Page 8 of Blood Revealed

“My sister,” I say. “Me and Chaos grew up together. My sister is like his little sister, too.”

“Yeah, little sister,” he mumbles in agreement.

“Where is she? Kentucky?”

“Nah, she’s back in Chicago. That’s where we’re from.” Chaos answers for me this time.

Boss cuts in. “Thought someone said somethin’ about Mickey D’s?”

I laugh as I mount my bike. Hannah wraps her arms around my waist to hold on while I back us out of the spot. My brothers trail close behind as I follow the old man’s directions from last night. Left out of the lot and a mile down the road, those big, beautiful golden arches reach up into the sky.

“Come on, sweetheart.” I hold my hand out to her once we park. She takes it, and we walk inside the building, getting lots of looks from the old timers who apparently congregate here for socializing. I’m used to the looks. It comes with being a Lord. We walk up to the counter and I turn to look at Hannah. “What sounds good?”

She leans way in my space to whisper in my ear. “I don’t have money.”

“Didn’t ask that. I asked what you want to eat. It’s time to order. We’re holding up the line and no one wants to get between Boss and his McGriddle.”

Hannah laughs softly, like I hoped she would. “I’d like the Big Breakfast, if that’s okay.”

It’s fine. The thing is what? Five bucks? It’s pancakes, scrambled eggs, a sausage patty, a hash brown, and a biscuit. I order one for myself too.

“Coffee or juice?” I ask.

She bites her bottom lip, as if it’s really a hard decision. “Coffee,” she finally says. “With cream and sugar, please.”

“Coming right up,” the silver-haired lady behind the counter says, pushing buttons on the machine. She must be popular with the over seventy set because several of the old codgers walk over to “talk” with her while she finishes up our orders.

Then we step aside with our number for Boss and Chaos to order. We walk to a table that seats four. A couple minutes pass and a runner delivers our trays. The breakfast is pretty good for fast food.

“I make really good pancakes,” Hannah says, stuffing a bite into her mouth. “My little sister is an excellent cook. She taught me all her best secrets.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask. “Maybe you can make me pancakes someday.”

Hannah sets her fork down on her Styrofoam tray to look at me. “Do you want that?”

I just said I did, didn’t I? “Yeah, sweetheart. I think that’d be great. I miss a homemade breakfast that doesn’t suck. Usually, it’s the prospects who cook now that Dawna…” I let that thought trail off. Hate thinking about Dawna. She’s the president’s old lady. Took care of us until the cancer came back. She’s been fighting it most of her life, but it aggressively metastasized. The prognosis isn’t good.

The brothers look down at their plates, not eating after I bring up her name. Shit, I didn’t mean to bring the group down. Hannah can’t miss our reactions to my stupid foible and has the good sense not to ask about it. Instead, she flashes me a half-hearted smile and says, “Then I’d be glad to give you a breakfast that doesn’t suck. It’s the least I can do for what you’ve done for me.”

“Any man worth calling a man woulda done the same,” Boss replies.

“Still. I wouldn’t be here to eat pancakes without you three stepping in.”

Right. Next subject. I can’t think about that or I’m liable to head back to that rig, dig up his ashes, and destroy them all over again just to prove a point.

“I’m bringing Hannah back to the club with us. She doesn’t have any place to go and I ain’t leaving her to hustle on her own.”

A stupid smirk creases the side of Chaos’s mouth. He thinks he knows me so well. “Figured,” he says. “You haven’t let her hand go once when you’re walking.”

“It ain’t like that,” I argue.

“Of course not.”

Fucker.

“Don’t know what Duke’ll say, but I don’t guess he’ll let a vulnerable thing swing out in the wind on her own. Especially not right now,” Boss says to me before tipping his head to look at Hannah. “We’ll get to keep ya at least until we find ya a forever home.”

Hannah smiles as she balls up a napkin, whipping it at Boss’s head, and we all laugh. We have to get going. Several hours on the road before we hit home and the weather’s holding out for now, but the sky’s looking dicey at best. I’m guessing Missouri’s in for one hell of a storm. And who knows what we’ll face by the time we hit Kentucky, it being winter and all.