babe, if you ain’t goin’ in as my old lady, you may find yourself in a shitload of trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, fresh meat is always fair game.” She smiles that dark smile, telling me all I need to know.
“I think I like the sound of that.”
Chapter Twelve
Mom is set up at the safe house. Doesn’t ease the tension inside of me though. That bastard set out to have her killed. I can’t believe he would stoop that low but then again, this is the man who wanted me dead.
“You ready for this?” Preacher asks, slapping a hand on my shoulder as we stand outside the clubhouse.
“Goddamn right I am. Go in and act like you don’t know shit,” I tell him, nodding toward the clubhouse. Preacher flicks his cigarette through the air before walking off. Silla steps up next to me, her arms hanging at her sides.
“What do you think he’s going to say?”
“Fuck if I know. The bastard looked me in the goddamn eyes the last time he saw me and watched me die.”
“I bet he will shit his pants seeing you come back in those doors.” She giggles. I just shrug.
“He had to know I wasn’t dead. Why put the hit out on my mom if not to get me out of hidin’?”
“Maybe he was just tying up loose ends.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Don’t overthink it, Grave. I’ve seen people kill for less,” she adds. It kind of makes sense.
“You can back out,” I tell her once more but when she grabs my hand, I know she isn’t going anywhere. Taking a deep breath, I squeeze her hand and head for the door. I straighten my back as I walk, keeping my head held high. When we reach the door, I release her hand and pull it open. Stepping inside is like stepping into a time warp. It’s only been months since I was here, but it feels like forever. As soon as the door closes behind us, all eyes find me. Some gasp, others smile.
“Grave? The fuck, brother?” Freak says when his eyes fall on mine. He strolls over, pulling me into a hug I didn’t realize I missed. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” His voice is a mere whisper, but I heard it. He’s just as confused as the rest of us.
“Not sure, brother.” He pulls back, nodding his head when I glance around the room. Most of the guys come say hi and give me a hug but there are a few keeping their distance. Psycho is in the corner slowly rocking himself back and forth. He looks up at me and my insides nearly shatter. I knew he was off his meds and it fucking shows. His eyes are vacant yet feral. He’s highly aggressive when he isn’t on his medicine. I slowly walk toward him, trying to gauge his reaction to me when he stands up.
“You left me!” he roars. I can feel Silla right behind me and when I nod at Preacher, he knows to stop her. He walks past me as I keep walking toward my best friend.
“I didn’t want to, brother. Wasn’t really my choice.” His eyes are wild as they bounce between mine. I hate seeing him like this—so unbalanced and out of control.
“Fuck you, Grave! Fuck! Greyson.” He says my name a little softer than the other words and I know he’s trying to fight the bullshit going on in his head right now. I hate it. I wish I could take it all away from him, but I can’t. Instead, the closer I get to him, the more he seems to calm.
“I’m sorry, Psycho. I didn’t wanna go, brother, but I’m here now. I’m back, yeah?” He looks at me, torn as to what to do or think. I feel like shit for not letting him know but I couldn’t have him acting any differently around my dad. He would have known something then.
“You’re here?” he asks a little softer this time, some of the anger slowly falling from his gaze.
“I’m here, man.” He comes closer and I pull him into a hug. I’ve known him my whole life. We grew up in this club together, but something was always different about him. He was always a little off. I didn’t care though because he was my best friend and whatever was happening in his head was just a part of him.
“You’re stayin’?” he asks as I hold him against me.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere, brother.”
“And he