Page 31 of Blue

“About three years ago, Eric owed the Roughneck Riders some money and ripped them off.” Clark took a sip of his own coffee.

“Junkie?” The memories came together. “Lanky guy. Real squirrelly. A complete bitch?”

“We wouldn’t have a clue about all that.” Dash shrugged.

“Seems Eric is, or was, Officer Holt’s half brother.”

“So, the cop’s got a score to settle?” The sins of the Roughneck Riders never ceased to come back and bite Odin’s Fury on the ass.

“We can’t figure out how he knows it’s you specifically that sent him to Nástrond, but he must have sorted it out.” Clark put his mug down.

The urge to correct the president on the terminology died on his lips. As it was a Roughneck Rider kill, it would have been referred to as a drill, not sending him to Nástrond. It didn’t really matter. However, to him, it felt wrong to use Odin’s Fury terminology for another club’s business. Especially when that other club was so much shittier that Odin’s Fury had to swallow them up to fix it.

“Probably Angela,” Mooky blurted. Realizing that might not have been the best response, he tried to recover. “She didn’t have details or anything, but she knew when I didn’t come home. I always stayed away after doing club business. I never wanted to the kids to see me messy.”

Dash sighed.

Clark hummed.

“She doesn’t have a clue or anything,” Mooky reiterated quickly. He didn’t want them to think he’d told her anything that would put her in danger.

“She knows something,” their president commented. “Enough at least.”

“She’snothingto worry about. I’m meeting with Nate to get it sorted.”

“You keep saying that, but here we are with a cop sniffing around because of that bitch!” Clark shouted and slammed his palm down on the desk. The curl he kept on his forehead in homage to Superman flopped out of place.

Every muscle in Mooky’s body tightened. His fingers crushed the disposable cup in his hand. Anger simmered in his gut. Angela wasn’t his favorite person in the world, but she was the mother of his kids. They needed her. Mooky didn’t have to like it, but it was the truth.

He’d kept her separate from his club life on purpose. He’d done his best. She didn’t know fuck all. She was far too volatile and would have taken the club down sooner had he brought her around.

“Holt told me this morning she was useless.”

“You saw him again?” Dash sat forward and turned toward Mooky.

With the long drive and everything on his mind, he hadn’t had a chance to share that until now. Mooky tightened his lips together as he tried to think how best to present this.

“He’s been outside my mother’s house, watching my kids or some shit, waiting for me, I guess.” Mooky hung his head, rested his elbows on his spread thighs, and rested his forehead on his steepled fingers.

He’d brought up Blue too. The idea of him anywhere near Blue had Mooky’s blood boiling. His jaw tightened. His fists curled again. He had to end this mess.

This nonsense with Officer Fuck-face had gotten way out of hand. It was supposed to be a simple divorce proceeding. He should be able to end his marriage without so much fucking drama.

“What are we going to do about him?” Clark pondered out loud.

It felt rhetorical. Mooky wasn’t sure he sought an answer so much as he wanted to let it be known it was a problem.

“Gotta take it to church.” Dash ran his hand over his bald head. “Our brothers need to know. We can’t keep it between us anymore.”

Stewing in anger but resigned to the inevitable, Mooky nodded.Odin’s Furywere at risk now, too. Holt had shown up at their club businesses. He’d stalked Mooky’s kids. Who was to say he wouldn’t move on to his brothers’ kids next?

Clark sat back in his chair and covered his mouth with his hand. His index finger rested just below his nose, and he seemed lost in thought.

Mooky ending his marriage was messy enough, with Angela pulling her stupid tricks. He never imagined how this could have escalated into what lay before them. Of course, she had to get involved with a cop who had it out for the club, or him specifically. She couldn’t have picked any other douche canoe. It had to be this one.

“Get some sleep. We’ll call church later to deal with this.” Clark waved a hand, dismissing Mooky from his office.

Standing, his gut gnarled with the sense of dread. The burden of knowing they would discuss it further without him bore down on him. It wouldn’t be his choice how this got handled. He lost that privilege when Holt got involved.

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