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Finding Ink at the bar, I walked over.
“Seen Bullseye?”
“Not today. Have you tried calling him?”
“Not gonna call the fucker if he’s with Phantom. Last time I did that, the bastard took a shot at me.”
Ink snickered.
“Speaking of which, where is our sister?”
“Not here either.”
“Shit,” I grumbled, leaning against the bar.
That meant they were together.
“What’s up?”
Shaking my head, I pushed off the bar and headed outside.
I needed to find someone to call Bullseye.
Someone preferably not me.
Looking around the compound, I saw several of the brothers, but none would work. Most of them knew not to call Bullseye unless it was a fucking emergency.
Grouchy motherfucker hated being interrupted when he was with Phantom.
Although I was happy Bullseye got his second chance, a small part of me couldn’t help but feel resentful that he moved on from my sister. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of Kitty or see her smiling face in my niece Hailey, who was the spitting image of her mother.
Everything was so different now. I barely recognized the club I grew up in. It felt as if all of us were in limbo, watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We were living, but not.
It was strange.
“Hey, Savage!” Massacre smiled, walking over. “What’s up?”
Looking at my brother, I grinned.
Oh, yeah.
He would do.
Serves his ass right for fucking off for two years and not telling anyone.
“Need you to call Bullseye and tell him we have company coming.”
Massacre quirked an eyebrow at me. “Why not you?”
“Because I got other things I have to do and I’m the VP.”
“Acting VP,” Massacre muttered, clarifying the obvious.
Narrowing my eyes at him, I growled. “Call him or else, asshole.”
Massacre shrugged his shoulders before reaching for his phone.
