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"Nope." I return my attention to him. "But we sure drunk like it most nights."
His eyes grow heavy, a flat smile giving away his sentiments at the thought. Yep. They were rough years, that's for sure. Most mornings, I'm reminded with how my body pays for it now.
“Where we at with Volkov, then?” Tyke asks, focusing on the liquor sloshing around his glass. “If you’re sittin’ here before me with all your fingers and toes, he must have demanded somethin’ else in trade for Rae.”
I draw a deep breath and huff it out between us. “He’s pullin’ the run.”
“What?” The word growled deep from my brother’s throat. “The fuck?”
“No more deliveries until we hand her over.”
“For fuck’s sake.” He finishes the glass and searches for the bottle. “Fuck!”
“Yep.” Rock, meet hard place.
“Well, that just fuckin’ puts a cap on the steamin’ shit-pile tonight already was.” He taps his fingers on the table. “Fuck me. I can’t do that, Dig. I won’t hand her over.”
My brow twitches at the conviction in his tone. Rae’s no longer a pawn in a game for him. Hecaresabout her—like family. Perhaps more, same as I do, if he’s hesitant to trade her for more than fifty thousand a month guaranteed income.
"What else happened tonight, hoss?" My brother's faced down threats to the club before, threats to himself. He's handled them with strength and conviction despite fear creeping in during the quiet hours.
He's put a bullet between a man's eyes and bought his daughter a birthday cake on the way home.
Tyke doesn't fall off the wagon over politics and power plays. It has to have been something else.
And my gut says what—or rather, who—considering where he was in the minutes before I rode out.
"What makes you think there's more?" My brotherleans left, folding himself down on the seat to look beneath the table and locate the bottle at my side. "Pass that fuckin' thing over, would you?"
"No."
He sits tall and throws his arms wide. "I'm already too drunk to ride home. If you're goin’ to murder my dignity by makin’ me your backpack, then fuckin’ let me be drunk enough to forget it, would you?"
"Harvey's outside in the truck." I glance toward the exit. "Should have your bike on the bed by now."
Tyke sets both elbows on the table, burying his face in his hands with a groan.
"He wanted to come," I explain. "Your kids aren't as blind to your troubles as you think they are, brother."
"Some fuckin' role model, right?"
"Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get on with shit, and yeah, you'll be a great role model." I lift the bottle and set it on the table close to me. "Kids have gotta learn that it's okay to fuckin’ fall apart sometimes."
He bops his eyebrows, staring down at the table. "Fair words."
“You going to do me the respect of tellin' me what it is that had you tumblin’ off the wagon?" I lean elbows on the sticky tabletop, hands clasped before me. "You've done fine keepin' your birth mother a secret until now, and I’ve never known a threat to the club get you anything other than pitchin’ for a fight. So, what’s rattled you so bad that you feel the need to get shit-faced?”
He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, finishing with a sigh. "You ever done something so stupid that you can't figure out how it felt right in the moment?"
I sweep both hands down my chest before resuming my position. "You remember who you're talkin’ to?"
"Fuck." He slides down the seat, head hitting the vinyl with a thud that's audible over the music. "I should have known better. Jesus, fuck."
My heart thuds heavy and hard.What did he do?"This got anything to do with our house guest?"
A tense moment passes before he shifts his chin just enough to peer at me over his cheekbones.
Fuck me."What did you do, Tyke?"
