Page 61 of Mischief Mayhem
We talked about Trojan’s memory for a few moments, laughing about when we were younger and we’d spent the winters in that tiny trailer in the shittiest part of town. We didn’t have much, but we had each other, and that felt like enough to my childhood self. At the end of the call, I promised to come visit her soon and she promised to call me in a few days.
“Bring Verona with you,” she said, “when you visit. I’d like to meet the girl that has my boy talking like this.”
“I will,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you,” came her tender reply.
When we hung up, I finished my cigarette and flicked it into the ashtray, ruminating about when I’d actually be able to make the three-hour drive up to see her. It had been too long, but I didn’t get much free time these days. That was no excuse. She was my mother, the one who had taken a life sentence for me when I’d made the worst mistake of my life. If I were to do some of Alba’s psycho-therapy shit on myself, I might admit she was the reason I threw myself in front of so many bullets, why I considered myself so indebted to the club.
What was my life compared to V’s? What was my life compared to Bear’s or KC’s?
Nothing. Insignificant. And if I had to die knowing they could live, well, that was still the easiest choice I’d ever make.
By the time I got to the garage, Bear and KC already had the music blasting and a few cars up on the lifts for tire rotations. Selene and Thor flirted with each other in the office, their marriage fresh off the press so they still had that honeymoon gleam in their eyes. I said good morning and made my way to the mechanic’s bay, ignoring the skeptical way Bear watched me as I moved.
“You have a good night?” KC asked. “How’s your hand?”
I flexed my right fist, giving him a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve done worse.”
“Uh-huh,” Bear said, tossing his oily rag over his shoulder before putting his palms on his hips and eyeing me from my toes to my head and back down again. “And what about my sister?”
I raised my eyebrows and matched his stance, recognizing both a taunt and a tease in Bear’s tone. “What about her?”
“Are you fucking V or what, man?” Bear grabbed a tire iron from his mechanic’s chest and swung it around before landing the business end in his other fist.
I narrowed my eyes on his weapon before glancing at KC, who hid his obvious smile behind his fingers. Like anytime I fought with Bear, KC wouldn’t get involved, but he’d certainly enjoy watching. V said she wasn’t ready for anyone to know about this, but after last night, how could we still keep it a secret? Hell, Bear already knew. Ru suspected. Anyone with eyes could tell there was something more going on. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut, but I’d just realized I was in love with her. I was ready to scream it from the rooftops.
“What if I am?” I said. “You gonna beat my face in?” I nodded toward the long metal rod before reaching over to grab one of his socket wrenches, the ones he specifically told me to stop using.
“I might have something to say about it.” Bear stepped closer, his cheeks turning scarlet, the tips of his ears matching.
“Shouldn’t you be concerned with your own upcoming nuptials?” I took a step back, giving Bear room to advance while also making sure I had an escape route just in case this got physical. I had about an inch on the brother, but he was bulkier through the chest. We’d been wrestling and giving each other shit since we were teenagers. I didn’t take any of his threats seriously. Of course, I’d also never fucked his little sister before, which could change things.
“Don’t make this about me.” Bear pointed at me with the tire iron, raising his eyebrows up his forehead. “If I find out you’re dicking her around like you do with your club slu?—”
“Don’t talk about them like that,” I cut in, holding the wrench up like a makeshift sword. “It makes you sound like a slut-shaming prick. No wonder no one wants to fuck you.”
“Hey!” Bear smacked the wrench away with his free hand, batting at me with the iron. I jumped out of the way just in time to miss the blow. “I get laid.”
“Yeah,” KC cut in with a chuckle. “Bear gets laid . . . sometimes . . . like two years ago.”
“Fuck off, KC!” Bear and I both shouted at the same time, making him hold up his hands and take a step away from us.
“I’m not dicking her around,” I said. “I care about her. She cares about me.”
Bear narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows, shifting his stance like the very idea was outrageous. “What do you mean?”
“We’re together, Bear. Like . . . actually for real together.” Or, at least, that was what I assumed. We hadn’t put a label on this and it was still new, but we were exclusive. One of these days, I’d take her on a legitimate date, like a real boyfriend.
Bear looked even more confused.
“What do you mean?” he asked again.
Honestly, I understood I’d been a manwhore back in the day, but this shit was insulting. I’d never treated any of my partners with disrespect. They all knew what they were getting into at the beginning. It was the reason everyone still liked me, despite what we might have done in between the sheets.
“I care about your sister, man.” I smacked his tire iron away with the wrench. “I’d never hurt her. Never. If I’m fucking her, it’s because she likes it. And brother . . .” I blew out an obnoxious whistle. “She likes it. A lot.”
Okay, maybe I didn’t need to add that last little bit on there, but it had the effect I wanted. Bear’s face got even more blushed, that classic Montgomery temper rising to the forefront.