let me without making the house sound as if it’s being torn down to the studs, yeah?”
“I’m gonna take her to play,” I step in and inform him so he doesn't needlessly worry. I want him on his A-game, and that won’t happen unless he gets some much-needed rest.
“Stick close, Aurora.” He gives me his ‘I’m not playing around’ look. Which tells me my gut was straight on, there’s something amiss in the club. Something he’s desperately trying to fix and protect everyone from.
“Will do,” I promise him, not wanting to add any stress to his already filled plate of things to worry about.
While Rogue is outside watching Harmony, I pick up the phone and call Inferno and Napoleon. Both of these bozos knocked up a club whore and ended up with kids from their trysts between the sheets. Therefore, Nash and Asher only have the few old ladies here to portray the roles of mother for the two of them. However, Asher’s biological mother does pop in and out from time to time. Not that any of us mind helping out with these young men, but I feel bad for the boys as they grow older and ask questions that I’m not capable of answering when it comes to the women who gave birth to them. Their dads avoid those questions at all costs, and Asher mostly acts unbothered. Their fathers are not yet ready to admit to their sons that they only exist because they both made poor choices in which women to trust; and I’m not sure they will ever disclose that information. I know these men, and I’m positive that they used protection, which has always made me and the others believe they tampered with the rubber meant to protect from diseases and unwanted pregnancies; but why will always be the million-dollar question considering they ultimately left.
Those women stayed long enough to birth the two of their sons before being thrown out on their backsides. Anyone who betrays the brotherhood usually doesn't see the dawn of a new day, but since they mothered the boys, they were given a different chance. Only stipulation was that they signed their rights over and promised to never lay eyes on the boys. Inferno has been the exception, by allowing that terrible excuse of a so-called mother to play ping-pong out of their son's life; and I’ll never understand it.
When I talk to each one of the men individually, I can hear how truly tired they both are. I offer to watch the boys for the day so they can get some shut eye without interruption. After they agree, I inform them I’ll be around to gather up the boys here shortly. I figure I’ll get that taken care of while Rogue is entertaining our daughter. It’ll be easier to get them and their bikes without her delaying them both with her exuberance.
Walking out the front door, I say to Rogue, “I’m on my way to gather the boys and will be back before your hour’s up.”
“Sounds good, lay one on me, Rora,” Rogue says, puckering up his lips. I giggle for a second before obliging my old man’s wishes. Once my lips breeze across his, he pulls me into him and swipes his tongue along my bottom lip. I open mine up for him and he inserts his tongue. I’ve never been able to hold back from my man so I indulge him and duel his tongue with my own.
When we’re both breathless and panting, he pulls back, slapping my back side as he gives me a wink. “Love you, Rogue.”
“Love you too, Rora,” he states before turning his attention back to our daughter. With a giddiness I only experience with him, I leave him to his bonding time with Harmony and head off to gather the boys.
Chapter Two
Rogue
Five years later
I’m sitting in my office chair thumbing through paperwork as I blurt out the occasional obscenity, when Bane, my vice president, my right-hand man, comes strolling into the office and slams the door behind him, heading straight to the liquor cabinet.
“Trouble, brother?” I ask him, since he now has my undivided attention.
“Big trouble,” he responds, slamming his drink of my best bourbon down his throat. “I think we’ve got a traitor in our midst,” he states. At his words, my head snaps toward him so quickly that I feel my brain rattle from the movement.
“Wanna repeat that?” I growl out. Accusing someone, especially a brother, of being a traitor