injured soul, stopping the bleeding, but not closing the wound. Now that he’d opened the floodgates, he couldn’t hold back from expressing the worry he’d felt every day since Viper died. “I keep thinking I should have been able to do both. To make sure Viper and Jazz got out alive and chased down Jeremy.”
“Oh, well, look at you,” she said, voice heavy with sarcasm and eyes sparkling. “Didn’t realize you had a cape and bodysuit under that cut. Superman, in an MC. Who’da guessed?”
“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “I know I’m thinking irrationally. But…” He shrugged.
“But you wish Viper hadn’t died. Simple as that.”
With one hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose to fight off the tears while tugging Cassie to him with the other. “Yeah,” he said as he hugged her close. “Simple as that.”
“So do I, honey—every second of every day. But I do not for one second think you could have done anything differently. Had you tried, we might have been burying two or even three people we love. So please, Thunder, please release yourself from this burden. If you need to hear me say it, fine. I absolve you of any and all misguided and misplaced guilt. You’re just as much a hero as my husband, and you need to remember that. Your club loves you. I love you. It’s time to let yourself off the hook.”
With each word she spoke, a bit of weight lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you,” he whispered against the top of her head as he held her tight. “I should be the one comforting you.”
“It’s always a mom’s job to comfort her kids when they’re hurting.”
After walking Mama V back home, he said his goodbyes and took off. Between this conversation and constantly thinking of Makenna since he’d woken up, his brain felt like mush. What he needed was an afternoon of mindless fun, and he knew just the man to give it to him.
“The fuck’s wrong with you, man?” Screw asked two hours later, as he tossed his PS4 controller on the large ottoman in front of the couch. “You’re usually kicking my ass by now, and I’m mopping the floor with you. You hit your head or something?”
Or something.
“Nah, just off my game today.” He chucked his controller next to Screw’s with a huff as he sagged into the couch.
Gumby and Jazz went out for a little one-on-one time. Screw’d been feeling sorry for himself in his solo state, so he’d begged Thunder to come over for a few hours of Call of Duty before his gig.
Too bad his head was too scrambled to concentrate.
“This funk have anything to do with a responsible little dark-haired beauty who is in desperate need of some excitement in her life?” Screw lifted his beer to his lips as he spoke but didn’t sip, just stared at Thunder over the lip of the bottle.
“What? The fuck you talking about? No. Who, Makenna? Pfft, you’re fucking crazy. No.”
Oh, Christ.
Screw burst out laughing. “Yeah, good job convincing me, brother.”
“Can we not talk about this right now and just go back to you kicking my ass?”
With a shake of his head, Screw took a long pull from his beer. “Nope. This is more fun.”
“For who?” Thunder muttered.
“For me, obviously. Spill it. You fucked her, didn’t you?”
“Screwball.” Thunder tried to growl it out in as menacing a tone as he could muster. Too bad it had no effect on Screw, who snorted.
“Thunder,” he mocked back in the same tone. “You fucked her, and now you’re the one who’s fucked. In the noggin.” He twisted his body until his head propped against the armrest, and his long legs rested on Thunder’s thighs. “Come one, tell Dr. Screw all about it. Let me shrink your head.”
“Uh, aren’t I supposed to be the one lying on the couch, asshole?”
Screw shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Besides, I’m comfortable, and it’s my house, so I get to make the rules. Now, start talking.”
With a snort, Thunder shoved Screw’s nasty feet off him and stood. “Ain’t nothing to talk about. Yeah, I fucked her, but that’s it. Since when are you one to talk about everyone you fuck?”
“Well, I only fuck two people these days, but I’ll give you all the details you want. Say the word.”
Ugh. “No, thanks.”
After dropping his feet to the floor, Screw sat up again. “So nothing’s going on? Just some straight-up tension relief? One and done?”
“Yep,” he said, popping the p as he