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“Any tips aside from that?”
Reaper shrugs. “I didn’t do too good of a job back then.”
“Who did?”
Reaper huffs out another laugh, looking to Trigger. “Believe it or not, it was Pebbles.”
“No shit?”
His brows lift, and Reaper nods. “Pebbles came over one day, and next thing I knew, Lilah was finally smiling again and left her room. We all knew Renee was no fucking help.”
“I'll have to give Pebbles a visit then,” I say, looking at Trigger.
“I think Pebbles is in a good spot mentally right now. She’s still trying to get in her groove, but she loves Lilah. I know she would do anything to help her if she knew she was hurting.”
“Will you talk to her for me?”
Trigger nods, pulling his phone from his pocket.
“Let’s fucking hope Pebbles knows how to help.”
Reaper nods, looking more like a tired father than the VP of a motorcycle club as he leans his elbow on the bar.
“Let me know how it goes?”
I slap a hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “Of course.”
Before heading home, I stop by Ghost’s office. Rapping my knuckles on the wood, I wait a few seconds before pushing the door open.
I roll my eyes and flick off my brother as I’m met with a sight I don’t particularly care to see.
The same girl, that hit on me at my party, Demi, is currently on her knees between my brother’s legs with his tattooed cock down her throat.
“Fuck off,” Ghost grunts.
“Don’t have to tell me twice, fucker.”
I shut the door noisily behind me, laughing to myself when I hear the girl throw a small fit at being walked in on. She chose the wrong fucking place to come if me walking in and seeing what she’s doing bothers her.
I’m a little irritated that I didn’t get a chance to talk to my brother about what I originally walked in there to say, but I shake it off easily and head for my bike to get home to my wife.
* * *
“Princess?” I call out to the empty room. Lilah isn’t in the kitchen or living room, and she isn’t twisted up in the sheets like I left her this morning.
“In here.” Her small voice comes from what I’m assuming is the closet.
I push through the bathroom and enter the closet to find her at her small desk with fabric laid across her lap.
“What’re you up to, babe?” I press a kiss to her exposed shoulder and watch as she guides the fabric through the sewing machine.
She shrugs and continues sewing the shiny nylon fabric together. “Just had an idea for a Halloween costume.”
“Halloween is like a month away.”
“Not like I have anything else to do,” she says snarkily.
I step to her side so I can see her face and frown at her.
