Page 57 of Gypsy's Lady
“Seven.” Myron dropped his head, staring at the table. He muttered under his breath, “Shit.”
“What?” Gypsy gawped at him.
With a sigh, Myron said, “Seven. There are seven continents. If you count Europe and Asiaas one,there are six, but most people count them separate. They’re so different, it doesn’t matter if they’re joined by a landmass.” Myron rolled his eyes. “Sorry. Go on, brother.”
“Fuck’s sake.” Mason sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Get to the goddamned point, Gypsy.”
“My point—” He glared at Myron who curled a lip in response. “—is we’re stronger together. That’s why Blue Line calledEstavez who speaks for the Machos, and it’s why you’ve already invested in the Malcontents, and the Hawks, and the Jailbreakers, and the Legends. We’re stronger together. Doesn’t matter if one club wears a support patch, or not. By sitting at a table and breaking bread, by finding places where we can support like-minded clubs, we strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. Those have never depended on wearingthe same patch, and you know it. You called Bones brother long before he rolled the Skeptics into the RWMC, and you’ll call Estavez brother regardless of nationality.” He sucked in a deep breath, surprised at his sudden conviction, unsure if this was the right place to say it, but remembering Kelsey’s face as she cuddled with Belle on Joel’s couch decided him. Nary was stronger because she’dhad Kelsey to care for. Kelsey could do the same for Belle. “And I hope you’ll still call me brother if I don’t wear your patch.”
Mason’s head rocked back, but he never took his eyes off Gypsy. “That so?”
“I hope. I’d miss your biting wit otherwise,” Tugboat chimed in from across the table, where he’d also reclaimed his seat.
“You, too, old man?” Mason’s brow furrowed, and he looked like he’dtaken a bite out of a lemon. “Leaving me too?”
“Blood.” Tugboat’s word hung in the air and Mason shoved out a heavy sigh, followed by a slow nod.
“I’d like to go on the record here as being the only club on the call not currently asking to patch one of Mason’s men.” Estavez sounded amused. “But Hurley is a possibility, if things continue with my daughter in the way they’ve begun.”
There wasa rustling sound from the phone, and then Hurley’s voice, choked with laughter, “Does that mean I can call you Papi?”
“Jesus,” Mason muttered. “How the fuck did we get here?” Myron lifted his head, and Mason gestured sharply. “No, don’t answer. That was rhetorical.”
Gypsy turned to meet Blue Line’s gaze. “We’ll talk,” he said, and Blue Line nodded.
“Goddammed right we will.”
Turning to lookaround the room, Gypsy took in the expression of grief on Mason’s features. They locked gazes for a moment before Gypsy asked, “This means everything changes, doesn’t it?”
Shaking his head, Mason leaned over to grip Gypsy’s shoulder. “No. No, you fucking asshole, it doesn’t. Nothing changes.” He rocked Gypsy back and forth in his chair, his hold tight and secure. “Brother.”
***
Kelsey
Curledon the bed in the room on loan to her and Gypsy, Kelsey waited for him to return. He’d woken her this morning with a sweet kiss that had promised more. Then he’d groaned and rolled out of bed, stalking towards the bath. While behind the closed door, she’d heard his phone ring, then his deep voice rumbling and echoing. When he’d come out fully dressed, she’d sighed. Another soft kiss, the barestglide of his tongue against her lips and he’d told her he had to go, Mason and Blue Line both had called, and there was a meeting. He’d hesitated then, reaching out to touch the curve of her cheek before turning to walk out.
She lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, remembering the caressofhis fingertips.
Kelsey had spent time with Belle, for a long time doing little except being there and listeningas Belle talked, recounting the hours she’d spent with Norwood and his men. When Belle finally trailed off, leaning back against Kelsey’s shoulder as she stared up at a corner of the ceiling, Kelsey talked.
She’d spoken in broken cadence, bursts of words escaping as she went back and forth in time, recounting what happened to her. From meeting the man in a coffee shop who had groomed her to bekidnapped, to the moment Nary had shown up, and then back to the beginning days, when there was still a hope she would be purchased, knowing being owned by a stranger was better than being Baxter’s pet.
When she got to the point in her story where Gypsy had burst through the door, Kelsey had paused, wondering if she should keep Gypsy’s secret. Belle had read between the lines, and told her, “Doesn’tmatter what he did in the saving of you. What matters is the saving.” In that way, Gypsy’s killing of her tormenter went unspoken, but Kelsey knew Belle understood.He killed for me. Didn’t even know me, and he protected me by risking everything.
Now it was late, and after Belle fell asleep, Kelsey had headed to bed, not knowing when the men would be back. The room came off as too strange, asif the sizes and dimensions had changed throughout the day, the bed now too big for just her. Last night sleeping beside Gypsy had been the best part of normal…right, her space at his side carved out by the hundreds of nights preceding it. Now, Kelsey was small, too small, not taking up enough space, and the bed was too new, no scent of Gypsy hovering like a comforting ghost yet. She had a thoughtand got out of bed to pad to the bags along the wall. Plucking at the straps holding Gypsy’s closed, she found a shirt of his and lifted it to her face, breathing deeply. Her heart had been hammering, tripping along inside her chest at a rapid pace, until at the familiar scent of Gypsy, it slowed and she felt like she could breathe again.
She stripped off her shirt and was shaking out Gypsy’swhen the door opened. Kelsey was locked in place for a moment, terrified because she was naked and she hadn’t heard anyone approaching. But it was Gypsy standing in the doorway, head turned to speak to someone behind him. Blue Line laughed briefly then spoke a quiet, “Sleep well, brother.”
Then Gypsy turned and his eyes caught on her.He’s so handsome. He stared as he slowly closed the door behindhim, gaze flicking from where her arm held the shirt pressed against her chest up to her face, and back down. Kelsey dipped her chin and smiled at him before murmuring, “You’re home.”
He tipped his head to the side and smiled at her, one corner of his mouth curling up charmingly. “Yeah, I’m back. What are you doing still up, darlin’?”
Kelsey blinked. She didn’t want to tell him she couldn’tsleep because the pillows didn’t smell like him.He’ll think I’m a right ninny. “Heading to bed now.” As if she hadn’t been lying there sleepless for the past two hours.
Gypsy walked to the dressing table and dropped the contents of his pockets, one handful at a time. He sighed, the sound filled with exhaustion. “I’m tired, baby. Been a long couple of days.” Shrugging off his vest, he foldedand draped it over the edge of the surface. Then his hands went to the hem of his shirt. As he liftedhisup and off, she attempted to pull the one in her hands over her head. It twisted around and she struggled for a moment to get her arms in right, finally succeeding in pushing her head through the neck hole. Kelsey glanced up to see Gypsy was motionless, hands on the fastening of his jeans,belt already sagging open. He was looking at her reflection in the mirror and she nervously smoothed the shirt down over her hips.
“You’re tired?”
