“Ima give you and your motherfuckers a choice, Dez.”
“I’m listening.”
“Turn in your patches. We’ll set you and your families up in a different state. Talk to some contacts. Hook you up with jobs. Let you live a normal fuckin’ life. You got a fuckin’ taste of our life.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“Stay a Hound and act like you got a fuckin’ brainandfuckin’ balls.”
“The brothers I lost were my friends. I never expected…” Dez shoved his hand through his red hair. “This has been so fucking traumatic. Out of all the members we had, only us five are left. Half of the others are dead and the rest just ran. Good men. My friends,” he repeated.
Christopher gave him a sad smile. “Even though we court death with what we do, when it finds us, it’s still so fuckin’ hard.”
“It is.”
“Mort gonna give you a number to one of my brothers. His name’s Narci. He’ll do up some plaques for the members you lost.” Christopher exchanged a look with Derby, who nodded. “You Hounds now, so Derby will hang your lost members on the wall.”
“They’re Freebirds,” Dez whispered.
“Yeah, brother,” Christopher agreed.
Dez held out his hand, which Christopher accepted. “Thank you, Outlaw.”
“Take care of yourself, Dez,” Christopher responded, wishing he could stand and clap him on the back.
“Here, brother,” Mort said, handing Dez a slip of paper. “Narci’s number. Give Prez a chance to put a bug in his ear before you hit him up.”
“I will.”
“I’ll get the funds to Derby. He’ll send us the information on where you’d like to land,” Christopher told him. “It’ll be fuckin’ done within the week.”
“I feel sorry for that motherfucker, Prez,” Mort said, once Derby and Dez went back into the clubhouse.
“Me, too, Mort,” Christopher said, sighing. “Somebody should’ve clued him the fuck in before they asked to step into the big leagues.”
“Ready to ride, Prez?” Mort asked. “I got to get to the bank.”
Christopher lumbered to his feet. He couldn’t wait to get home for a cold shower and a pain killer. “Let’s ride.”
Opening the door and stepping into the foyer, Christopher paused. Waiting for his skin to prickle with awareness. Waiting for his heart to settle in his chest and his pulse to pound. But…nothing. Just pain and loneliness.
No Megan.
Then, footsteps reached him and he closed the door, waiting, hoping.Praying. Usually, he knew when she was near. His entire being came alive, but maybe his instincts were muted because Roxanne beat his ass and Megan devastated him.
“Hey, Dad,” Axel greeted, stepping into the foyer from the hallway that took them to the kitchen and all the rooms on that side. He wasn’t in uniform. He must not have gone to school.
Christopher didn’t care.
“Hey, boy.”
Axel swept his green gaze over him. “Are you still in pain?”
“Not too much,” he lied.
Disappointment flickered over Axel’s face, so brief Christopher knew he was mistaken. His kid wouldn’t want him to suffer. “Oh.”
“I need—”
