Page 32 of Forsaking All Others

“We gotta cut that in half,” I announce.

Those words are met with a lot of grunts and groans, but they quickly get back to work, tearing the fucking shit out of the next coffin. Leaving them to it, I make my way to the other end of the room where our tech guy, Wiz, has been working on another project.

“Where we at with the phone?” I question.

“Clean and ready to go,” he responds, holding the phone out for me to take. “We’ll be able to track him the whole way and the only calls he’ll be able to make are to us.”

“Good work,” I praise.

Taking the phone from him, I shove it inside my kutte. The door opens and Leftie storms inside. The sight of him immediately incites a stream of curses from my mouth. The man don’t move as quick as he’s moving unless he’s at an all you can eat buffet which means his balls are in a twist and I am not in the fucking mood to entertain that shit.

“Maverick!”

Jesus fuck.

“Now is not a good time, old man,” I grunt.

“See if I give a fuck,” he sneers as he stalks toward me. Reaching me, he smacks me upside the head. “Where is your phone and why aren’t you picking it up?”

I narrow my eyes and pat my pockets, then I remember I put it on the charger in my room when the guys got back with the guns. The thing keeps dying on me and doesn’t hold a charge for long. Anyway, between helping them unload the trucks and the coffin debacle I never grabbed it. If I’m lucky it’s fifty percent charged.

“Holly’s been trying to get in touch with you for hours, you stupid fuck,” he hisses. “The kid got sick in the middle of the night.”

Leftie knows my kids’ names, but he’s been calling Tara, ‘the girl’ since me and Holly announced to the club we were having a daughter, and when we shared Shepard was a boy, Leftie immediately dubbed him ‘the kid’. Both names stuck, so when he says the kid is in the hospital, I know he’s referencing my boy. My very accident prone boy who over the years has garnered the love of many emergency room nurses.

It’s that Burnside charm—there’s no immunity for it.

Sighing, I swipe a hand over my head.

“What’d Shep break this time?”

Leftie shakes his head.

“It’s not Shepard, it’s her other boy,” he clarifies.

My hand falls from the top of my head and I cross my arms against my chest.

It’s not unusual for Holly to call me when something is wrong with one of the kids—even if that kid is Theo. But that only happens if Colt is on the road.

“When she couldn’t get a hold of you, she called me and asked me to take the kids to school,” Leftie continues breathlessly. On top of arthritis, the poor bastard battles asthma too. He pauses, reaching into his denim kutte, and pulls out his inhaler. He takes a hit and I narrow my eyes, processing his words.

“Wait a minute,” I say, trying to make sense of what he’s saying. “You took Shep and Tara to school?”

“Picked them up too.” He pockets the inhaler. “They’re in my car right now but seeing how there is a coffin on the pool table and another one on top of the fucking bar I’m going to guess I shouldn’t bring them in here.” He waves his hand around the room before bringing his eyes back to me. “What the fuck is going on, Maverick?”

Ignoring his question, I uncross my arms and take a step closer to him. As concerning as it is that Holly had to rush Theo to the hospital, the fact Colt ain’t there holding her hand is more alarming. I’m starting to get the sense I’ve got bigger fucking problems than my kids catching sight of a bunch of coffins.

“Where’s Colt?” I growl.

“Man woke up,” Leftie replies vaguely, shrugging his shoulders.

I stare at him blankly, waiting for him to elaborate.

Crickets, fucking crickets.

“Leftie, I’m running out of patience here and you talking in riddles ain’t helping matters.”

“Well, let me spell it out for you, Mav, Colt got tired of you and Holly fucking around,” he hisses, poking a finger against my chest. “Warned you, man.”

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