Page 88 of Blue

The clubhouse was the safest place for her. Odin’s Fury would protect her.

Right?

With her ties to Odin’s Fury, she’d always assumed their reputation would shield her.

But it hadn’t. It had shoved her headfirst into the lion’s den.

Mooky

Birds chirped outside the window when Mooky exited the shower. It’d been the longest shower he’d taken in a while. He stepped out of the bathroom and a soft light filtered in, chasing the blackness from the room as he wrapped a towel around himself. He didn’t know how long he’d been in that shower. It felt it took an eternity to wash away the blood. In his bedroom, with water dripping from his hair, he took a moment to study Blue.

She’d tucked one arm under her pillow, the other raised over her head, almost blocking her face. On her belly, with her head turned, snoring softly, she slept on her side of his bed.

Their bed.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Mooky made sure not to disturb her. He’d almost lost her. It nearly broke him. He couldn’t allow that to ever happen again. She needed to know what she meant to him and how he would care for her.

Closing his own tired eyes, he swallowed the lump in his throat and took a deep breath. Only one more obstacle stood in their way. Once that was resolved, he could have the happy family he wanted. The one Star and River deserved.

Scrubbing his hands up and down his face, he glanced around the space. To his surprise, at the ass-crack of fucking dawn, his phone lit up from the dresser.

“What the fuck?” he muttered to himself as he stood.

Lumbering to the other side of the room, he shook his head. He had to get some rest. No human could run this long on that little sleep. No doubt, he’d have to answer for this shit at church in a few hours. Clark may have been unreadable, but his brothers were a different story. He doubted they’d be all that thrilled with the heat he may have brought to them. A few hours of sleep was all he needed to face it all.

After he slipped a pair of boxer briefs on, he snatched his phone off the dresser.

It wouldn’t be anyone in the club. They were asleep already or headed to bed themselves. The prospect wouldn’t message him on this phone. So, that meant his kids.

And at this time of day, he suspected it’d be River. He probably left his homework or something at Mooky’s new place.

Running his fingers across his forehead as the headache from lack of sleep slammed against his brain, Mooky swiped the screen of the phone to read Nate’s message.

Come to the office first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER 32

Mooky

The squeaking of the faux leather seats in the law office’s waiting room made Mooky self-conscious every time he shifted positions. He couldn’t get comfortable in them. Crossing his legs, uncrossing them, leaning over his thighs, slouching back, or sitting straight, nothing worked. The anxiety coursing through him prevented any semblance of calm.

Giving up, he stood, then paced. He needed to do something with his nervous energy. Cupping his elbow beneath the rolled sleeve of his navy button-down, with one hand, he twisted the hairs of his beard beneath his lower lip with the other. He could see the finish line. They hadn’t crossed it yet. So, anything could happen.

He didn’t trust Angela. She could have some crazy new demand at the last hour, considering recent events.

He did his best not to make eye contact with the receptionist. Despite feeling her gaze following him, a sensation he’d grown accustomed to since donning his cut for the first time, he thought it best to keep his bloodshot eyes to himself. Besides, people always stared at bikers.

Some did it out of fear, afraid of what bikers were rumored to do. Sometimes it was excitement and curiosity. Others did it out of some fetishized romanticization of bikers. Considering Mooky wasn’t oozing bravado and confidence right now, he doubted the woman behind the desk studied him with anything other than confusion. If anything, he resembled death warmed over considering he’d gotten, maybe, three hours of sleep.

Either way, he shouldn’t be nervous. He was a badass. A criminal outlaw. Machismo and attitude should come off him in waves. He wore a DILLAGAF patch, for fuck’s sake. He wasn’t supposed to give a fuck. At the very least, he should appear as though he was under control. He shouldn’t be a ball of anxiety.

Facing jail time, almost losing his woman to a deranged cop, a marriage that wouldn’t end, and his kids knowing about most of it did that to a guy. Mooky was still a human.

Closing his eyes, he paused his steps. He tried to center himself by imagining his happy place. He thought of Blue on the back of his bike, of her with his kids, having a nice afternoon lunch or some shit. He thought of their smiles and laughter together.

His fantasy felt so close yet so far away at the same time.

Thinking about it didn’t help.

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