Page 641 of One More Kiss

That might be the only thing that could’ve made this nightmare worse than what it already is.

“No, the landlady did.” I pause to glance down at the dog who has abandoned the water to stand beside me. Lifting my eyes back to Leftie, I shrug my shoulders and take another shot of Henny. “The detective called Jo,” I continue, jutting my thumb over my shoulder. “It’s just the two of them and their Aunt Barbara, but she’s in a nursing home.”

That’s another thing we’re gonna have to figure out. I don’t even know if the woman is well enough to deal with losing her only nephew.

“So what’s the plan?” Maverick ask, jarring me from my thoughts. I meet his brown eyes and see the concern radiating from them. “What do you need from us?”

The moment I took the colors of the Satan’s Knights I became theirs and they became mine. In the short time since, I’ve asked that same question a couple of times myself. I asked it when Ghost’ baby girl tragically drowned in the bathtub last winter, and I asked it more recently when Maverick’s ex-wife lost her current husband in a horrific car accident. We rallied around both men and took care of everything from funeral arrangements to making sure Maverick’s two older children were taken to and from school.

Its what brothers do.

Andrew wasn’t my brother in a motorcycle club, but he was my brother in the field. The men around me now haven’t had to stand in front of a bullet meant for me, but Andrew did. After a fifty-minute firefight that ended with three of our commando’s being killed, it was Andrew who carried me out of that terrorist compound.

That mission changed us.

It broke us.

But where I pushed through, Andrew got stuck.

I’d like to tell you I tried to help him. After all, I’m the one who encouraged him to take Chestnut, but the truth is, I could’ve done more.

I should’ve asked him what he needed from me.

I should’ve made a fucking plan.

Instead, I turned my back on the man who carried me on his and told him to seek professional help.

“Hawk,” Ink calls, pulling me away from my thoughts. My brows pinch together as his eyes dart over my shoulder. I follow his line of sight and my eyes lock with Jo’s. Standing in the doorway, wearing my Satan’s Knights tee and the sweatpants I left for her on the bed, her wet hair pulled back into a ponytail and her feet are bare. She looks exhausted and yet I’m almost certain she’s never looked prettier.

Her brown eyes dart around the room as she nervously chews on her bottom lip, taking in the scene much like she did when we first arrived.

Curious.

Apprehensive.

Defeated.

Before I can pully my head out of my ass and actually introduce her, Maverick steps forward, breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry for your loss, sweetheart,” he says. Chestnut reaches Jo first, though. The dog’s eyes stay glued to Maverick, assessing him and guarding Jo. It’s like he knows his service has moved from one Booker to the other.

“Looks like you got yourself an admirer,” Maverick marvels as Jo bends at the waist to gently pat the top of Chestnut’s head. She lifts her gaze to Maverick and offers him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

A smile you force when everything inside you feels like its dying.

“Thank you,” she says, her gaze darting from him to me. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

I clear my throat and shake my head.

“No,” I reply, then look toward my president. “Maverick, this is Jo. Jo, Maverick.”

“Wish we could’ve met under different circumstances, but like I was just telling Hawk, anything you need, just let us know and we’ll make it happen.”

She needs her brother alive and well.

Can you pull that one out of your saddle bags?

“That’s very nice of you,” she says, still staring at me. “I um…I wouldn’t mind a drink,” she says, tipping her chin toward the bottle sitting on top of the bar.

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