Page 636 of One More Kiss
The two of them have had more fist fights over the last two years than all of us combined. Some say think their issues stem from years ago when Shady was affiliated with another charter. That charter got ambushed and his ol’ lady at the time became a casualty. According to Leftie the poor girl was shot ten times right in front of his eyes. That’s a fucking hell I don’t even want to imagine and the main reason I won’t tie myself to any woman. I don’t give a fuck if her pussy is made of gold—the prize just ain’t worth the consequence.
But what any of that has to do with Maverick is a fucking mystery. It’s not like he pulled the trigger or ordered the ambush.
Others believe their beef has to do with Maverick’s wife, Holly. Shady and Holly were good friends and at one time, he had love for his sister-in-law. But Holly only had eyes for Maverick.
Whatever the case, things seem to be on the mend between the two brothers ever since Shady got involved with Bianca. Although, that was another issue since Bianca was first involved with Ghost.
It’s like a fucking soap opera.
Ripping his helmet from his head, Shady plants both feet on the ground and chases after Capone.
“What’s going on?” Maverick questions, his gaze bouncing from Capone to Shady. “Where’s Tara?”
I don’t catch Capone’s response because my phone starts to ring.
“Jesus Christ, man,” Ghost grunts. “Turn that shit off.”
I quickly reach into my kutte to silence it, but I catch sight of the name flashing across my screen and in an instant the whole fucking world seems to pause.
Jo—or more commonly known as Josephine Booker. It’s been a minute since my best friend’s sister has invaded my thoughts. A shame considering she’s the woman who got me and Andrew through our tour overseas. I didn’t have much family—nobody to write me letters or send me care packages and Andrew only had Jo. She would send him boxes full of shit. I mean you name it and it was in there. Andrew could give a fuck less about snacks or magazines, so most of the time he’d just dump the box at my feet. One day I was just staring at the return address on the box, eating the beef jerky she had sent her brother and decided to write Jo a letter. It was short and sweet—just a thank you. But the next time Andrew got a package, I got one too. You hear about those people who adopt servicemen—well, Jo adopted me. From that first box until our mission failed and we were discharged, Jo kept sending me packages and letters. I appreciated the snacks and all that, but those letters—man, I fucking lived for Jo’s letters.
But I never thought I’d see the day where her name flashed across my screen. Hell, we never exchanged numbers, the only reason I have hers stored is because I stole it out of Andrew’s phone when I realized he was spiraling. I never used it though.
“Hawk,” Leftie hisses, drawing my attention away from my phone.
“I’m sorry…” I mutter, looking from him to the showdown between Maverick, Capone, and Shady. They continue to sling insults back and forth, but Ghost seems to have a handle on the situation, so my gaze cuts to Leftie again. “I’ve got to take this,” I say, holding up my phone.
He jerks his head and I step away from the ruckus. Swiping my thumb across the screen, I accept the call and lift the phone to my ear.
“Mann,” I say, barely recognizing the hoarse tone of my own voice. When she doesn’t respond right away, I go to pull the phone away from my ear and check to see if I lost the call but the sound of her short breath through the line stops me. “Jo? Are you there?”
“Mann…” she whispers.
It’s a sweet fucking sound, one that gets my blood soaring and sends my pulse skyrocketing.
However, I don’t get to bask in that sweetness for long because the words that come next make me wish she never called.
