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“Fuck no. But I established a rapport with the guys when I was out there. I can try reaching out if you want me to.”
Z stares at him for a few seconds before answering. “Yeah, do that. Just call to chat. Mention Priest visiting. See what comes up.”
“You got it.”
“All right.” Rock claps his hands and stands up. “It’s been fun, but I’m ready to hit the road.”
“Same.” I stand too.
“I’m hurt, guys,” Z pouts. “Didn’t you enjoy the raid and hospitality?”
“It was a blast,” Teller sneers. “Cops digging through my fiancée’s underwear was the highlight of my weekend.”
“Yeah, the one who stopped to ask me about the condom size I use was a real gem,” Dex adds.
“What? He’d never seen them that small before?” Jiggy asks with a straight face.
“You wish.”
“Actually, the size of your dick is the last thing I’ve ever contemplated in my life,” Jigsaw says.
“Yeah, but the more you talk about it, the more we’re starting to wonder.” Murphy holds his palms up. “See the problem?”
“They tossed Lilly’s drawer of toys all over the place. I think she threw everything out.” Z lifts his chin at Murphy. “Tell your wife to expect a large order soon.”
“Takes a lot of gadgets to keep your wife satisfied at your advanced age, huh?” Jiggy nods solemnly. “Good to know.”
“Fuck off, clown.”
“Well.” I slap my hands together like I’m cleaning off this conversation. “Now that I know more about your…personal issues than I ever wanted, I’m ready to leave.”
“Right there with you, G,” Dex says.
“Come on, now,” Z protests. “We could all use a little humor.”
Laughing, I reach for Z and yank him in for a hug. “Proud of you, Prez,” I say against his ear. “Thanks for everything.”
He pulls back with a serious expression creasing his face. “Are we good, brother?”
“We’re good,” I assure him.
“You’ll return?”
“Yeah, I’ll be back.”
“All right.” He cracks a hint of a smile. “I’ll let you leave, then.”
“Aww, this is touching.” Jigsaw leans in and hugs both of us.
“All right, get off me,” Z laughs and pushes both of us away.
Across the hall, I push into my room. Serena’s sitting on the bed, scrolling through her phone. “Hey, I was getting worried about you.”
“Wrath wanted to have a sit-down. Grabbed me before I could make it in here.”
“Everything okay?”
“Just some shit national threw at us. No one expected it.” I shrug off my cut and hang it over the back of a chair. “Are you all packed?”
“Yup.”
“Good.” I reach into the desk drawer for the envelopes Priest gave me. “Think you can stash these in your purse for me? I’ll get them from you when we get home.”
She blinks at the envelopes as I hand them to her. “Is this all cash?”
“Guilt gift from Priest.” I nod at the pile now in her lap. “Doesn’t even add up to what I would’ve earned makin’ minimum wage for the last fifteen years. But it’s the thought that counts.”
“I had no idea.”
“Not all clubs give a crap. But we always wanted to be different. A real brotherhood. Not a bunch of bozos who claim to be a brotherhood but don’t lift a finger to help out their brothers when it counts.” I want her to understand the club is more important to me than the money.
“You trust me to hold this much money?”
“You’re already carrying something that matters to me a hell of a lot more than money, so yeah.”
Pink sweeps over her cheeks. “Gray.”
“What?” I rest a finger against her chin and tip her head back.
“I’m not doing anything that special.”
“To me you are.” I kiss her cheek. “Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”
As much as I hate it, I have constraints that I have to follow. We still need to stop in Catskill and “check out” of our cabin. Setting up a “cover story” and hiding in the basement this weekend has tested the limits of my freedom.
That’s the problem with being caged, you don’t feel the bars holding you in until you try to push against them.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Serena
A list of things I need to do crowds my mind before I’m even fully awake. I blink and stretch, staring at the light leaking around the edges of the blinds in Gray’s room. His warm, solid presence comforts me, but since he’s almost always up before me, I don’t want to wake him. My bladder demands my attention, though. I creep out of bed slowly, scooping up my phone as I go. Gray’s still sleeping as I close the door.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, I drop down on the couch and check Instagram, like I do every morning.
“What the hell?” I scroll through hundreds of notifications. It doesn’t make sense. All I posted before going to bed last night were simple before and after makeup take-off selfies. But for some reason, much older posts are getting likes and comments, and my list of followers has exploded.
