Page 4 of Callow

I pulled the blanket up higher, clicked play on the TV, and grabbed for the jelly donut that was calling my name even if my stomach already felt like it was going to bust.

I even felt myself drifting off to sleep—without the worries of being teased for being old—content with my night to myself.

It was my phone ringing that woke me up. My heartbeat hammered as I struggled toward consciousness, confused at the darkness in the apartment, having no idea how much time had passed as I reached toward the coffee table to get my phone.

Daphne.

It could be Daphne.

Sure enough, it was her name on the screen.

I reached for the remote, clicking it to make the screensaver go away so I could see the clock.

Eleven-thirty.

“Daph, is everything alright?” I answered, pressing a hand to my thumping chest.

And I swear my blood ran cold at hearing not my daughter’s voice on the other end of the phone, but a man’s.

CHAPTER TWO

Callow

“Alright, fellow degenerates,” Sully called, making Nave and Perish walk out of the kitchen, brows raised, to find Sully standing there in an orange Hawaiian shirt with a pumpkin and black cat pattern on it.

“We party?” Perish asked.

“We hit the bar,” Sully said. “Then we bring some pretty back here to party with. I know you’re game,” he said, looking at Perish. “And the twins,” he added, nodding toward the two who were already waiting by the door. “You coming?” he asked, looking at Nave and then me.

Honestly, I wasn’t feeling it.

But what was the alternative? Hanging around the clubhouse all by myself? More or less. Brooks was around but he wasn’t usually the hanging out sort.

Besides, if I sat it out, Sully would get on my ass about getting old. Which wasn’t exactly untrue. I was older than all the other brothers standing around right then. But I didn’t want to start feeling like I couldn’t keep up with them either.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing else to do,” Nave said, nodding.

“Same,” I agreed.

“Did you call for a ride?” Perish asked.

“We walk,” Sully declared dramatically, throwing a hand up in the air.

You wouldn’t know by seeing him now that when we met, Sully was a kind of dark guy.

As someone who was prone to dark moods myself, that was saying something.

Sure, a lot of guys who were in the service suffered with depression or PTSD, depending on their jobs and the shit they’d seen. But most of us still carried that shit with us after we got out.

Sully?

Sully seemed to do a full one-eighty. I didn’t think I’d caught the man moping or moody since I joined the club.

I was sure there was likely some shrink out there who would say something about how his never-ending partying, sex, and positivity was somehow a mask to protect himself from his darker side.

I honestly wasn’t convinced that side still existed, though.

I didn’t notice at his declaration that I’d reached down to rub my leg just above my prosthetic. But Sully caught the move.