Page 166 of Preacher Man

A lot of talk later, the woman, to be fair was nice once she warmed up and didn’t look at Preacher like he was gonna murder her, said she would be in touch and that Ruby’s application was being discussed in the next day or two. Waiting; It was all they could do now.

He held her hand watching the blue car pull away with Sebastian in the back seat, trying to be so brave, he felt her shaking holding the tears back. Little dude had barely murmured a word, so used to being shuffled here and there.

“We’re going to get him for you, beautiful. I promise you that,” he told her quietly.

She was a blank stare besides him, he could practically hear how she was internally putting herself back together, fashioning her walls in place so she didn’t break apart. Jesus, he hoped he could keep that promise.

His boys took off back to the club, he led Ruby over to the SUV, stopped before he could open the passenger door, his gut so damn tight he almost squeezed out a diamond.

She wasn’t talking, wasn’t looking at him.

Putting his mouth to her ear he asked quietly. “Have I lost you, Ruby?” His frown practically masked his vision. “I didn’t want you to see that side of me, what I did to him…”

******

Hearing the tenor in his voice finally, the noise breaking through her own whirling mind, Ruby’s head came up, eyes sparkled by unshed tears widened, she let go of the stress filled breath. “God, no. He deserved it. I wished I’d punched him. I always hated that slime bag.”

When he’d walked back towards her in the SUV, she couldn’t read his ice eyes even though she searched his face, his gaze shuttered, banking the frigid stare, she only had one thought, his features twisted in anger and protection, he looked like the fucking prince of darkness coming to avenge a one-hundred-year crime against humanity. The thoughts running through her head were far from decent. He’d gone to bat for her and knocked that fucker out of the park.

Was it the wrong time her loins all barked? Sure, but it was still the truth. She flung her arms around him hugging him fiercely. Every part of him stiffened before his arms came around her a second later crushing her much smaller bones. She didn’t care, he felt fantastic. “You were fucking amazing. Allgrrrand hot. I mean, tough guy. Like a less-green Hulk. You saved Seb, thank you so much, Asher.“ And the blowback of his hot protection meant she was turned up to level ten. Knowing he performed that act of violence for her, that he’d called his boys in for her, it was fucking heady as any drug she could think of that would give that same rush of heat through her bloodstream.

Preacher, the unlikely hero. Like the Green Arrow, the TV show, not the dismal movie she refused to believe even existed, but way cooler. He wasthatman in books and he'd done it for her.

He pulled back, arched a brow, smiled a little. “Hot?”

“Maybe a little,” she bit her lip, controlled the urge to pounce because really, Ruby, this was not the time.

----Danger. Is what she should have been telling herself, oh, not because of what Preacher had done to Dwayne, that asshole deserved every broken bone and scream that came his way, she hoped he got a nice guy called big Al as his cellmate in lock up that liked to do nasty things with soap, no, the danger warning was for her own damn self, this was all make believe, pretend, her marriage might have all the usual trappings of a happily ever after, she was living with him, she was sleeping with him, and the diamond sat on her finger, but sooner or later he’d tell herthis was fun and all, Rubes, but there are waitresses waiting for me. God. Bile snuck up on her, rose in her throat before she swallowed reflexively.

Feelings sucked.

Getting attached sucked worse than anything.

Falling in love with your own heroic husband, that was the road to ruin.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

“Boys, we officially have the legacy of the Renegade Soul’s happening right now.” – Rider

As it turned out being an outlaw wasn’t favorable to the state when they were handing over kids to brand new foster/adopted parents. Archie had told him the holdup was the CPS were looking into Preacher’s past and his two D&D’s. More than a handful of years ago he’d gotten those drunk and disorderly charges, spent a couple nights in the drunk tank to sober up before they let him go, no real prison time but it was coming back to bite him in the ass. Worse, it was another day spent for Ruby knowing her nephew wasn’t at home with her. She was being strong, said she didn’t blame him, it was one of those shitty state hold-ups, she was being too understanding, he blamed himself.

If there was one thing Preacher hated and that was failing.

He was doing it spectacularly as it goes. So much for producing the marriage certificate being the magical fix, it was his name that was making them question about giving the boy to Ruby. That kind of civil servants had a special brand of condescension that set Preacher’s teeth on edge, they saw in black and white, didn’t matter he had been an upstanding (outlaw) or that he’d never (been caught) done anything illegal in recent years. It was there in black and white on his police record two D&D’s so it made him the scum of the earth. He could plead his case, he supposed, if it came to it, he was still holding out hope for Archie’s persuasive nature to go to work and earn the money the club paid him by pulling some lawyer mojo out of his ass and win this for them.

They’d had two relatively quiet days, they’d heard from the sheriff, Dwayne was charged with manslaughter after singing like a canary under questioning and was being kept in pre-trial detention until a date could be set. Rather than being angry for the lesser charge Ruby had nodded at Charlie, told him thanks for letting her know and then got on with life. He didn’t know whether she was due for a full-blown crack or she truly was alright.

She’d been to church earlier, he’d dropped her off outside, now he was at the club about to walk inside, he sat on his bike for a long time, lost in his own head.

Struck with a sense of personal inadequacy, Preacher ran a hand around the back of his head and sighed up to the approaching night sky. Protecting people was what he'd always done well. Until he didn't. And now it seemed he was fucking up left and right and because of his slightly colourful illegal past, Ruby might lose the kid to the system for good if they proved he wasn’t a good stepfather material. How much worse could they deem him up against the junkie father he did have? Jesus, the shit was stacking up. The right thing to do as far as he could reckon was to step away from her, to have her disassociate from him, why did that make his chest ache?

Motherfucker, couldn't one thing just go right for once? He craned his head back, the thing feeling like it weighed a small country hanging on his thick neck, the night sky swallowing him whole as each emerging star appeared to twinkle their judgment down on Preacher.

So incredibly vast and still he felt like an ant. His lungs inhaled the cooler air, summer was coming, it would be hotter than Satan’s ballsack soon, not that he gave a shit about the seasons only that it was difficult to ride his hog in the thick snow.

He liked the summer, liked the cookouts with the club and other chapters, they'd arrive in a few months’ time for the fiftieth anniversary of the Renegade Souls MC, but he couldn’t think of any of that right now while this hung over him.

He thought of a lot of things standing with his smoke, the smoke he shouldn't be having, that was two now. Tension rode his spine; the latest drama was a doozy and he really fucking wanted to help Ruby.

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