His Lady: The Wounded Souls
Page 19
“Fucking oath it was fucked up. Care to explain what is going through your dickhead mind?”
Booth stared hard at the monitor in front of him, no doubt watching his wife as she slept.
If… fuck, I didn’t want to think about if. I did know that I wasn’t going to vote Booth out of his position, no fucking way.
“Okay, please let me explain,” Booth yelled over our protests. “If Rogue turns out to be my… Jerry, then the devastation we have suffered lands on my shoulders. Vegas dying is my fault.”
Of all the stupid shit!
“That is the biggest load of bull fucking shit I have ever heard, and I, for one, will not vote for it,” Deck shouted, his hands hitting the table hard. “What happened was because of one man’s deranged ideas of what he thinks happened over there—not what he knows. What we know.” Deck looked at every man in the room. “We were there. We lived it, and we know the truth. Carson’s death was a tragedy of war, nothing more than that. Enough said.”
“As the VP of this club, I can tell you now that I ain’t taking the helm from you, Booth. Not happening, brother,” Steel said with the same determination I was feeling.
“The same goes for me,” Darth added his two cents’ worth. No way could he blame Booth for what happened to his woman.
Booth hung his head, his hands planted on his hips. When he raised his head, his stare went directly to Creed.
“Brother?”
“Rogue killed Dundee, he killed Vegas, he killed my pregnant wife, and he tried to kill me. It was Rogue, not you, Booth. I got no intention of being led by anyone else. Fucking copy that?”
“All right, then. Thank you. I have Ford working on Jerry’s whereabouts and already got someone watching my mum. Let’s leave the rest of this shit until after we lay Vegas to rest. Then… then we find that fucking cunt and kill him.”
Since becoming civilians, it was the first time I had ever heard Booth talk of killing. We’d made a vow our killing days were behind us, and I was happy with that. Killing because I was ordered to was in my past, something I didn’t want a part of. Rogue was most likely Booth’s own father—the evidence pointed in that direction. Booth had never steered me wrong as my president or as my CO.
This was a unique situation, though. Jerry was hunting our women, and I was not going to let him take another life.
“Agreed,” I said and gave Booth a chin lift.
I wanted a world where Rainn and my kids were safe, and I got that now. I now understood Deck’s alpha ways when it came to his family, Steel’s overprotectiveness of Mia, and Booth’s constant worry and his obsession with making sure he knew where Stella was at any given time. I finally got it because I had that now, a reason to get up in the morning and live my life instead of muddling my way through it always angry and pissed off. I was having far too much enjoyment loving my way through it instead.
“Now let’s wrap this up so I can go play with Rainn’s belly. When I balance things on her belly, they kick them off. Swear to Christ it’s funny as fuck,” I told them with a laugh. Rainn didn’t agree, but she indulged my adolescent fun.
“You are a fucking idiot, Mannix,” Steel grumbled. He hit me hard on my shoulder.
“And your point?”
We all laughed and made our way out of the war room, each of us going to our separate rooms to our women. Darth went with Deck. He hadn’t left Shiloh except for the meeting today, and having her close calmed his rage—for now.
The only brother who didn’t head to his room was Creed. Instead, he made his way to the front door. Where he went on his own was a mystery, but I knew Creed, and when the time was right, he would share. We were a brotherhood, and there was nothing better than that.
———
Epilogue
———
CREED
My phone rang in my pocket just as I was about to get on my bike. I briefly thought about letting it ring since I’d reached my limit of bullshit and drama for the day. My protective nature won the inner struggle, though. So I had to answer just in case it was her.
“Creed.”
“How fast can you ride, Stephens?” Rogue, my former sniper trainer and mentor, used his own voice, no longer digitally enhancing it.
“What the fuck do you want, Jerry? How the fuck can you sleep at night, you prick. Killing innocent women, hurting a little girl. What the fuck happened to the man I once admired?”
As I spoke, I looked around for anyone from the club. Seeing Ford and Lucky in what seemed to be a heated argument, I covered the microphone with my finger and whistled loud through my teeth to get their attention.
“I lost my only son because of the incompetence of my whore of a wife’s bastard son.”
What the fuck? The crazy fucking idiot had lost it. Lucky and Ford were now standing beside me, so I held the phone out so they could hear the same things I heard for themselves.
“The pregnant stripper lived, I see. Oh, well, at least I got one. How is Vader feeling, by the way? Actually, I couldn’t give a fuck. You didn’t answer the original question, Creed. How fast can you ride?”
I was so over this wanker’s games. “What are you rambling about?”
“Watch yourself, boy. Piss me off, and that cute bookstore owner may find her store goes up in flames. So, again, how fast can you ride?” A maniacal laugh was followed by the dial tone.
My blood froze in my veins.
“Jesus Christ, no.” I shoved my phone back into the pocket of my cut and sprinted to my bike.
“Creed, where you going?” Ford shouted.
“Tell Booth there is no doubt Jerry is Rogue. Tell him to lock the compound down. I will be back for the funeral.”
“Where you going, Cap?”
I didn’t bother answering. There wasn’t time. I had a forty-minute ride that I needed to make in twenty-five. Rogue mentioned the bookstore, which meant I had been sloppy. I took a different route nearly every time I left to visit, but I must have picked up a tail despite my efforts not to.
It looked like the club was going to find out about Memphis before I wanted.
SO NOT THE END.
Acknowledgments
You know, at first, I thought Mannix was going to be difficult to write. I didn’t have a strong connection with him in the first three books. As I wrote, his story came so quickly to me that I had trouble keeping up with him. Being cheated on made him the way he was, and as I drew on some personal experiences, voilà, Mannix became more real to me.
Other parts of Mannix and Rainn’s story were equally as hard to write—Vegas being a big part of it. It was always my intention to do what I did as it was integral to the plot. I am, however, sorry for doing it, and hope you forgive me.
Thanks, blue eyes, for letting me borrow your car’s name. Oh, didn’t I tell you? Oops, my bad.
About the Author
Leah Sharelle loves the idea of being in love. Since her early teens, when she first discovered Silhouette Desire novels, her life has been all about reading. She would find herself rewriting scenes if she wasn’t happy with them and then would hide them under her bed. That led her to write love stories of her own. They all ended up under her bed and are still there—where she says they will stay.
Leah is a mum of three beautiful girls, living in Australian, and she has what most say is a weird sense of humour. She spends her free time doing movies, Sons of Anarchy, and Friends marathons. And reading. She doesn’t do angst. In fact, it drives her crazy. She loves Pina Coladas and getting caught in the rain. There’s that weird humour.
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