Undeserving (Undeniable #5)(95)

They climbed higher up the stairs, and soon Sylvia's hysterical ranting filled Preacher's ears. Frank flicked his gaze down the empty hallway. "They're in Joe's room. You want my help, or you want me standin' guard?"

"Wait here. Make sure no one else comes up."

Leaving Frank at the end of the hall, Preacher crept cautiously toward Joe's room. Keeping against the wall, he peeked inside.

Sylvia stood just inside the doorway clutching a small revolver-a .38 special that Preacher recognized as one of several guns he'd given specifically to Joe. Preacher ground his teeth. His brother wasn't just careless, he was a bona fide moron.

"Where'd you get the gun, Sylvie?" Preacher called out.

She spared a quick glance over her shoulder, long enough for Preacher to see that her face was streaked with makeup and tears. "Mind your own damn business, Preacher!"

"This is my business," he replied. "That's my little brother you're pointin' a gun at."

Sylvia let out a strangled sob. "Your little brother is a rotten two-timin' whore!"

Preacher sighed. If Sylvia didn't shoot Joe, he just might do it himself. "Yep, Sylvie, he sure is. But that don't mean you can shoot him."

"He never comes home!" she cried. "I can't come to the club anymore, and he never comes home! And then I find him with this-this whore!"

"I didn't know he was married!" a new voice cried out.

"What did you say?" Sylvia turned toward the voice, and the gun in her hand began to quake.

"Sylvie, no!" Joe shouted. "Point the fuckin' gun at me!"



       
         
       
        

Preacher quickly shifted to the opposite side of the doorway, allowing him a better view of the room. A young woman with messy brown hair and red lipstick smeared across her cheek was sitting up in Joe's bed, clutching a blanket to her chest.

A few feet away Joe stood naked, cupping his crotch with both hands.

The gun swung back to Joe and Sylvia exploded. "What? You care about this whore? You can't make time for your own son, but you care about her?"

"Please, Sylvie," Joe pleaded. "You've got to calm down. That ain't what I meant!"

Preacher's eyes were on the gun wobbling precariously in Sylvia's unsteady grip. One wrong twitch on the trigger and Joe was going to end up with a hole in his chest.

Out of time and options, Preacher lunged, grabbing Sylvia from behind. Quickly gripping her wrists, he squeezed until she cried out in pain, and the gun clattered to the floor.

"No!" Sylvia thrashed in his arms, twisting her body and flailing her legs. Wrapping his arms around her middle, Preacher dragged her into the hallway.

"Frank! The gun, the girl!" he roared needlessly. Frank was already there, rushing past him into the room.

"Listen to me, Sylvie!" Preacher had to shout to hear himself over Sylvia's hysterical screaming. "Joe doesn't love you! You hear me? He does not fuckin' love you!"

Sylvia went still and silent.

"He didn't want to marry you, either." Preacher lowered his voice and softened his tone. "He did it ‘cause our old man told him he had to."

Sylvia heaved brokenly. "No," she whispered hoarsely. "No … "

"You know it's true. You know I'm right, Sylvie."

"I thought he was gonna change. I thought he could love me …  oh God, I'm a fool … " Shoulders shaking, she began to sob. Preacher held her until she quieted and then he turned her in his arms and set her back against the wall.

"Joe ain't ever gonna be faithful," he told her. "Not ever. But I can't have you at the club pullin' guns on people and makin' a goddamn scene, can I?"

Sylvia's bloodshot eyes filled with fresh tears. "No."

"Good girl. So I'm gonna need you to make a decision, Sylvie. Right here, right now, okay?"

Nodding limply, Sylvia's gaze dropped to the floor. "Okay," she whispered.

"You got two choices. You take my piece-of-shit brother as he is-you raise his babies and stay the hell away from the club, no questions asked. You do that, and I promise you Joe will be comin' home most nights, and he won't be bringing any of his bullshit with him." 

"Preacher-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Preacher spun around and collided with Joe. Shoving Joe up against the wall, he pressed his forearm to his brother's throat.

"I don't give a flyin' fuck what you've got to say right now. "You're my goddamn VP, and you know better than anyone what's at stake right now! But instead of makin' sure shit goes smoothly, I'm up here disarming your fuckin' wife ‘cause you seem to keep forgettin' you have one!"