Page 16 of Wiley A.F.

Normally, I tried not to be as big of a dick, especially to my brothers, but Sleeper had to be shutdown just as much as the woman at this point. What Sleeper tended to forget was we were kidnapping a woman in the middle of Cleveland, Ohio in broad fucking day light. If she hadn’t caught enough unwanted attention by screaming at me, Sleeper going on about shit that didn’t need to be broadcasted to the public ear was bound to do so. He was still a fairly new brother in the grand scheme of things, but this shit was not about to fly. The only people privy to Bastard business was the RBMC, and even though he wasn’t aware this was ours, it was.

“The hell you will—”

“I didn’t fucking stutter,” I barked, getting out of the backseat and rounded the car to the driver’s side. The keys were in the ignition, at least that was one small thing to be thankful this woman had done right.

“Suit yourself. If she cuts your balls off and shoves them into your eye sockets or something equally as fucked, that’s on you.” We both knew what he was referring to—Ghoul’s old lady, Ginger, had a few of the brothers on edge after she rammed a screwdriver in a man’s eye. Fuckstick had it coming and then some, but it still had a few of the brothers uncomfortable when she was around. It didn’t help her case that she was Russian. Somehow, in Sleeper’s mind, all Russian women were lethal now, and there would be no budging him on that fact. If I hadn’t seen as much fucked up shit as I had, I would probably agree with him. I didn’t fault Ginger for what she’d done, shit, we did a hell of a lot worse to the man after she was transported to the hospital, to be honest. Who were we to judge her simply because she was a woman? I for one didn’t let that shit fly. If I was going to pass judgment upon someone, it was because of their actions, not their gender or race.

“Let the good times roll.” I half-heartedly laughed, starting the car. Very few members of the Royal Bastards MC knew anything about my past, and those who did, didn’t know much at all. If this woman even sneezed the wrong damn way, and it tangled her up with the shit, then she was better off dead than going home with me. I needed to keep her as far away from the club as humanly possible until I found out. Sleeper was on the right track about her not being trustworthy, but I was able to guarantee it had nothing to do with the Russians.

“Sleep?”

“Yeah, man?” he glanced over his arm.

“Can we keep this between us for now? I know what I’m asking, but you know how I feel about finding the truth before condemning someone.”

“I do. Yeah, what the fuck ever, man, but I’m telling you she looks like a fucking Natasha. You better find out the truth before Boris comes to hunt our moose and squirrel ass.”

“RockyandBullwinkle?”

“Hypothetically you know what I mean. Mark my words, man. She’ll be the downfall of our club. I’m not going down with her, and I’ll be damned if I am going to stand around and let my brother go to hell for a piece of ass.”

I smirked and nodded. “Thanks, brother. I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll get answers sooner rather than later.” This situation would be incredibly easier if he knew the truth about what was going on right now—then again, it he would probably be more confused because I had a big part of the puzzle and still didn’t know the reason she was here.

My mind raced as I stepped on the gas and hightailed it out of town. I tapped my fingers along the leather steering wheel, trying to remain unreadable. If Sleeper thought for one second that any of us were at risk, he’d try to jab one of his doses into me and deal with the collateral later on—it was what any of us would do, though. When you were in a brotherhood, your club always came before your own needs. Although putting others before myself was something naturally engraved in my body at a young age—especially my brother.

“Greyson. Garrett. It’s breakfast time. Come on now. Don’t make me come in there and get you boys.” Our mom yelled from the kitchen of our single wide trailer. She’d done the best she could to provide for us. Sometimes being a single parent was more obvious around our household than others. Thankfully, this morning was not one of those times. Going to bed hungry was few and far between, but when there wasn’t enough to go around, I lied and said I wasn’t hungry. I wanted to make sure Mom and Garrett got to eat.

Grabbing my favorite book while I enjoyed whatever Mom had prepared for us to eat, I uncrossed my legs, and hopped off my bed. I bolted toward the door and just as my fingers reached for the knob, my brother cleared his throat. “Grey, you don’t want to go in there.”

“But Mom just said—”

“You’re a momma’s boy,” he interrupted me.

“Am not. I’m just hungry is all.” We both knew it was a lie. Out of the two of us, I had always favored Mom more than my twin brother. Garrett was always more interested in who or what was coming in and out of our house. The only reason I was able to guess was Mom tended to be a little harder on Garrett than she was me, but she had to be. He didn’t like rules and always went against authority when given the chance. Just like right now, he had to be just as hungry as I was.

“No, you’re mommy’s little bith is all.”

“You mean a bitch?” I felt like a prick as soon as I corrected him.

“Yeah. That’s what I said, jerk.” The hurt in his voice was clear, and his blue eyes shot away from my face, focusing on the door. Sometimes being the older brother, even if it was only by a few minutes, was a lot of work.

“I know you did, but I’m trying to help you so the guys will leave you alone, and I can quit fighting with them.” I didn’t give two craps about the people in this town, because honestly, it was hard to tell how long we would be here. Probably not very long at all, we never stayed in one place very long at all. I truthfully had quit counting how many times we had moved a year or so back because it made me sad. Garrett on the other hand always tried to make friends in each new place. Sometimes it worked, other times, like this town, it didn’t.

“I can’t help it if I have a lisp.”

“I know that, and you know that, but they don’t give a shit. The only people who care about us lives in this house, man.”

“Mom doesn’t care about me. I’m the carbon copy that wasn’t supposed to happen. The freak.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, man. She loves both of us the same, she only harder on you because you are harder on her. If you cut your crap out, she wouldn’t have to yell at you.”

“Mom. Does. Not. Care. Man. You’ll see one day. The only reason she keeps us around is to make herself feel better and have purpose.”

“Whatever, man,” I waved him off, ignoring his warning. I prayed that the day he said would come never did, but he would have his own a day of understanding. He was right in the sense Mom wasn’t the best parent a kid could have, but she wasn’t the worst either. What he didn’t know was what she and I went through to get away from Dad and I hoped he never would.

Garrett resented Mom for the very reason I loved and showed her respect. In his eyes, she’d ripped us from a happy home and from Dad, who took him fishing and showered him with gifts. What Garrett never saw was the abuse Mom and I took, so he didn’t have to feel one ounce of the pain.

“You need to cut her some slack,” I warned him while my irritation grew by the second. Mom and I made a pact to never tell Garrett, but on days like today, when he was being a shit, it was hard to keep my mouth shut.

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