Page 21 of Behemoth

He grabs my extended hand, giving it a squeeze as he gives me a couple of brotherly pounds on my back. As we switch places, he takes a seat at Brick's desk as I head out to handle a brother in crisis.

Only problem is, I don’t know what his exact issue is. Hoping for once my skills will be able to draw out whatever is fuckin’ with Beast. Otherwise, we will have another problem on top of all the bullshit we are muddling through now.

"Get out of my face, Stitch, you asshole. I don't owe you anything, least of all an explanation of what is goin' on in my life. You ain't my father or preacher. If I want to drink, fuck pussy, or play pool, I'll do just that, motherfucker. Now get out of my way before I land you on your ass, jagoff."

Hearin’ the words coming out of his mouth, my mind struggles with what is going on behind the scenes. Beast is desperately trying to hide something from me. Me, of all people. Does this dumbass not realize I can get into his head, not to mention interpret his emotions, which currently are all over the board? He clued in years ago about my skills. What is overwhelming my brother that he could have forgotten what he knows.

The heat that starts at the back of my neck and moves to the top of my skull informs me of his extreme emotional distress. The sweet butt up on my brother looks my way but her eyes are blown. She’s high as a fuckin’ kite. Which is infuriating me, as drugs are a definite NO in this club. After the shit we went through years back to get rid of that shit, there is no leeway allowed for it.

"Beast, come on, brother, ya need to calm the fuck down. Too much is goin' on, we need to get a handle on this and move forward. We need you right now. Got to stand strong until Prez can get back into the groove. Talk to me, bro, I'm here ready and willin’ to help ya. But I gotta know what is goin' on for me to help. There isn't nothin' I wouldn't do for you, Beast, and ya know it. Explain what’s goin' on? And, bitch, get the fuck away from him. In fact, get gone right now."

The sweet butt gives me her scared eyes before she longingly looks at Beast, who just motions with a head nod toward the door. She huffs her way to and through said door. Well, at least he used the right head to get rid of that problem.

"Stitch, I know shits flying around here. I'm here for whatever you need. With sayin' that, I got my own shit coming from all directions. So sorry, man, that I wanted to lose myself in some drink and pussy. I just need a moment to myself. See now this isn't the place I'm gonna find it. If I'm needed just reach out. I'm out."

Then to my utter surprise he lifts up, slaps my shoulder, and lumbers to the door without a glance back at me. Fuck, that did not go like I thought it would. But with so much shit on Fury’s and my shoulders, unfortunately Beast's crap is gonna have to go to the back burner for now. We have a club to keep afloat. So with these thoughts I turn and head back to Brick's office to give Fury a hand.

Rubbing my hands through my hair, my head is fuckin' killing me. I reach for my phone to let Grace know I'm gonna be late. No way can I leave, as we are about halfway through the shit all over Prez's desk. Waiting for the phone to go through, I glance to my right to see Fury is also on his phone. Probably giving his woman, Abby, a call. That is a one of a kind situation I don't get. Not my place but what a unique pair.

"Hey, Dad, Mom is not available right now."

"Damien, what’s goin' on? Where’s your mom and why are ya answerin' her phone, Son?"

"Dad, her and Aunt Abby are with Auntie Emmie. She is having a bad day. Uncle Brick is losing his shi...I mean his mind, so Gramps Bubba and that prospect, Dingo, are with him in the backyard. Do you want me to go get her? I can if you want."

"No, Son, just let her know I called and that both Fury and I are stuck at the clubhouse. Not sure when we will be done. Also tell her if she needs anything to reach out okay, kid?"

"Will do, Dad. Hey, if you pull those papers off of Uncle Brick's desk on the right side, you will see duplicates of those two bills you can't find. Talk to you later. Bye."

Hearin’ him disconnect, I put my phone down, not a fuckin’ clue what Damien is going on about. I look to the right pile of papers, and there under the top page are the two invoices we just spent a couple of hours trying to decipher. Holy shit. I must be throwing off some major vibes for him to feel my frustration and be able to figure out what two grown men couldn't. I hold the two pages up and waggle them in the air. Fury leans over and grabs them. Shaking his head, a smirk on his face, he glances up at me.

"How the holy hell did you find these, Stitch?"

“Damien told me to look to the right so I did and found those invoices."

"Well, I'll be fucked, next time let's reach out to him in the beginning. It will save us time and the bullshit of bumping our heads against each other."

As we both shared a much-relieved laugh, we sit back and finish this shit. Fury reaches to the bottom drawer and pulls out the Jack and two glasses. Gonna be a long night and we both can't wait to head home to our families.

Entering our home much later that evening, I'm exhausted. Fury and I managed to finish everything. We even took some time and just talked. I have a new respect for my brother. Fury is very private and I'm honored he shared some things with me. He’s totally hooked on Abby and her boys. He doesn't speak much of his past but is definitely looking to their future as a family.

Speaking of family, I glance around and realize my family is probably in bed. Another long fuckin' day. I go to the fridge and see the note by the handle, informing me a plate is warming for me in the oven. I turn and open the door, immediately assaulted with smells that remind my stomach how hungry I am.

Reaching for a dish towel I pull the plate out and remove the foil. Three slices of meatloaf surrounded with mashed potatoes and peas. Damn, how did Grace know I had a cravin' for her meatloaf?

I plop my ass at the table and dig in.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Grace

Waiting on Francis to finally get home, my head is all over the place. I'm worried about Emmie, specifically her state of mind with the surgery. She’s almost desperate to have a baby, and if that can't happen down the road not sure what she will do. Turning I let out a small scream as I literally jump back when I see Damien leaning against the doorway. Leaning. His lips tilt up just like Francis' when I do goofy stuff.

"Momma, you are so silly. Who’d you think was in the house with you? I know I have stealth skills, but Dad is right, you do get goofy. Anyhow, I just wanted to set your mind at ease. Auntie Emmie is gonna be just fine. I see quite a few babies in her and Uncle Brick's future. Gotta have faith. Don't worry so much. It's not good for you; that’s what you're always telling everyone. What is the saying you use all the time, practice what you preach."

I stare at my son who is smiling at me, who seems so much older than his barely nine years on this earth, and he is throwing my own words at me. As we continue to stare at each other, I suddenly feel like the pressure surrounding me slowly releasing. My son suddenly takes a deep breath and walks toward me, arms out. I pull him close and an immediate peace surrounds me. Almost like when Francis holds me when I'm upset.

"Damien, thank you for being such a good kid. I know you worry about me, but everything will fall where it is suppose to. One thing to remember, kiddo, is there are things out of our control. And you are correct; Emmie will be just fine. She has Brick and her family to give her the support necessary to not only recover but move forward with life however that will be."

---