Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies Collection - Page 224

“Allow me to provide a guy’s perspective, since it’s usually us who fuck up.” I grin at that. “Men tend to focus on one thing at a time, whatever needs priority. Unfortunately, it leaves little room for anything else. It’s been made clear to me, on more than one occasion, it feels like I tap out—ignore everything else—nothing could be further from the truth.”

I raise my eyebrows. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve studied enough psychology to know guys process differently from women, but it still sounds like an excuse to me. Damian must read the skepticism on my face. He grins, shakes his head and clarifies.

“Look, I can only speak for myself, but I can assure you the reason I allow myself to get so fixated on whatever I’m dealing with is, the sooner I get it out of the way, the sooner I can get back to what’s really important to me: my wife and my family.”

Damian gives me a lot to think about, but even if he’s right, I’m still stuck on the fact Ouray could’ve communicated something to me one of the many times I tried to address what I perceive to be a growing divide.

It’s getting close to three—almost time for Hua McNamee to pick her kids up from school—when a dark luxury SUV pulls up beside my undercover vehicle. Before I have a chance to take a closer look, the soft plop of a silencer has me duck for cover, glas

s showering me.

I’m wedged under the steering wheel for the only cover I have. A sitting duck, with the SUV much higher than this damn Corolla, they could just pick me off. I manage to free my gun just as I hear much louder gunshots fill the air.

Ouray

When is she coming back?

My son has planted himself in front of my desk, a stubborn look on his face.

For the past four days, since Luna went on assignment, Ahiga’s been moping around the clubhouse. It was easier just to stay here, have him drive back and forth from school with the other boys. Lisa, who took over cooking for the club after Momma got shot, has kept him under her wing before and after school and he’s been sleeping in the boys’ quarters.

Don’t know. I sign back.

Do you even talk to her anymore? His fingers betray his agitation.

Kind of busy, bud.

His snort is audible. We’ve noticed.

“Watch your tone,” I caution him, echoing my words with my hands.

Jesus, everybody’s on my case. I told Trunk off yesterday when he mentioned something about me spending too much time here and too little with my family. Like I don’t fucking know that. But what goddamn good does that do if I can’t provide them with a safe place to live, a secure income to live on. We depend on the club for that, but the fucking club has barely recovered from the shitshow last year.

Someone has to tell you to get your head out of your ass.

I shoot up, kicking my chair back at Ahiga’s words, but the boy doesn’t flinch. He stands proud, with a defiant lift to his chin.

Sonofabitch.

Mom is sad. She thinks she’s hiding it, but she isn’t. I’m sad too. We miss you. We haven’t had a family dinner in months. You haven’t asked me about my midterms or been to see any of my football games. I bet you don’t even know Mom went to the doctor’s a few weeks ago. She said it was nothing, but she’d been crying. Where were you?

After his impassioned rant, he turns on his heel and almost runs out of the office, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

Luna had been to see a doctor? When? What the hell for? She never mentioned a damn thing to me.

“What the fuck do you want?” I bark into the phone when it rings.

“Good afternoon to you too.” The voice sounds almost amused, getting me even hotter under the collar. “To answer your question, I just had a conversation with your wife. Well, technically I talked and she listened, but I—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Damian.” I sit down heavy in my chair. “Does everyone have a fucking opinion?”

“Shut up and listen. When was the last time you made her feel cared for? Loved? You need to decide if what’s been keeping you busy is worth losing your wife over. I know Luna, keep this up and you’ll lose her.”

A cold fist closes around my heart, and I almost miss hearing the address he recites before I hear nothing but dead air.

Shit.

It takes me a little less than an hour to pull into the neighborhood. The first thing I notice is the black Lexus stopped beside the tan Toyota. The doors just inches apart. Then I catch what looks like a faint muzzle flash and everything slows down to a crawl as I hear the shattering of glass.

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