Beard Up(14)

"Guess he didn't get the memo." Ghost muttered.

I knew what that meant. 

The man, Josh, was about to get the memo … and painfully.

Too bad by the time I got to her house, it was already completely empty. Oh, and let's not forget that Ghost's entire club watched a grown man nearly cry.





Chapter 7


I wish everything was as easy as getting fat was.

-True shit

Mina

A month had passed, and I had not received one single phone call or text message from Josh. My contract was fulfilled, and I was hoping that my life could get back to normal.

I'd even gotten my job back. With the same pay and hours.

Thank God.

What I didn't get, though, was the feeling of peace.

Something else was wrong, because I knew that Josh wouldn't just give up as he had.

Something had happened, and I wanted to know what.

But to learn that, I'd have to actually contact Josh, and that sure as hell wasn't going to happen. No way, no how.

Sienna was glad to be back in her home with her own things, as well as the space to do whatever she pleased.

But, most of all, she was happy to have her motorcycle club family back in her life. Her surrogate fathers coming around and bringing her things just because they could.

Hell, she wasn't the only one who missed it.





Chapter 8


Some people will only love you if you fit into their box. Don't be afraid to shove that box up their ass.

-E-card

Ghost

It was three hours into Mina's arrival back home when Josh tried to make his first move.

I had the house under surveillance, and after a call from one of Lynn's men, I was there within thirty minutes. I arrived just in time to see Josh stepping out of his car, his eyes focused on the front door.

"Guess you didn't get my message," I murmured.

Josh stiffened, not having realized that I, nor anyone else, was close to him.

He was heading up the front walkway to Mina's house-my house-and hadn't once looked to see if he was alone.

I wanted to smile, but chose to allow him to think that I wasn't as fucked up in the head as I was.

"How did I know that you'd be here the moment I arrived?" he chided.

I didn't answer him.

"How did I know you'd be here the moment she got back home?" I shot back. "How did you know she was here at all? All she did was drive into town. You got some lookouts?"

Not on my street, he didn't. It was possible that he had some in town, but that was unlikely, too. This was Dixie Warden territory. Nobody fucked up in their territory and lived to tell about it.

And despite Mina's husband being dead, she still belonged to the MC and always would.

Doubly so, if you thought about me being a part of the Dixie Wardens in two different lives.

He finally turned, and I got a load of his eyes.

They were harder, a little less scared of me this time, and I didn't like that. Didn't like that he thought he didn't need to fear me any longer.

"I had questions," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why would a man be so adamant that some other man move out of the neighborhood so a woman didn't get pursued by him, unless that man had some sort of attachment to said woman?"

I didn't like where this line of questioning was headed.

Not even a little bit.

"I started doing some digging," he grinned. "I've had a month to really think hard about this, and I think I figured it out."


      ///
       
         
       
        

I knew he knew who I was before he said what he said next.

"See, I was a lowly soldier on the Morrison's totem pole when their son died," he continued, staring at my face to see if I was reacting to what he was saying.

But I wouldn't give him that.

Not in a million years.

"Their son was about your size, less muscle, though, and had these fucked up green eyes … kind of like yours," he grinned. "But he was a cop, so I stayed the fuck away from him when I saw him in town. Always turned the other way. I always wondered how the hell a couple like the Morrisons could allow their son to be a LEO-a law enforcement officer-when they did what they did. But I didn't say anything, because if I had, they'd see me as using my brain and thinking independently from what they wanted. So, I chose to keep my trap shut … then, one day, their beloved son dies."

His smile was lazy. As if he had all the time in the world to form what he was saying into a nice pretty package and wrap it up with a fucking bow on top.

"Well, he doesn't die. Not really. Because I'm there when they bring him back. He's fucked up, but I don't really care about staying away from him anymore. He's too sick. Too fucking weak to hurt me or my operations now. So I do my job, guard him and the other men that the Morrisons are-erm-using, and go home at night to my side jobs."