Page 19 of Static

Sighing, I tossed the scrub brush into a bucket of sudsy water and stood. I stretched my back out as I did. I was nearly done. It had taken four buckets of water and a borrowed upholstery cleaner—of which I now owed Jenny a new one—but my car was almost clean. I'd have to leave the windows open for a while for it to finish airing out.

"What orders?"

"From Lock," he said.

"I know your mother taught you not to talk with your damn mouth full," I muttered.

He chuckled. "Puke in your car. Enforcing table manners." He nodded. "You're ready."

"For what?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I was going to need another shower after this.

"To be a dad," he informed me. He raised his brows. "You change your mind yet?"

I glowered at him.

His mouth dropped open, displaying the half chewed sub inside. "You have," he crowed. He coughed as he sucked a bit down his windpipe, then he finally swallowed.

"It didn't take you long to go from suits and boardrooms to being as disgusting as some of these guys," I informed him.

He chuckled and shrugged. "When in Rome. And don't change the subject. What happened?"

I grunted as he slung his arm around me, the one with the hand not holding the sandwich thankfully. He started dragging me back toward the clubhouse. "Caught her with another guy."

Idaho stopped, released me, and let out a low whistle. "Do we have another body to hide?" He took another bite of the sandwich. "At least Krier isn't going to get lonely down there in that mine shaft."

"He's alive," I told him, "for now."

He laughed and shook his head. "But you did change your mind? You're going to claim her?"

"What did Lockout want?" I asked, trying to distract him. I'd just come to grips with it all myself, I wasn't ready to talk about it yet.

"Oh, yeah. Church."

"Shit. Why didn't you say that earlier?"

He tilted his head. "Didn't I?"

"No, dickhead, you didn't. Let's go." It wasn't often we were invited to church, so this had to be about Fremont.

We walked into the meeting room and Idaho just shot his brother a wide smile when Lock gave him a disapproving look. I wasn't sure if it was because he had food in here, or if it was because we were late. As long as I wasn't yelled at, I didn't give a shit.

"No. Nope," Toxic said, shaking his head. "You still fucking stink. Go sit over there next to the shit pumper, Prospect."

Hellfire looked up at that and flipped his middle finger at the man. But he pulled out the empty seat next to him in invitation.

"I swear your sense of smell has been burned away," Toxic told Hellfire. "At least you have a good excuse." His eyes met mine. "What's yours?"

"What's yours for being a fucking pansy ass moth-"

"Knock it the fuck off," Lock barked.

We fell silent, but Toxic gave me a malicious grin. He'd find some way to make me pay for calling him a pansy ass motherfucker, even though I didn't get it all out. I bit back the grin. Despite all the shit talking I liked the asshole. He kept things fun around here. Especially in times like this when shit was already tense.

Lockout waited a beat before he started. "I had an idea on how to draw out Fremont."

Now everyone was laser focused on him.

"We hit him where it hurts."

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