Page 162 of Fury

Boner’s lips curled, nostrils flaring, his fierce, dark glare a thousand knives.

“Let’s get out of here,” Butler said to Boner and shot me a stony look. “Compensation needs to hit the table.”

The Jacks left.

Everyone stared at Catch.

“You got balls, bro. I like that, always have,” I said. “You took a stand, terrific. But not this. There’s history with that gun that you don’t get, and you need to respect it, respect them and not fuck with them anymore. The Jacks are important to me.”

“I know.”

“You know?” My voice got louder and Catch tensed. “Do you really?”

“Yes, yes, I know.”

“Right. You made your point. But you’re fucking with our plans now, plans you are aware of. That’s what pisses me off. You’re putting yourself and your sad ass ego before your club. You can’t go running off into the night on a tear and especially not against the Jacks. We need them friendly, but now you’ve pissed them off. Tugged on their heartstrings.”

“Yeah, I—”

“You hearing me?”

He scowled, his eyes darting everywhere, muscles fidgeting. He was the wild horse unwilling to take the saddle.

“Yes, I hear you,” he bit out.

“You still sore that Jill doesn’t want you no more? That she chose Boner?”

He winced at my words, skin reddening.

What a fucking soap opera. I took in a deep breath to keep my cool.

Catch wore his heart on his sleeve, and it twisted there and bled. He’d loved Jill, maybe he was only now realizing how much, or maybe his ego had snapped and filled the sudden void with all this bluster. Either way, he needed to see sense. And I had to show him the way.

He pressed his lips together into a firm line, his gaze glued to the floor, the muscle along his jaw ticking. The lit fuse hissed as it coiled and sparked. “I don’t want my kid growing up around another club. Becca’s my kid!”

“What else did you do? You threaten Jill?”

“I told her to give me full custody of Becca or I’d sic Mishap on Boner.”

Mishap was Rhys. He’d never wanted to be an official part of the Flames of Hell, preferring to remain under the radar and on his own, which was just as well. We liked it that way, and it worked for both of us. I gave him plenty of assignments and, through me, so did Turo. No one knew who “Mishap” was or who he worked for. Over the years he’d become a legend: assassination for hire and done with precision and accuracy. Clean and smooth. The unholy Velvet Reaper.

My nerves exploded.

“Who the hell do you think you are using Mishap’s name as a threat?” I yelled.

Catch jumped to his feet. “I’m Becca’s father! Me! Not some One-Eyed Jack!” His voice was raw with emotion.

I got into his face, gripping his colors. His eyes widened, and he shook in my hold. “Then you be her father. You be there for her. She’s only two hours away. Be responsible. Be consistent. Let her see that in you. Let her feel safe with you. Let her depend on you, and you deliver. And don’t lie to her. Not ever. That’s what she needs from you. Never forget that.” My lungs burned at the words erupting from the charred remains of “Kid.” I took in a deep breath to clear the fumes. “This bullshit high school behavior is not helping your case. With Jill or with me.”

Catch nodded stiffly and dropped his head, his eyes closed.

I wrapped a hand around his neck, and a noise unfurled in his throat at the contact. “Dammit, Catch. We got a lot of work to do, and I need you. Shit’s hitting the fan here.”

“I’m sorry. Sorry. You got me,” he whispered roughly. “You got me, Prez.”

Within the week, that shithit the goddamn fan. And it was Jill who tipped us off.

She’d called Krystal, asking if she could see me.

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