few of the other brothers who exit Church with us. Mickey wasn’t involved, as he isn’t part of this chapter, but he asked me to join him when I got out. Brothers might knowofMickey, but few talk to him. I think half fear what the man can do. I see him for the asset that he is. The guy comes from a large-ass family, and a smart one at that. They spread themselves all over the world and dive into any rebellion they can find. If there’s one happening someplace, you can bet your ass that Mickey’s family involved.
Hell, the only reason the Hounds sent him and no one else to Russia was because of his connections. His cousin got us with the underground, hooking us up with the armory we needed and the people who were expendable. Not that we wanted to, but everyone knew the score: go after Ivan and you chance not coming back. I didn’t ask how many we lost when we raided that asshole’s place; I just know we won, and I brought back the people I went in with. Sometimes it’s easier to think of it that way and not worry about what was left behind.
Callousis probably the word to use for me, but it’s what I need to do to survive. Living with regret all day, every day, is no way to live. Just forces the guilt on yourself for lives lost in a war you were part of. Ivan may have made this personal for me, but he also made it personal for so manywho volunteered to help. To each his own. If they were anything like me, it didn’t matter if they were the one who shot the bastard dead, just that they were a part of it and got to see him fall in the end.
“How’s the hand?” Mickey asks as he gestures to my bandage that General redid.
I rotate it, feeling the ache and the pain before I shrug it off and put it down by my side. “I’ll live. You?”
He nods. “Same. General said the doc got all the shattered bone fragments out, but it’s going to be a bitch to heal. Wants me to be on rest for longer than I’ve got. Told him to fuck off. He stuck me with the knee brace and already called my president. Guy already left me three messages demanding that I get my ass some rest, or he’s pulling my patch.”
I huff a laugh at that. Hounds don’t like to be benched. Leave it to General to call every person he knows to get what he wants from a patient. If Mickey’s ma was still with us, he’d have called her too.
“He’s still working on Kooper,” he says softly after blowing out smoke from his last drag.
I nod, already knowing this. Church was held off for as long as we could, but decisions needed to be made, and Bulldog finally called the meeting to order with both General and Kooper on the outside. He had their votes already. Things needed to be handled, and waiting wasn’t a luxury we had. If things were different, then that would be one thing. When the votes were called, it was unanimous, and the club had a new mother chapter president. And Casper’s it. Bulldog never wanted to go up in the ranks, happy in his role as theVP. The obvious choice for the club was always Casper. He was born to lead, to take charge.
A horn blares a second before a truck—mytruck—slams on the brakes and waits for the gate to open. It takes a second, and the person driving has no problem blasting the horn over and over again.
“Fucker’s inpatient,” Mickey says as he stands and watches, just like half the damn club who’s come out to see what’s going on.
“You have no idea,” I mutter as I take a few steps toward the gate. I already know who it is. Can see her pissed-off look from here, and I’m already sporting half a chub just from that alone.
As soon as the gate is wide enough for my truck to get through, she still smashes the damn side mirror off. On purpose, no doubt. She gets as far as where I’m standing before parking and hopping out, fire on her heels.
“What the fuck, Milly? You borrow my truck, and this is how you treat it? I oughta tan that ass—”
