Page 82 of 23 Hours

Prez leans a shoulder against the wall. His head tilts to the side to rest against the smooth surface. “I’ll take care of it. You’ve done enough.” His eyes close for a beat.

“Didn’t seem that way today… at Church.”

“I know. Fuck.” He massages the nape of his neck. “It’s been a lot on all of us. The club needs you. I need you. With Kai bein’ new, he’s—”

“Learning,” I tack on for him.

“Sure. We’ll go with that. Take the next forty hours. Be with your family. We can survive that long without you.”

“You know things aren’t gonna crumble in a week if you take a breather, Prez.” He deserves as much downtime as I do, if not more. Sure, I was on the road, but he was here, dealin’ with all that entails. If you think running a national motorcycle club is an easy feat, you’d be wrong. Dead wrong.

“I wish that were true.”

“It is. Give Kai some credit. Tell him to handle the deaths. Give him more responsibilities. He will handle ‘em, or you’ll hand him his ass… No, we can both hand him his ass if he fucks it up. He’s part of this club now. Sink or swim, baby. That’s how we roll. Go spend the night with your old lady and your kid. I’m gonna do the same with mine. We’re too fuckin’ old to run ourselves into the ground.”

If only I could take my own advice. Easier said than done. But Kai has kept this place together alongside Big. He’s green, but he’s capable. That much is clear, even if he’s out of his depth half the time. Big doling out duties to the kid—shit he would have given to Steel, our former VP, in a heartbeat—is how he’s gonna show his salt, his value to our brotherhood. A man can’t lead if you’ve shackled him. That’s why he’s here. To step in and step the fuck up.

Absorbing my wisdom, Big tips his head in a quiet form of consideration. “I’m sorry about Niki,” he says, scrubbing the two-day-old scruff on his jaw.

Not wantin’ to talk about her any more than we already have, I run a palm down my bare abs and nod a couple times. “Me too,” I mumble, eyes focused on my scarred boots.

“The doc will see Kit in the morning, to sort her out.”

“I appreciate that. What about the rest of the sisters?” Jonesin’ for a Dum Dum to ease whatever’s ragin’ inside me, even a little, I stuff both hands in my front pockets and rock back on my heels instead. My dumbass figured the few I already ate were gonna be enough for Church. Everyone jokes about the bowls of ‘em around the clubhouse. What good do those do when I’m stuck in the hall, unable to get my fix when I’m talkin’ to Prez.

Christ… I sound like an addict.

Eh.

Call a spade a spade. I am one.

For suckers.

For sex.

For Kit.

At least those are healthier vices than some.

Yeah, I know, also something addicts say. Sue me. I am who I am.

Big heaves the world’s noisiest sigh. “Doc’s visitin’ Loretta and Jade at their homes. White Boy and Blimp are already with ‘em, keepin’ an eye out. Doin’ what they need to do for their ladies.”

“And Beth?” My poor, innocent friend who got tangled up in all this mess.

“Whisky drove up an hour ago and took her back with her.”

Wait… What?

Taken aback, I crinkle my forehead and nose in confusion. “She’s gone?”

“Yeah. Beth… had a breakdown after Runner and all the other shit went down. We’re not equipped to handle that kinda stuff when we’ve got a war at our front door. She’s safer with your brother and the other survivors.”

And I’m informed of this now? Not beforehand. Not… I don’t have time to get into the details as to why they didn’t say jack shit. If Big thinks she needs better reinforcements and support, then fine. I’m too tired to fight him.

“And Jonesy?” I ask, because she was caring for him, and he’s too old to look out for himself.

“After they kidnapped her, I paid to have him put in a nice home.”

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