Page 23 of Wreckage of Me
Nothing of what he tells me makes much sense.
“So can I?” he finally brings us full circle to the beginning of our fucked up conversation.
“Can you what?” I ask in a cool tone, even though I know exactly what he means.
“Can I bring Sugar with me?” he clarifies, eyes dilated from excitement.
“Does she want to come with you?” The more he talks the more worried I am getting.
“I was going to take her with me tomorrow morning,” Shortie’s voice lowers now. “Or maybe tonight if…”
“Shortie,” I cut him off, my patience getting close to zero. “Did you run this by Sully or Puck?” I can’t imagine they wouldn’t say anything to me had they known about this madness.
“Uh, no.” Shortie’s hesitation gives me pause. I have a bad feeling that while he didn’t discuss any of this with Sully or Puck, he may have done something worse. Talked to Mia Smith about our plans to blow up the club house. With my father in it.
Fuck.
“Have you spent time alone with Sugar since she got back?”
Shortie’s eyes just bounce around in his head, moving from side to side, almost as if he is debating how to answer, trying to gauge my reaction either way.
“She came to see me last night,” he finally admits. His hand comes up and he starts scratching at the side of his head to the point where I worry he may start bleeding.
“What happened?” I prod him as gently as I am capable of doing.
“We have history, you know,” he reminds me in a bashful tone. I think he’s even blushing. “From before…”
I fight the urge to growl at him and throw this fucking electronic tablet against the nearest wall.
“Shortie.” I bark his name out, and he stops talking right away. “Listen to me, and listen well.”
“Yes, Wrecker,” he bobs his head up and down.
I stare him down, wanting to make sure that he truly is paying attention.
“How important is Sugar to you?” Bile rises in the back of my throat at the thought of the mother of my son. I can’t believe I let this happen.
Shortie doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Very.”
“And you want her to leave with you, huh?”
“Yes,” Shortie grins into the camera, looking like a lunatic all of a sudden. He’s always been on the weird side, but was able to control himself. This thing with Sugar is throwing him off though.
I scoot closer to the camera and almost whisper into the mic. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“What’s that?” I have his full attention.
“The building is rigged, right?” I confirm first.
“Yes,” he nods big. “Sully and Puck did it all, and I connected it to a Bluetooth system. We had to connect a couple of different ones, but I did it.” His small chest swells up in pride, and he sounds almost as if he’s simple minded.
“I’m proud of you, brother,” I smile in appreciation. “And I know it was you who made sure Pops and Snake would be there tomorrow morning.”
“Damn straight,” he crosses his arms over his chest and grins.
“Very well,” I praise him some more. “And to show my gratitude, I want to do something for you,” I point at him on the screen.
“You do?” He is so giddy as he waits for my next words, he glows.
