Page 97 of Not Mine to Rescue

“Well, criminal law and family law rarely cross paths.” Mary let go of the handshake and shot her a thousand-watt smile.

I studied Walt’s reaction.

He stayed mute, but vigilant. His eyes were on his wife, soaking in information by watching her. Or maybe he was just that gone for her. It wasn’t unusual for him to watch her like a hawk.

“That said, Hagerstown is pretty small. Good to see you. You’re studying to be a paralegal, right?” Honor asked.

Walt clapped his hands together. “This is great. My wife’s finally got someone other than me to bore with her schoolwork. It goes right over my head. Go for it, talk shop. Bat?” He cocked an ear toward the bar.

Before I followed him, I took the liberty to brush my lips near Honor’s ear. “I’ll be right over there.”

I joined Walt, who already had two shots lined up on the bar for us. He waited until I picked up the shot before talking. “Why the fuck did you bring her here?”

As my sister recently said, “Grab your balls and man up.”

“If all goes well, she’ll be here a lot more often.”

“The fuck she will.” He slammed the shot and motioned for another.

I drank mine because he’d make that insult an issue as well. The whiskey went down hard. “I’ll agree to only public events and the family gatherings, no rides, no member-only times.”

He shot me the loudest question I’d never heard.

“It’s like that.”

“I swear to god, you are one⁠—”

“Say it. Call me an idiot. Tell me I’m a fool. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before.”

His expression fell. “You got your heart bit hard, didn’t you?”

I let my slight nod speak for itself.

He frowned. “She’s using you.”

“Maybe we’re using each other, but it’s a thing. I’m not going to hide her.” Speaking of hiding, Nickel walked past with his arm around Rachel. They ignored us and met up with Sierra and Kid at the tables. Insulated behind them was another couple. Both had their backs to the wall, like they preferred. Killer, the woman, had anxiety issues. Her husband, Ice, well… he had issues.

“Hiding ain’t the same as using your brain instead of your dick.”

“Listen, if you’ve got a problem with⁠—”

I didn’t have a chance to finish because Boots walked into the middle of our conversation. “Who’s the babe with Mary?”

“Her name’s Honor. She’s the club’s lawyer and⁠—”

Walt finished with about as succinct description possible. “And Wombat’s fucking her.”

I shot Walt a frown, hoping he’d get the hint and keep his voice down.

“No shit? Man, a banging chick with brains and brown hair? She’s perfect for you, ’Bat.”

“I’m glad someone thinks so.” The second shot was waiting alongside a bottle of beer. I’d need both to get through this.

Boots slapped my shoulder. “Hell, remember when we were on that long haul out to Fresno? You described your perfect woman to me, and it was her. Swear on my wife’s tits. What was that, four years ago?”

Walt broke in, “You’ve been doing this bullshit for four years?”

“No. You talked to the firm. It’s been two months.”