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“Wake him up,” Gate ordered. “We’ll let him stew a while and get all the bitching out of his system.”
“I love when they flip out,” Rooster said. “Better than TV.”
“That’s because it’s live, dipshit,” Stash answered.
“I’m leaving it with you guys. Don’t break anything while I’m gone.” Gate pointed at the prisoner. “That means him too.”
“Gotcha, pres,” Stash answered, grinning like a loon.
Rooster leaned over and tapped the man’s cheek. “Wakey, wakey!”
Gate took to the stairs, making the loft, and as soon as he hit his office, his cell rang.
Anna.Fuck.
“Gate,” he answered.
“I know who I called, Gate,” she said.
Gate sat in his leather chair and leaned back. “I’m not sure what to say right now that’s not gonna piss you off.”
She huffed a breath, “I didn’t call to fight.”
“Okay….,” he drew out because he couldn’t think of any other reason that she called. Ever.
Back in the day, he’d loved her to distraction. They’d burned bright and hot, had two beautiful kids, and then one day she decided she wanted more than him, kids, and an MC. So she’d kicked him out, taken him to court, and never looked back.
Gate still dreamed about her. Still thought she was a fucking knockout. Couldn’t help but compare everyone woman since to her, both in bed and out.
But he couldn’t stand being in the same room with her, much less talking to her on the telephone. Probably because it hurt so damned much.
“I realize this is none of my business,” she started and then paused with a heavy sigh.
Gate heard concern in her voice. Real concern, not the bitchy crap she threw at him over Lucky’s living quarters or Stella’s college tuition.
“What is it, kitten?” he asked her, falling back on the nickname he gave her the first night they met.
“Not sure if you know this, but I volunteer at a women’s shelter a few times a month,” she answered.
“I know it,” he answered. There wasn’t much about her he didn’t know. Including the fact that her Pomeranian of a husband was sniffing around his secretary at work.
“Shit, Gate, this could really get me in trouble,” she whispered.
He sat up straight. “You need me to come get you? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She paused again, and Gate could feel her indecision. “I could just get in serious trouble if anyone found out I was talking to you about this. This is all kinds of ethics violations.”
Women’s shelter. Abused women. Spider and the hookers.Shit.
“Who was it?” he asked.
“You know what I’m talking about?” she countered, still uncertain.
“Got a good idea. And I’m taking care of it.” Gate stood and paced the length of his office. He did not want this shit to touch her.
“Then all I’ll say is Rosie was scared to death. Terrified. And other than offer her a place at the shelter, there was nothing I could do because she didn’t stay long enough to get the authorities involved.”
“How’d you know to call me?” Gate wondered aloud.
