Page 87 of Blue

“Uh, yeah?” Bewilderment carried on the prospect’s voice.

After snapping his fingers, Mooky pointed to the woman in his lap. “Collect your things. I think the poker table needs refills.”

Her eyes darted between the men. “But,” she protested.

It only took one sharp look for her to shut her mouth. At this hour, he doubted there were any brothers at the table, but that wasn’t the point. She needed to scram. He didn’t care where the hell she went as long as she was out of earshot.

Grumbling under her breath, she climbed out of the prospect’s lap and collected the few articles of clothing littered on the ground. As she clutched them to her chest, covering her breasts as though Mooky had any interest or hadn’t seen them before, she scowled at him in the dim lighting of the earliest hours of the morning. With a final huff, she stomped back toward the clubhouse. Meanwhile, the prospect zipped and re-buttoned his jeans.

A tidal wave of exhaustion rolled over Mooky. His arms were heavy at his sides. The blood splattered on his face had dried, making his skin tight. He just wanted a shower so he could put the night, and the nightmare of what had happened to Blue, behind him.

When the man looking to earn his patches stood, Mooky shifted his focus toward him. “Old Yeller needs to be put down,” he said and gestured to the woodshed.

The prospect’s gaze flicked toward the outbuilding. “Oh, uh.”

Maybe that wasn’t the right wording. “A cremation would be best.”

As though a lightbulb went off above his head, the man nodded. “Oh.” He smiled.

Mooky lifted his chin and took in the pre-dawn sky. The sun had yet to crest, but the sky had already lightened. The darkest hours were behind them.

Hope trickled into his chest as the prospect trotted to the shed.

One problem resolved. Two more before he could have everything that he wanted.

CHAPTER 31

Blue

Squeak.

Blue’s eyes snapped open, but it took her a moment to recognize the sound of the door hinges. Holding her breath, she tried to be as still as possible. Logically, she knew it’d be Mooky, but there was a slight chance it wasn’t. The clubhouse was the safest place for her to be. No one could get her there.

Despite her reassurance, her heart raced with every creaking floorboard. The distant moaning woman had her second-guessing her safety. Was it a good moan or a bad one?

Laying on her side, with her knees pulled up and her hands under the pillow, she squeezed her eyes closed. Reminding herself that the club would protect her, she pretended to sleep.

When his fingers grazed her cheek, her breath hitched.

Mooky.

“You’re okay now,” he whispered before softly kissing her temple.

He brushed some of her hair behind her ear. When his touch drifted away, she missed it immediately.

Instinctually, she rolled toward him. Barely opening her eyes, she watched the door to the bathroom close.

Gone.

A renewed sense of fear gripped her throat. Time to start the mantra over.

The clubhouse was the safest place for her. Odin’s Fury would protect her.She repeated the words in her mind to convince herself.

The fan rumbled to life as he turned on the shower.

Safe.

He said she was okay. Now.

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