Page 813 of The Tempted

I fist my hands at my sides, itching to punch a fucking wall but there aren’t any left standing. I glance over my shoulder at the nomads, sifting through the dust, maybe Pipe’s right.

“One of you stay with him and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid,” I order.

“Can you define stupid?” Deuce asks.

“Don’t let him fucking kill anyone,” I growl. “Including himself,” I add. Turning around to I stomp through the grit toward my truck. I pause mid step and divert my attention back to them. “Did you happen to find the table?”

“He’s kidding right?” Deuce asks absurdly.

“Smartass,” I sneer. “It’s there somewhere. Wolf was dragging it before he collapsed.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Cobra says.

I nod before continuing for my truck. Once I reach the car, I toss the flag into the passenger seat and stare at it for a moment, wishing the table was as indestructible as the red, white and blue cloth staring back at me, desperate for a sign that the club engrained into my soul wasn’t dead too.

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