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He grips his cut on either side of his chest, holding on like he needs the support to ask the next question. “My sister, Clover. She’s diabetic. Back in New Orleans, we were able to get medicine for her because we had connections with a doctor in the local hospital. Is there anyone we can contact to discuss keeping up a regime for Clover’s meds?”
Snorting out a laugh at the irony, I nod. I didn’t want to talk toher today, but it looks like I’m going to. “Yeah… I know someone. I’ll give her a call. See if she’ll come around. She can have a chat with you and Clover and go over whatever it is you need.”
“Thanks, Pres,” Maverick states, his entire body seeming to relax a little more now he has his sister sorted.
“I got you, brother. I’ll go call her now. You and Clover take your time settling in. Get to know everyone, and let me take care of everything else.”
“I owe you,” Maverick offers, putting out his hand for me to shake.
I dip my head after shaking his hand. “No. You don’t. You’re a part of us now. We look after our own. When I say I’ve got you, I got you.”
Maverick smiles wide. “I think we’re gonna like it here.” His eyes glance over the open expanse of the clubhouse.
Slapping his back, I gesture to the other brothers. “Go grab yourself a brew. I’m gonna make that call.”
“Thanks, Alpha,” he says, turning for the bar.
Shaking my head, I spin, making my way to the bedroom stairs. I take them two at a time, heading for my room, the first door in the hallway at the top.
This will be about as much fun as a hole in the head.
CHAPTER THREE
Alpha
My shoulders sag as I open the door and walk in, closing it behind me. Letting out a long breath, I take in my large room. The dark ambiance floods my senses. The black paint is broken up by various framed pictures on the wall above my giant bed. Photographs of Poppy, the team I lost back in the Army, and my first bike. Mainly just sentimental memories. The wall to my left by the door has cutout inlets housing other memories and keepsakes. Things like my first helmet. Poppy’s baby booties and the pink stuffed pig I gave her when she was born. My prospect patches in a special glass container, putting them on show. The half-empty bottle of tequila my father and I drank the night I told him I was enlisting.
I glance at the half-empty bottle and take a seat on my bed. “Miss you, Dad,” I mumble to myself, then clear my throat and unscrew the lid of the tequila bottle Livvy sent me in the basket, taking a long sip. “Here’s to you, old man.”
Swiping my mouth with the back of my arm, I place the tequila bottle on my bedside table and throw my legs up on the bed, resting my head back on my pillow.
If only my dad could see the mess of a man I became.
He was so proud to know I was following in his footsteps and joining the Army like he did. I was going to be an elite soldier just like he was, but he had a stroke and died while I was in basic training.
He never saw me become an officer and graduate into the Special Forces.
Probably a good thing he didn’t live long enough to see the fuckup I created at the embassy. The great Major Landry’s sonbeing dishonorably discharged was not something my father would haveeverbeen proud of or gotten over.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, I am doing it again, being swallowed up in my thoughts when I came in here to do something. Pulling out my cell, I open the contacts to Livvy’s number and hit call. That same twist pulls at my gut as the phone rings, but my anxiety is cut short when she answers soon after. “Stone, hey… are you enjoying your birthday?”
No matter what happens in her world, Livvy always remembers my birthday.
Even after all the shit we’ve been through together.
The woman should forget about me. Leave me to rot, but she stays around. Though there’s nothing here for us, she’s loyal to a fault.
I don’t know how she can continue to be so upbeat and happy after everything we’ve been through.It astounds me.“It’s not my birthday,” I grunt back down the line.
She snickers out a laugh. “Uh-huh. I was married to you for thirteen years. And in a relationship with you for twenty. You think I don’t know when your birthday is? Did you get my gift basket?”
I roll my eyes with a groan and take another swig of the tequila. “I got your fucking gift basket.”
She laughs. “Good. Don’t drink the whole bottle today. Got it?”
I take another drink. The burn is intense all the way down my throat, then I slam the bottle onto the bedside table. “I called for a reason.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?”
