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“Good. I wanna see what Dex found without everyone sticking their nose in my business.”
The party hasn’t completely died down. Rooster, Jigsaw, and Ravage are clustered in front of the war room doors when we enter.
Z claps my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.” He ducks inside the small office to the right and closes the door behind him.
“Grinder!” Rooster’s hearty greeting erases a fraction of my irritation. I accept a quick handshake and pat on the back from him. “Life treating you good, brother?” he asks.
“Eh. As long as I’m not inside a cell, I’m good.”
“Hell yes.” Jiggy holds out his fist and I tap his knuckles with my own.
Finally, the brother I need to talk to steps inside the clubhouse. I barely restrain myself from pouncing on him. Dex takes his sweet-ass time moseying over.
“Well?” I ask as soon as Dex stops in front of me.
He flicks his gaze my way and smirks. “Emily’s a beautiful woman, but she can’t lie for shit.”
“Aww, look at Dex noticing a woman.” Jigsaw cackles and slaps Dex’s back. “Good for you, buddy.”
Dex slides an irritated glare at Jigsaw. “I’m runnin’ Crystal Ball. Noticing women is literally all I do. All day, every day.”
“I meant in the biblical sense,” Jigsaw clarifies. “Not in a commercial way.”
If I wasn’t ready to come out of my skin, I might find their antics amusing.
“What do you mean, Dex?” I ask, ignoring Jigsaw. “Did you see Serena or not?”
“No, but I definitely heard two people inside the house.”
“Her younger sister lives with her,” I say.
“She hot?” Ravage asks.
I growl in Rav’s direction and it’s enough to shut him up.
“Ah, I didn’t know that. Coulda been,” Dex says. “Didn’t see Serena’s car in the driveway. Peeked in the garage and it wasn’t in there either.”
“Thanks for trying.”
“No problem, brother.”
And thanks for not asking me why.
“What’s going on, Grinder?” Rooster asks. “Is Serena okay?”
“We’re fine,” I answer in a clipped tone that should leave no room for follow-up questions.
Thankfully, Rooster takes the hint.
“You sticking around for church tomorrow?” I ask Rooster.
“Yeah.” He glances at the war room. “If Z’s sticking around, I will. Shelby’s over at Wrath and Trinity’s house.” He jerks his chin toward the stairs. “They said we could stay with them if the clubhouse is too noisy.”
I huff out a sad laugh. Sleeping at Wrath’s house had been the highlight of my first night of freedom. I clap Rooster’s shoulder. “You should. It’s quiet and peaceful there.” I shake Dex’s hand and tap knuckles with Jigsaw and Ravage. “I gotta head back to my place. I’ll catch you in the morning.”
The next morning, I’m torn. Stop by Emily’s to ask about Serena or get my ass to the clubhouse?
Waking Emily at the ass-crack of dawn won’t endear me to her. Besides, it’s time I start pulling my weight with the club. Fuck knows they’ve been carrying me for years. I need to give back to my brothers. Especially after the way no one has hesitated to help me since I’ve been out. The club’s handed me everything I needed on a silver platter—housing, vehicle, clothes, calling in big favors—the least I can do is show up when my president asks me to.
A pull in my chest wants me to drive to Emily’s but I point the truck east and head toward the clubhouse.
Focus.
Bleary-eyed brothers are either sprawled on the couches or milling around the living room when I step into the clubhouse forty-five minutes later. The war room doors are still closed, so at least I’m not late.
Wrath’s sitting at the bar sipping coffee and seems to be the most alert brother in the vicinity.
He grins as I approach. “Mornin’.”
“Do I have time for coffee before church?” I barely slept last night. I’m in need of a caffeine jolt.
He jerks his head toward the closed door of the office next to the war room. “Rock and Z are having a presidential sit-down. You probably have a minute or two.”
The dining room’s almost empty, except for Hope and Lilly sitting at the end of one of the long tables. On closer inspection, I notice the kids playing at their feet.
“Good morning, Grinder,” Hope calls out.
“Morning.” I throw them a quick wave and pour my cup of coffee.
Little feet patter over the floor, stopping next to me with a squeak.
“Hi!”
I glance down at Z’s son. Still wearing pajamas along with an eager, chubby-cheeked smile. “Morning, Chance.”
“Come see!” He holds out one of his small hands, beckoning me closer.
I follow him over to where Hope and Lilly are sitting. As we approach, I notice the kids have a blanket spread out with a racetrack for cars or something situated in the middle. Little Grace is studying a red plastic car. Chance scowls when he sees her and reaches for it.
