Page 21 of Rogue

She clicks the speaker off and lifts the phone to her ear. Reaching over, I take the phone down from her ear, click speaker on again. She rolls her eyes.

“There is a thing called privacy, Jennings.”

“And you got a target on your back, buttercup, so all information from all parties should be shared equally. You share, I share, that’s how this goes and you keep breathin’.”

She blinks studying me. “You’re serious,” she whispers and I nod.

Reluctantly, she leaves the phone on speaker and holds it out in front of her. Joining her on the couch, I sit beside her with my arm draped around her, scooting her to me, and my hand resting on her ass.

“Listening doesn’t require touching, Jennings,” she informs.

I laugh, “you and me sharin’ space, buttercup, my hand on is on you somewhere.”

“Does he call you buttercup?” comes from the phone.

“No-,” she mutters at the same time, I say, “yup.”

“We have things to discuss later, cousin,” Giulia tells her with an under laced warning as if Michele has been hiding something.

“We’re new,” I intercede. “She’s still comin’ to terms with it.”

“We are not a we, Jennings. I need to talk to Giulia.”

“Okay, buttercup, we are a lot of things, especially once we sort your shit. That sweet cunt, I ain’t givin’ it up, baby.”

“Oh my God,” Giulia mutters, “you two can fuck this out once we hang up.”

“I’m not fucking him!”

“Not yet,” I reply, “we need to get rid of your problem first.”

“I can’t get to you, Chelle-Belle,” Giulia mutters, deciding to change subjects to her intention in calling, “Pilot went to land atthe private airstrip. Benny already had men in play. Wasn’t safe, my team said fly over. I’m in Mississippi for now, trying to sort getting to you or getting protection to you.”

“She’s got protection,” I interject.

“Who are you?” Giulia asks, knowing the minute she gets my name she’s going to put her people on it.

“Jennings McCoy Benson, known to my friends as Rogue. Forty-four years old. Own one truck a 1998 Chevy, own one SUV a 2024 Chevy Tahoe, I trade up the Tahoe every two years, always navy blue. I have two Harley-Davidson motorcycles, both yellow. I served for nine years in the United States Navy as a SEAL. Medically retired after sustaining a shrapnel wound that caused permanent nerve damage in my left forearm and into my left hand. My social security number is 878923555, you will find I have a credit score in the eight hundreds, my house is paid in full along with two others. On paper, I’m an upstanding citizen of the United States. The flip side of that coin, I live my life by my own code because laws are nothing more than political bullshit. The law of man on a code is more stringent and holds more weight. I smoke weed to keep the tremors at bay in my arm and I won’t apologize for it. I have killed motherfuckers abroad and stateside. Cross me or someone I care about and I won’t hesitate to end you. Got a dead wife, dead daughter, drinking and driving killed them. I was overseas when it happened. Got no family left except the Kings of Carnage and that club is my life so you touch them, I’ll end you too.”

Michele blinks, “why are you an open book suddenly?”

“Your cousin is cut from the same cloth as me and my brothers. She has her world, her reasons, her code. She understands what I’m saying.” I explain and Michele looks lost.

“Chelle-Belle matter to you?” Giulia asks me and I lock eyes to Michele.

“Before today, wasn’t sure. Had a taste. Like it, yeah, she matters. Can’t say it’s a lifetime thing, can tell you I’d like an opportunity to explore.”

“I like him, Chelle-Belle,” Giulia tells her cousin and Michele rolls her eyes. “Your club with you on this?”

“Yes,” I confirm while Michele shakes her head.

“Giulia, I’ll come to you. You can keep me safe.”

There is muttering on the other end of the line, but I can’t determine what they are saying. “I can’t. He got the head start, I told you this morning. He already zeroed in. This biker you have shacked up with, his club is the best we got until I can find Benny and eliminate the threat.”

“Giulia, he’s not going to let that happen.” Michele tells her cousin with fear in her voice. “I know what I have to do. He doesn’t want you, he wants me. Two men have died because of me already. No one else dies.”

“NO!” Giulia barks back.

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