Page 55 of Forsaking All Others

Maverick Burnside

“He calledfrom the burner phone, said he needed to speak with Holly or he wasn’t going to go through with the job.”

Digesting those words, I swirl the amber liquid around in the glass before lifting it to my lips. I knock back the shot and pour myself another as pieces of my brief conversation with Colt play over and over inside my head.

I knew he was cracking, heard it in his voice when he asked if Theo was his, but I was too angry and too goddamn selfish to give a damn.

I lift my gaze back to King.

He wasn’t here by the time I brought Holly and the kids to the compound. Hell, half the club was missing. Come to find out, they were scoping out the scene of the crime, watching from afar as the fire department put out the flames on the trailer.

“Then what happened?” I growl, my fingers tightening around the glass.

“I tried to talk him down,” King reveals. “I figured he had come to his senses about the boy and wanted an update, so I told him the kid was fine.”

I close my eyes.

There’s something about King’s words that irk me. I don’t know if it’s the nonchalance of his tone when he speaks of Colt worrying over his kid or the fact he doesn’t reference Theo by his name. King doesn’t know what it’s like to sit in fear for your child. He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel so fucking helpless you can’t breathe. I’ve experienced that debilitating fear quite a few times with Tara and Shep and today, between glaring at every doctor and nurse who poked Colt’s boy and trying to keep an even head, Theo nestled his way inside me. He took root to a place specifically carved for his brother and sister and that needs to be made clear.

“The boy has a name,” I grind out, opening my eyes. I fix King with a glare, then I stare down the table at all my brothers. “It’d be wise if you all remembered that. Didn’t think I’d have to say the words, but I’ll give them to you anyway. Theo, his name is Theo, and he’s got Tara and Shepard’s blood running through his veins which makes him mine.”

Silence fills the already tense room and it’s broken when Ghost clears his throat, forcing my eyes to land on him.

“Brother, I think I speak for everyone at this table when I say you need not say any more,” he drawls as he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Theo’s been yours since he came out of Holly.”

I suppose he has.

Peeling my eyes away from him, I focus on the shot in front of me. Knocking it back, I motion for King to continue.

“Mav, I know you want the details, that you need them to help Holly sort through this, but Parrish ain’t got his guns and in three days the Corrupt Bastards are gonna realize they ain’t getting theirs either.”

I slam the empty glass on top of the table. I’ve got three kids sleeping in a ratty old bed with my ex-wife, I know how dire things are. I also know those three kids are going to bury a piece of their heart in the next few days. I’m about to unleash my fury on King when the door to the chapel storms open.

On high alert, everyone braces for the intruder. Chairs scrape across the floor, men rise to their feet and King reaches for his gun. But I don’t fucking move, I don’t even blink. I felt her before I saw her. The second her hand closed around the doorknob, my chest grew tight and my body got hot. Now my eyes are on her and those fucking flames are dragging me down.

“Put your gun down, King,” she says calmly.

Too fucking calm.

The woman’s eyes are so fucking swollen they’re barely open.

“Holly, you know better,” I warn gently.

A woman as passionate as Holly doesn’t do calm and a man familiar with that passion knows to thread lightly. She stares at me for a moment, before crossing her arms against her chest and I lean forward, bracing my hands on the edge of the table. All eyes are on us and like me, I’m sure my brothers are waiting for Holly to deliver the tongue lashing. Instead, she laughs.

It’s wicked and full of sarcasm.

It’s also gone in a flash and those puffy eyes narrow on me as she steps forward, rounding the table. She pauses next to Shady and her eyes leave me to glance at the empty shot glass in front of him.

“Rough day, Shady?” she sneers, flicking the glass with her finger. My brother catches the glass before it goes rolling down the table and flips it upside down.

“Holly,” he murmurs softly.

“I’ve had quite the day myself. A sick baby and a dead husband will do that to you,” she says, diverting her eyes to me. “You’re right, Maverick, I do know better, but I really don’t give a fuck. Not today.”

I pull in a breath, breaking our stare. My hand wraps around the gavel.

“Maverick,” King calls.

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