Page 56 of Parrish

“Any change?” he questions, keeping his eyes on Reina through the glass.

“No,” I respond, reaching behind me to cup the back of my neck. Rolling my head, I try to work the kinks out as he looks at me. “How’s Danny?”

“Still shook up,” he admits. “Lacey is outside in the waiting room. She’s going to go to Wolf’s house, pick him up and take him back home with her but she wants to see you before she leaves. She called your doctor.”

That explains the calls.

“She shouldn’t be here,” I tell him. “She needs to rest.”

“I told her that, but you know her.”

“She’s stubborn as shit,” I growl.

“I wonder where she gets it from,” he says, cocking his head to the side as he studies me. “Holden called.”

“Yeah, I got a bunch of missed calls from him.”

“And Grace showed up here with Victor’s attorney in tow—well, his son. He practices too,” he reveals, causing me to squint in confusion. Before I can ask him why Schwartz was here, he drops the bomb. “Did you know Reina and Grace were conspiring with him?”

“What do you mean conspiring with him?”

“Apparently Grace got in Reina’s head and suggested she become your healthcare proxy. The younger Schwartz was at the D.A.’s office waiting for you to turn yourself in.”

“Why the hell would she do that?” I ask, glancing at Reina through the partition. “And why wouldn’t she tell me?”

“Like you told her everything you did?” he counters, and I angrily slice my eyes back to him. “I guess she was grasping for a sliver of control. Can’t say I blame her, Jack. She didn’t want to lose you to the system and she sure as fuck didn’t want to lose you to your maker either. If she became your proxy, and you refused treatment, she could veto that shit.”

My gaze wanders back to Reina as the anger flees me. How can I be mad at her for wanting to keep me sane? She’s always taking care of me, bringing me into the light. Even when I don’t ask for it. When I don’t deserve it.

“I retained Schwartz.”

My head snaps back and I narrow my eyes at him.

“What the hell for?”

I watch him push his hair from his eyes and draw in a deep breath.

“Nico couldn’t identify the ink,” he informs. “And, I’m going to be straight with you, I’m not so sure Wolf is buying the cartel scenario.”

“I don’t give a shit what—”

“Let me talk,” he clips, forcing me to bite the inside of my cheek to give him the courtesy. Blowing out a ragged breath, he runs his fingers through his hair again. “He’s trying to run a tight ship, keep the club clean. I respect that, but you and I know it’s a fucking pipe dream. There is always going to be something, someone, another fucking club looking to piss on our territory.”

“The nature of the beast,” I say.

“Yeah, well the beast ain’t ours to tame anymore,” he points out, running his fingers over the worn leather of his vest, where his V.P. patch once was proudly displayed. He’s right. We used to be the men in control and now it’s Wolf and Pipe calling the shots.

“What are you getting at?” I question.

His brown eyes peer back at me and he doesn’t have to say a word, I know the answer. It’s what happens between two people who have had one another’s back for as long as we’ve had each other’s. It’s the trust, the loyalty and the thirst for power. An insatiable desire to beat the odds together. It’s the silent language spoken between two brothers who know the game and play it well.

A game they can’t quit no matter how hard they try.

No matter how much they want to.

“What’s your gut telling you, Jack?”

“You know what it’s telling me, Black. This was no fucking accident,” I reply, jutting my thumb over my shoulder. “My wife is in that bed because those motherfuckers put her there.”

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