know you think you know…”
“Oh, I do know.” I interrupt the bullshit he’s about to shovel as I pace at the foot of the bed, clenching my hand into a tight fist to control the rage that’s been brewing inside me for days.
I promised Mammoth I wouldn’t call Morris.
I promised Mammoth I’d keep my mouth shut.
He pleaded with me to leave shit alone and that he’d handle it once he was able to, which will be when I let him out of my sight long enough to go back to the compound.
But I’ve had enough.
It may not be my place to speak to Morris, but I have never been good at listening or following the rules.
Badass MC or not, I’m not remaining silent and taking a back seat, no matter how many times I promise my man I will.
“We do things by ourselves all the time. What the hell do you think I run? This ain’t the fuckin’ Boy Scouts,” he growls.
“Uh, Morris, I know you aren’t the fuckin’ Boy Scouts. I may not have grown up in the life, but I know enough that you do not send a brother out there alone. Not for something like he was doing.”
“What was he doing?” Morris asks, putting me on the spot again.
Fucker.
He knows damn well I have no freaking clue.
Mammoth is always tight-lipped when it comes to the club and has remained so, no matter how much I bug him to confide in me.
My gaze flickers to Mammoth as I answer. “You know what he was doing.”
“Refresh my memory. I’m old.”
I growl, cursing under my breath. “You’re not old. Stop with the bullshit. Admit your mistake and promise me it’ll never happen again.”
“Babe.”
I stop walking, staring at the wall in front of me. “Morris.”
“Come on,” he says playfully.
“Say it,” I demand.
He sighs. “I can’t control everything.”
“He. Was. Alone.”
“Again, not unusual.”
“He was shot, for fuck’s sake.”
“Happens sometimes,” he mutters.
I pull the phone away from my cheek, gawking at the screen like I can somehow see his face and he can see mine. “It happens sometimes?” I whisper, filled with rage.
“Yup,” he quips.
“It happens sometimes?” I whisper again, but this time slower because I can’t believe his answer.
“I didn’t send him to that titty bar. He was there for reasons outside of my control. So again, shit happens.”
I dig my fingertips into the corners of my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying like hell to hold in my anger. “Such an asshole,” I mumble, frustrated.
“Listen, kid. Is he okay?”
“He’s sleeping,” I say softly as I glance again at his naked body strewn across my bed with the sheet pulled up to his waist.
“So, he’s alive?” he asks me again.
“You already know he is.”
“If he’s okay and alive, then why the hell are you busting my balls about shit that’s in the past?”
“I don’t want that shit to bleed into our lives, to follow him into our future. I also don’t want the same shit to happen again because you send my man out there alone when he should’ve had a brother at his side.”
“Noted,” he says, and I think I finally have victory, but then he continues. “But he would still be lying in your bed with a hole in his shoulder. Maybe instead of just him being shot, one of the other guys would be too—or even worse, they’d be dead instead of still breathing like your man.”
I sober, thinking about Eagle, Ginger, or any of the other guys lying on the pavement with a bullet in their head.
I wrinkle my nose, immediately feeling ill. “You know I wouldn’t want that.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
I blink and look away from Mammoth as he starts to stir, turning my back and lowering my voice. “Not entirely.”
“I listened to every word you said, but I can’t control everything in the world, no matter how much you think I can.”
“I know. Trust me, I know you’re not God.”
“Nothing to do with God, babe. I’m sorry about Mammoth. Really, I am. You know how much he means to me and the rest of the club. The last thing I wanted or expected was for him to get hurt. Enemies are coming out of the woodwork. No one will be leaving the clubhouse to go on runs or anything else without another person at their side. It’s already been decided.”
“Then why are you giving me such a hard time?”
He laughs. “Babe.”
I stay silent and grind my teeth together.
“Listen,” he says, like I’m