Page 34 of Wreckage of My Life
“Sleep well?” Wyatt’s amused voice calls from the entrance to the living room.
“Just peachy,” I rumble, then go back to trying to find a more comfortable position.
“We should probably talk before Ali’s up.” He comes and sits down on the coach across from me, arms crossed over his chest, an appraising look in his eyes.
“So,” I try to distract him, “you and Ali, huh? Thought you were just best friends.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call her Ali,” he barks at me. My eyebrows go up in surprise. I’d laugh out loud if I had the energy.
“What am I supposed to call her?”
“Alison. That’s her name,” he points a finger at me. I’m sure he’d try to beat me up if I was in any shape to defend myself.
“Alison,” I roll her name on my lips. “I like Ali better,” I decide.
“I’m gonna fuck you up, Dyl,” he mutters, making an effort not to raise his voice at me.
“Get in line, fucker,” I chuckle, but it turns into a painful cough when the pain in my ribs reminds me why I’m in this goddamn situation.
“What the fuck happened? Last I’d talked to you, you were just riding here.”
“Yeah,” I nod in agreement. And it’s the truth. “Our father wanted me to detour through Wisconsin. Meet with the Vipers’ prez.”
Wyatt’s breath hitches in the back of his throat. He may not be involved in the club, but he knows a lot more than what a normal civilian would. It’s like the saying goes, you can take the boy out of the club, but you can’t take the club out of the man. I wonder if I’d be like that too should I get the fuck out one day.
“Solo run? Isn’t that against the rules?”
“You’d think, right? Unless you want to set someone up for whatever reason. Then you send them on a run but tell them it’s not a run.” That’s as much as I’m willing to share at this point. The less Wyatt knows, the better.
“What’s the end game?”
Me dead. That’s the obvious to me answer. But again, I don’t tell him that. Getting my brother involved in club business when he never wanted to have anything to do with it is something I am not willing to do, no matter what he thinks of me.
“That’s what I need to find out,” I tell him, but don’t meet his eyes.
“So, the Vipers followed you from Wisconsin and tried to shoot you?”
Ha, I wish. I almost say it, too. The voice of the female I heard last night was most definitely Mia’s. I didn’t recognize the man she was with, though the voice did sound familiar. Nor did I hear them naming any names on who paid them to take me out. I got a hunch, but I don’t know if I can go shoot first, ask questions later based on that.
“I’ll have to figure this shit out,” I tell Wyatt, my tone definitely implying that we need to cut this conversation short. “You got any food?”
“I gotta feed you now, too?” he starts giving me shit. “Saving your life was not enough?”
“Technically, it was Ali who saved my life,” I point out the obvious.
“Fucker, call her Ali one more time…”
“Or what?” I grunt out, acting all tough but barely able to keep my head up right.
Wyatt gives me the finger, then heads to the kitchen where he starts throwing shit into a pan, making quite a bit of noise. Not long after, he walks back in with a plate in his hand. I smile when I see what’s on it.
“You still like breakfast burritos?”
“Fuck yeah,” he chokes out right before taking a huge ass bite out of his. I take a few bites out of the half he gave me, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to eat much. I just need something in my stomach so I don’t pass out after taking some pain pills.
His woman finally makes an appearance, and I watch in fascination as my brother turns into a softer version of himself.
“Look who’s up.” He sounds so happy to see her, I feel bitter and jealous.
