Page 31 of War

His eyes peel open, and my lungs constrict, holding all the air in them hostage.A half smile tilts one side of his face as his daughter stares down at him.Jealously, green and ugly, whirls.I’d give anything to see my dad alive.

“You look like shit.”Callan leans against the side of the bed, his tone wavering with a mix of relief and humor.

“I don’t think they’ve fed me,” his father grunts in return, his voice raw, raspy.

“I’ll have them rectify that for you.”Kitty brushes the sleeve of her jacket under her eye, swiping an errant tear from her cheek.

Jericho’s eyes trail over Callan’s cut, a smile creasing his lips.“They say I’m going to be okay, so don’t get too comfortable in my seat.”

Kitty lets out a small laugh.“We’ve missed you.I’m so glad you’re okay.”

It’s almost intrusive that I remain in the shadows, watching from afar.Jericho’s too preoccupied with his kids to see the stranger in the room.

“What can you tell us about what happened to you?”Callan cuts to the chase, and all my senses come alive.

“I got shot.”

“No shit.”A growl rumbles up Callan’s throat.“You didn’t tell anyone where you were going.”

“Do I have to?”Jericho scoffs.“Are you forgetting that I’m the pres—not the other way around.”

“It’s because you’re the pres that you shouldn’t be going places without at least letting a brother know.Look what happened.”Callan fumes, his eyes narrowing on his dad.

“I’ve been seeing someone,” he confesses.

“Who?”Kitty asks, a crease forming along her forehead.

“It doesn’t matter.She doesn’t like fucking at the club, so I meet her at the motel opposite Ray’s bar.”

“Since when do you go chasing ass?”Callan raises a brow.

“Only when the ass is worth the twenty-minute trip.”

“What happened?You couldn’t satisfy her so she shot you?”Callan asks in a teasing tone.But there’s nothing humorous about the way his gaze drifts over his dad’s torso, knowing bullet holes scar his skin.

“Watch your mouth.I left her slumped in a fresh-fucked haze and went to take care of some business.”

“Alone?”

“I didn’t think I’d need back up.I was meeting one guy.”

“Who?”

I hold my breath, waiting, listening.The anticipation accelerates my pulse.

A snap of energy crackles through the air as Jericho grabs his son’s wrist, leaning toward him.“That little bastard from the Devil Riders’ club.”

The world around me spins.

“Who?”Callan demands with his posture rigid, matching my own.

“Their president, Tyler.”

CHAPTER9

THE TRUTH HURTS

Tyler.Tyler.Tyler.

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