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"And then the fire."
"I asked them to run my blood to see what was in my system. I didn't take the pills. I'd remember having them shoved down my throat."
"But you could have already been asleep, and he came in and shot you up."
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. I don't know why the fire was necessary, though, if he wanted to kill me."
"To get rid of evidence?" I suggested. But, no, that didn't feel like enough. "If something happens to you, does your shit go to Holly?"
"Of course," he said, nodding, but his face fell as he was starting to put it together.
"What about the business? What happens if you die?"
To that, Shep let out a humorless laugh. "He gets it all."
"Is it possible he had life insurance out on you?" I asked.
"Anything seems possible at this point."
"I'll have someone look into it," I told him, reaching for my phone to shoot off a text to my mother. "I was over at the house before I came here. Don't be surprised if the fire department or the cops get in touch. There was an accelerant. And the smoke detectors were missing."
"If this was him..." Shep said, trailing off. He wanted to threaten the man. But his gaze moved over his body that still wasn't working the way he wanted it to.
"If it was him, I will handle it," I told him, watching as his gaze slid to me, understanding my meaning perfectly.
"Yeah?"
"Absolutely."
"You really like my sister, huh?" he asked.
"I really like your sister," I confirmed.
"Good. She deserves that. Is she at your place?"
"She's at the clubhouse," I told him. "We didn't know what was going on, so I figured it was safer there. And it will be more accessible for you when you are discharged. Don't bother to object. It's all already set up," I told him, shrugging.
I'd sent Rowe and Cary out to get him some supplies before I went to meet my mom.
Dezi had even headed out to the grocery store to get baking supplies, suggesting Holly might feel better if she baked. Though I suspected ulterior motives in his case. Still, his logic wasn't flawed. Baking did make Holly happy.
"I owe you," he said, head nodding as his jaw went tight. He was a proud man who was struggling with accepting even more help than he'd already been getting from his sister.
"No you don't. No offense, but I'm doing it for Holly. One day, I will know you well enough to do shit for you specifically, but right now, it is for Holly because she loves you."
"I can respect that," he agreed, taking a deep breath, and releasing it.
"When do you get out of here?"
"I can leave today. As soon as someone gets me some discharge papers, I guess."
"I'll go pick up Holly and come back for you. Any requests to have at the clubhouse? I got prospects whose whole purpose is to—"
"Run errands for you," Shep filled in. "You think I was as into my bike as I was without knowing all about your club?" he asked, smirking. "But yeah, I'll jot a few things down. I don't have a phone," he explained.
Right.
Because he lost fucking everything.
Rowe and Cary had a lot of shopping to do then. Clothes, basic essentials, some electronics—phone included.
"Holly and I will bring a change of clothes for you. Give us like an hour," I said, taking his list and pocketing it, then offering him my hand. "We'll figure this shit out," I assured him.
To that, he gave me a nod.
I smelled it as soon as I opened the main door to the clubhouse.
Something sweet was baking.
"Hey, big man, look, your lady friend is baking for us!" Dezi declared from his position on the counter in the kitchen, his fucking feet swinging like a kid.
"Gee, I wonder who put her up to that," I said, whacking him on the side of the head on my way to stand behind Holly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head.
"You okay?"
"I'm... processing," she admitted, shrugging. "He may have been waiting at the door for me when I came out with a baking suggestion, but baking does help me think," she told me.
"Hey, I had coffee for her," Dezi said.
"There was whiskey in it," Holly added, giving him a warm smile.
"You've been through a traumatic event. The proper response to that is to offer someone alcohol," Dezi insisted.
"Which book on etiquette is that from?" Fallon asked, walking in, sparing Dezi a smirk on his way to the coffee machine. "How you doing, Holly?" he asked, getting a small smile from her.
"I'm worried about my brother, but I'm okay."
"I told him we will pick him up in an hour or so," I told her.
"You talked to Shep?" she asked, eyes going big.
"I went to check on him," I told her, the white lie a little acrid on my tongue, but I knew I needed some facts before I approached her with the Glen theory. Knowing my mom, though, it wouldn't take too long. Especially if she pulled some of her coworkers in on it.
