Page 87 of Charger

“Don’t worry about him, babe, okay?”

She hesitates, then slowly nods before turning and leaving us. I wait until I hear the clunking of pots and pans.

“Where is he?” I ask them, grinding my teeth together. My fists are aching to feel his face, to break some goddamn bones.

“Hang on.” Chain walks over, hands in the air. “We got him in the pit’s basement, but listen to me. We need him alive. That bastard Scorpion took off before we got there, and no one knows where the fuck he’s at. And our best chance at finding him is in that pit.” He points out back.

I look at the rest of the guys: Tank, Hush, Bullet, Throttle. They’re all giving me the same look. The look that says, “Sorry, man, but he’s right.”

“Chain, Pres. He kidnapped my Ol’ Lady. He helped Scorpion almost sell her off to a fucking mob boss. So, what you’re asking of me, not to touch him, not to crush his skull with my bare hands, I cannot, and will not do.” I’m quick on my feet, heading for the back door. But the loud thunderous voice behind me stops me dead in my tracks.

“I’m not asking you. Everyone seems to think I’m asking people to do things. No.” He chuckles. “No, son, I’m fucking telling you right now. You are not to touch him.” By this time, I’ve already turned around, looking him straight in the eyes. Eyes that drip with authority, with rage, with fury. The same emotions mine held at the cottage. He steps closer, a nose hair from my face, and we’re toe-to-toe. “You think your girl is the only one? You think she’s the only one they planned on taking, on fucking selling? Believe me, son, I fucking get it. I would want to destroy whoever touched, whoever hurt, my Ol’ Lady too, but let me tell you something. Do you want to be responsible for another woman getting hurt because you can’t control your fucking anger?”

Thinking of being that guy, of being someone who could be responsible for taking away another life, makes me sick.

“Fuck,” I sigh and Chain smirks.

“You’ll get your chance. This just isn’t it.”

I nod, but really… I want to punch something.

“Okay, but can we all acknowledge the fact that our boy Charger here just called Jules his Ol’ Lady.” Tank laughs, everyone else joining in.

My fury softens. My Jules. My Ol’ Lady.

“Well, shit.” Bullet gets off his stool and walks to me, slapping me on the shoulder. “Guess a fucking congratulations is in order.”

“I mean, it’s about damn time you claimed that shit,” Throttle chimes in, then gives me the same slap to the shoulder, followed by another—this one from Hush.

“Uh, there is one more thing.” We all go silent as we look at Chain. “That mob boss who Bullet shot… Turns out he has a brother. A very powerful brother. And I have a feeling once he finds out about us sending his sibling six feet under, we’re going to have a real fucking shit show on our hands.”

The mood shifts almost immediately, all laughter stifled.

“Fuck, ain’t that a bitch.”

Tank rubs his chin before Chain replies, “Which is why the faster we find Scorpion, the better.”

“So, what do you plan on doing with Venom, boss? Leaving him down there with his thoughts and feelings?” Tank asks the question we were all thinking.

“I might have an idea.”

We all exchange looks. This could be interesting.

THIRTY-EIGHT

Jules

The smile on my face only grows bigger watching Chloe with Charger. I decided to call him Charger from here on out. The man before me, bouncing his five-year-old daughter on his knee, is not the boy I used to know. Sure, the kind, strong-willed, protective boy is still in there. But he’s different. He’s not the football-type jock who would make out with Sam in the hallways. Or, I guess you could say, he never was that boy to begin with. He never wanted to play football as a career. Hell, he never even wanted to go to college. He always wanted to be himself. And that was never him. He was the guy who wanted to be free, who wanted to own his own motorcycle, wanted to rebel in the most honest way he knew how. Somehow, whatever hardships he had to face along the way brought him to exactly where he needed and wanted to be.

“Uncle Chain, do you and Aunt Maggie have any cookies?”

Charger tugs me to him. Maggie makes a dramatically playful face. “Do we have any cookies? What kind of place do you think we’re running here, young lady? Of course, we have cookies.”

“Yeah, dontcha know, squirt, your Aunt Mags here makes the best dam-dang chocolate chip cookies around,” Tank says to Chloe.

“Yay!”

“Only a couple. You’ll spoil your appetite, little bug.”

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