Page 49 of Property of Bob

I looked from him to Anchor. “She’ll tell me what’s going on. And I’ll be the one who tells her what’s happening on the island.”

Anchor didn’t answer right away.

That irritated me. “What?” I asked.

“You sure that’s smart?” Anchor asked.

My jaw tightened. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re sitting in a hospital bed.”

I stared at him. “So?”

“So you’re still recovering.”

“I know where the fuck I am.”

“Then act like it.” Cross went quiet.

Skull was silent on the phone.

I looked at Anchor. “I am acting like it.”

“No, you’re acting like you’re already home.”

“Because I should be.”

Anchor let out a breath through his nose.

I didn’t care. This wasn’t just me bitching because I hated hospitals anymore.

Ramona was on my island. In my clubhouse. Surrounded by my brothers.

They were watching her. Protecting her. Answering her questions. Making decisions about where she could and couldn’t go. That should’ve been a good thing, but it wasn’t.

Not because I didn’t trust them.

I trusted them with my life, but Ramona wasn’t theirs to deal with.

She was mine.

That thought landed hard enough that I stopped for half a second.

Mine.

She’d come here looking for me. She hadn’t driven three days because she needed the Kings of Anarchy. She came because she needed Ashland Moore.

Me.

That made her my responsibility.

“I don’t want the club handling her,” I said.

Skull let out a low whistle through the phone.

Cross’s eyebrows lifted.

Anchor stared at me.