Page 32 of Property of Gray

“Do you think Bill is still up?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve got a thing for my old man.”

I punch him in the gut. “I don’t want him to see me sneaking out and think I’m a two-bit hussy.”

“One, he thinks we should get married. Two, all he has to do is look out the window and see your truck is still parked in the driveway. You didn’t leave your keys in it, did you?”

“No. Why?”

“Nothing. If you’re going home, I’ll walk you out.”

Right. Home. I grab my dress off his bedroom floor.

Gray sees me to my truck. “Drive safe.”

“I always do.”

“Good girl.” His lips brush my forehead. For a man who doesn’t date, he’s great at boyfriend-type behavior.

Jessika seems sweet. I picked her up earlier, but she doesn’t say much. I practically had to twist her arm to get her to pick anything out. I’m pretty sure she’s fucked my brother. She hasn’t come out and said it, but whenever his name comes up in conversation, she gets this dreamy expression in her gaze. Not that we’ve talked about much, with Foolish keeping tabs on every move we make or word we utter. I know Jessika is running from her ex who has ties to a Mexican drug cartel, but we’re far from Anarchy. I highly doubt the dudes after her are going to be in bumfucked Arkansas at an outlet mall of all places.

I envy her in a way. She has a fresh start in a new place with a man like my brother at her back. He’ll make sure she’s protected. It may also bring me joy to see Faye so rattled that someone might take her place and kick her off her high horse.

She thinks she’s better than the rest of us. When she first came here, I overheard her talking shit about my Grannie Mags, who may be tough as nails, but everyone loves her. She’s the matriarch of our family and Devil’s Creek. She called her an old hick bitch, and I’ve owed her a good beat down ever since. I didn’t have the heart to tell my brother because he’s never hit a woman and I was afraid Faye would become the first.

Grannie Mags raised us. She was more of a parent to us than our parents ever were. They’re still alive, but they cared more about drugs than they did their children. The best thing Uncle Hoss ever did was run our father out of the club and send them packing.

I was too young to remember much about them or care about their absence, but Woods, Dirty, and Fletcher were old enough to feel abandoned. Austin has always thought he was better than the rest of us. I swear they stole him from somewhere because he’s nothing like the rest of us. And then there was our brother, Billy. God rest his soul. He was the best of us, and we lost him far too soon.

When we get back to the clubhouse, there’s a party in full swing. If there’s one thing I know about these guys, it is that they love a good time. Woods is standing out on the porch waiting for us, only it isn’t Woods at all. It’s my other brother, Dirty.

I jump out of the truck and tackle-hug him. “Oh my word. What are you doing home?” I hug his neck and he gives my back a pat.

“Hey brat.” He ruffles my hair, but I don’t care. “I paroled.”

I’m so fucking happy he’s out, but a thought hits me. “Should you be here around the club?”

“Nope.” He grins, and I shake my head as he swings me around like he used to when I was a little thing. My big brother releases me as Jessika goes inside the clubhouse. “Who is she?”

“Long story, but she’s here on Big Daddy’s orders.”

“He loves sending us women, huh?” He laughs and glances around.

I frown at him. He’s probably looking for Faye. I don’t know what anyone sees in her.

“Let me get a good look at you. You’re all grown up.”

“I’ve not changed that much.”

“You finally grew into your head.”

“Shut up.”

I catch him up on Grannie Mags and life in general. Of course, I’d email him and do an occasional video chat, but that’s not the same as having him home with us.

He’s eager to get back to living his life, and who can blame him. If I’d been locked up for three years, I’d be wanting to party it up. But he has to watch it. He’s got two years of probation to serve. Not that Fletcher would send him back. It’s him doing stupid shit outside of our county that matters.

It isn’t like the club is a group of choirboys. I know their real money comes from manufacturing and selling Diamond Dust. I do their books. I know where the money really comes from, even if it’s being laundered through legitimate businesses.