Page 63 of Butcher

I searched his face as he stared down at the table, glaring daggers through it. “Would you like him not to be?”

His eyes met mine. “Huh?”

“Living?” I asked. I was dead serious and the look that crossed his face said he knew it. “I could make that stop for him.”

He looked surprised then a grin spread over his face. “You know, that’s the first thing that Dean said, more or less, the first time I told him the story.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You two are a lot alike.”

“We are,” I admitted.

“But no, thank you. As hard as it’s been I’ve made my peace with the man who killed my wife.” He saw my look of doubt and smiled. “Mostly. If he hadn’t cleaned up his act, I wouldn’t have stopped Boone from killing the guy the first time. Hell, would’ve done it myself. But he did his time in prison and still to this day doesn’t drink. I make sure of it.” He patted my hand again. “Thank you for your offer. You’re a sweet girl.”

I was neither sweet nor a girl, but the man was in his seventies so I’d let him call me whatever he wanted. Didn’t matter that he didn’t look his age, or that the single women swooned at his feet. He had no effect, other than a fatherly one, on me. Most men didn’t though. I used to be able to say no man did. Couldn’t say that anymore.

“Do me a favor?”

I focused back on him and nodded.

“Take care of my boys?” His smile turned wry. “They aren’t telling me exactly what’s happening but I’ve seen all the shit they’ve stowed away in those vehicles over the last few days. And I know my boys. They aren’t telling me so I won’t worry, but I can read it all over their faces. Something big is coming.”

My nod was the only answer I gave to that last loaded statement. If Toxic and Butcher weren’t telling Daryl what was about to happen, Iwasn’t going to either. The fact that Daryl called Butcher his son made my heart melt all over again though. “I will,” I said, acknowledging his request.

“I know I don’t know you well just yet, but that makes me feel better.”

Laughing, I shook my head. “Thank you, but your...boys...are more than capable of taking care of themselves. And each other.”

“They are,” he replied with a nod, “but it never hurts to have help.”

“True.”

He tilted his head. “Do me one more favor?”

“What’s that?”

“What realization did you just come to?” There was knowledge there in his eyes. “I won’t tell a soul,” he promised when I hesitated.

“I just realized it was pointless to fight my feelings,” I admitted. There was just something about him that made it easy to tell the truth. “And…maybe there is a way out of this life, into a better one. A real one.”

He nodded. “It would make me happier than a pig in shit to see my sons find women and settle down. Both of them.”

“A pig in shit... That’s a very...unique...description.”

He laughed. “Come out to the ranch sometime, City Girl. I’ll wipe some of the city slicker off you.”

“With pig shit?” I teased. “Because I don’t know that I would like that.”

“What’s so funny?” Toxic asked as he and Butcher walked up.

“Nothing, I was just-” I broke off, eyes widening as I watched Lock walk down the stairs. There wasn’t time to call out a warning to the man before Murder scooted gracefully past him. She wasn’t the problem.

Barking caught the men’s attention, and they all turned to look right as Jecht slammed into the back of Lockout’s legs as he and Auron barreled past chasing my cat. “Ms. Mittens!” I called out but she disappeared down the back hallway, the dogs right on her heels.

“What the fuck!” Lock snapped, glaring at the animals as he heldonto the banister. The railing, and his fast reflexes, were the only things that had kept him from plunging headfirst down the stairs. “I swear to Christ if someone doesn’t contain those damn animals-” He broke off, and we all watched as Auron, then Jecht ran back up the stairs past him. Next was Murder, an angry yowl sounding as she went.

“I’d appreciate it if you called my daughters by their names,” Priest said from behind him.

“Not them, dickhead. The actual animals,” Lock snarled. Priest’s teasing grin didn’t improve Lockout’s mood at all.

“Why-” The question died on my lips as four giggling girls raced out of the back hallway and up the stairs after the animals.

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