Page 126 of Where Sinners Repent

“Leon!” he gasps.

Fuck. He looks like fucking shit. His face is a mess of purple and black bruises, one of his eyes still swollen shut. A deep cut is taped on his lower lip and his forearm is in a cast.

Leon runs, meeting the at the bottom of the stairs.

“Fuck, kid,” he shakes his head, gripping Theo by the shoulders and searching him from head to toe. “They got you good.”

Leon seems none the wiser to the way the youngest Morgan brother looks at him, stars twinkling in his eyes. He is practically vibrating, smiling despite the fact that this morning he was attacked, just because Leon is looking at him.

Poor kid.

The eighteen-year-old has no idea that Leon doesn’t spend a night alone. Anything was a pulse and Leon has fucked them.

Theo nods, wincing at the pain.

“I’ve missed you, Leon,” he murmurs, and I hear Griff beside me scoff.

Leon wraps his arms around Theo, lifting him off the ground and carrying him back upstairs, disappearing into the house above the garage.

Never taking this prick with me to anything important again.

Facing Graham, I almost feel sorry for him. His harsh face looks exhausted.

“Graham,” Griff nods.

He is one man who will always have the Devil’s respect. A Legacy.

“Boys,” he mutters. “Obviously, we need to talk.”

“Talk?” Jules spits. “We need to do more than talk. Pa, this is serious. First it’s Theo, what happens when they go for Nate? Or God forbid Stevie...”

Graham spins to his son. “I fucking know it’s serious, Jules.”

They glare at each other for a moment. The oldest Morgan brother facing off with his dad.

“What happened?” I interrupt their fatherly bonding time. We came for a reason.

Graham sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Theo went out with Stevie. They were drinking, and two men cornered them on their walk home. They were asking all sorts of things. Which bikes you ride. And Kai. They were asking about a girl. Roxanne?”

My blood runs cold.

“What were they asking about her?”

Graham tries to think. The sound of heels clicking draws our attention as Stevie walks through the garage. A flannel is tied under her tits and baggy jeans ride down her slim hips. Paired with heels and long flowing red hair, she looks like she belongs on a magazine for wannabe bikers to jerk over. The fact that she is only sixteen is probably why Graham is as grey as he is.

“Hello boys,” she purrs.

“What did they want with Roxanne?” I ask her, since she was there.

She stops beside her dad, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“All sorts. Asking about which bike she’s on the back of. If we’ve seen her. Which Devil she’s fucking.”

I feel Griff stare at me sidelong, but I’m too pent up to care.

“What did they look like?”