Page 102 of Being Lost

“Maybe so. But I could have died the day we met, and you would have happily sat and watched and wouldn’t have lifted a finger to stop my drowning. I was never anything to you, was I, Snake?”

“You’ll fuck up.”

“Get lost, Snake. Go back and sup with the Devil.”

Snake starts to shimmer.

I’m strong. Stronger than he was. He always put himself first. The difference between us is I know I come last. I’d choose my woman, my brothers and club before myself.

For once, I advance on the shadowy figure, and it’s he who steps back. Pointing my finger at him, I snarl, “You’re dead, Snake. I’m alive. I’ll never have my patch burned off. I’ll be a Satan’s Devil when I die.”

Flames start flickering, a cleansing fire burning, the effect like paper charring gradually blackening his image. His mouth opens in a silent scream as the fires of Hell consume him completely and there’s nothing of him left.

He’s gone. The air suddenly seems easier to breathe as though I’ve banished him once and for all.

I’m me. My own man. Maybe I’m called Lost, and maybe I always will be, but maybe being Lost doesn’t mean that I am.

One side of my mouth turns up, then the other, feeling like a weight has been lifted off me. I let plans for the night settle onto the back burner as I remember I’ve got another, and far pleasanter matter to address.

At last I exit the meeting room and go to find my woman.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Patsy

When my son nudges me in the side, I turn to see Lost striding toward me like a man on a mission.

“I think you’re wanted, Mom,” Dan tells me, his face split in a wide grin.

“We need to talk.” Lost sounds as serious as that look on his face.

I swallow and jerk my head up and down. “Of course.”

“Upstairs.” His word is barked, short and direct, but not stated cruelly. He’s clearly got something on his mind.

“We’ll talk later,” I throw at my son, before following in the direction Lost has already started going in. “Is something wrong?” I ask quietly, as I catch up with him.

“What? No.” He pauses mid-step, turning to face me. “Just need to ask you something.”

Well, it can’t be about Alder or this mess, else he’d probably have brought it up in front of my son. Unless it’s about Dan. It’s urgent, whatever it is. As Lost resumes his steps, I try to keep up with his long strides.

We come to his door, he opens it, then gentleman-like steps back to let me enter before him.

I’m no sooner inside when his hands come to my arms and he swings me around to face him.

“Want those lips now.” His mouth comes down, I raise my head, going on tiptoe to meet him.

One of his hands curls around my neck, that possessive, controlling touch I love. Our tongues duel, and I can’t get enough, addicted to his taste and the feeling of his mouth moving against mine. His smell of leather and man so comforting, making me feel like I’ve come home.

At last he pulls back, bending slightly so his cheek rests against mine. “Fuck, Patsy. I’ve missed you.”

“It’s only been a couple of hours,” I remind him.

“Only?” He smiles, then pulls away and takes my hand, leading me over to his sofa, and indicating I should sit down.

“Babe? The brothers have voted. You’re my official ol’ lady now.”

My eyes widen. “I thought we’d wait until we knew what I was doing.”

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