“I was counting on it, just wasn’t sure if they’d want to talk to me first, and then the club together, or what their timeline would be.”
“Right.” Maverick heads to the doorway. “I’ll talk to them and let you know. And about the old ladies?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I should have asked her.”
“How about I have someone on standby? Maybe Ella? She’s only teaching a few summer classes right now. I’d call Loreena, but…”
“She would have preferred to come with you already,” Dravin fills in. “How’s she doing?”
“She keeps meeting with Lockwood. She’s doing so much better. I’m so proud of her.”
Loreena is sort of agoraphobic. She went through some traumatic stuff and that’s basically how she met Maverick. She was his prison pen pal. When he got out, she tried to shut him down because she didn’t want him to find out she couldn’t leave her house, but he wasn’t having any of it. He kind of kidnapped her and brought her heal because he wanted to help her.
As wild as that is, most of the guys at the club have some pretty crazy love stories.
I’ve watched my club brothers fall for women who are perfect for them. Watched them go from living solitary lives, often pretty lonely despite the brotherhood of the club. They’ve been unseen. They’ve felt unwanted. Through the club, they found brotherhood, friendship, redemption, and healing, but their women were their missing pieces.
I’m not jealous. I’m really not.
At least, I’ve tried very hard not to be.
“Ella’s probably the best bet then, if we can’t get Lark. She’s home with Penny though, since it’s summer.”
“Penny loves coming here. She loves getting spoiled,” Dravin protests.
“I’ll ask Tyrant and Raiden. You had best get to tracing that douchebag down.” Maverick frowns. “Uh, have you ever thought about legally un-adopting your brother? Or divorcing your family? Can you do that?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. I think the best I could do is write him out of my will, but I don’t have a will, and he’s not in it.”
“You don’t have a will?” Maverick gapes at me.
“What the fuck?” Dravin asks. “Not even a living one?”
“No. Tyrant and Raiden know me. They know what I’d want if anything happened to me. My bike and shit can go to whoever. Rock paper scissor championship for it.”
Maverick laughs his hearty, booming laugh that he never can seem to tone down. Dravin studies me carefully but doesn’t say anything until it’s just the two of us in here.
I snap my laptop open and start punching keys. This shouldn’t be that hard. Not when Esme gave me the date James left. As I said, he wouldn’t have had fake ID. Probably wasn’t smart enough to get it in advance and then didn’t have time. He’d be wearing a shit disguise and would have left a paper trail a mile long.
Dravin twists one of the chairs from the corner and sits down hard. He tucks his hands between his knees, trying not to distract me, but his thoughts are so damn loud that I huff and glance up for a second. “What?”
“I—it’s just…”
“Go ahead. You’re not distracting me.” He’s not. I’m flying through this. Two more minutes, and I’ll probably know where James is.
That thirty minute benchmark was me seriously downplaying my skills.
“When you walked in with Esme, I was watching the feeds.”
“As you should have been. I don’t doubt you were doing a great job.” My fingers flick over the keyboard. My eyes never leave the screen.
“I don’t know how to say this any other way, Wizard. You might never have forced your way into your brother’s relationship, but you’re in love with this woman.” My head snaps up and Dravin immediately gives me his palms in a peaceful gesture. “Whatever. It’s okay.”
It’s reallynotokay.
Am Ithatobvious? I wish I had an answer, but the room twists, the screen dims, the roaring in my ears is back. The world is going to implode.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” Dravin goes on. His voice sounds like it’s coming across some vast distance, the words muffled but decipherable. “How long?”
