Page 47 of Deserter

Kid had a point.

I had no business going after Celia. She’d never fit in with the club. It didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun before letting her go though.

His body settled against my chest and his breathing became deep and even. I picked him up and carried him back inside, asleep on my shoulder.

He didn’t even stir as I laid him down and pulled the blankets up under his chin. Looking down at him was another punch to the dick.

My boy was being raised by a fucking monster.

A monster I’d allowed to live.

A monster that was an asset to my club.

I pressed my lips to his forehead, and he let out a soft exhale. “Sweet dreams, Mikey.”

I pulled his door closed with a soft click and turned around into Betsy. “Shit,” I hissed. “What the fuck are you doing wandering around in the dark?”

“It’s my house, Grey, and I heard you come back in. I guess he didn’t last long?”

I moved back down the stairs. “Got some shit to discuss with you. We can talk down here.”

She followed me over to the couch. “What’s wrong?”

“You told me things were getting better, Betsy. Kid nearly came out of his fuckin’ skin when I went up there, thinking it was him. Is Comedian still laying hands on him?”

“It’s gotten a lot better; I swear. I send him to Wolverine and Lucy’s when I know that Michael’s been drinking, and that helps, you know?”

I frowned. “Kid’s skin and bones. You get it checked out?”

“Grey, we’ve been over this. He’s going through a phase where he won’t eat anything but chicken McNuggets fromMcDonald’s—”

“Then get him the goddamn nuggets, Betsy! Jesus, he’ll blow away if he loses anymore weight. Promise me you’ll get him checked out. I’ve got the cash.” I reached into my wallet and pulled out a wad of hundreds.

“Stop, Grey. Look at me.”

I looked up to see that she’d unbelted her robe. “Betsy—”

“You’re in a bad mood, let me make it better. You said it yourself, Michael’s gone for two days.” Her hand moved up to cup her breast, and my cock hardened, but Celia was the only woman I wanted beneath me.

I shook my head and stood up. “I’m leaving. I came to see Mikey—that’s it. We agreed after he was born that he was the only fuckin’ thing that mattered.”

“Fuck you, Grey,” she snapped.

I clenched my jaw. “Remember who you’re talking to, Betsy.”

She jumped off the couch and stormed over. “I heard that you don’t fuck anybody anymore. Why is that, Pres? Can’t get it up?”

I wanted to strangle the life out of her. Instead, I grabbed the edges of the bathrobe and yanked her closer. “Now, you fuckin’ listen. I ain’t doing this with you. Christ, Betsy, have you ever tried thinking with something besides your cunt?”

Her nipples hardened against my chest and she licked her lips. “I’ll let you choke me… hit me. Whatever you want.”

I dropped my grip. “Fuckin’ hell, one more word out of you and I’ll ensure that your old man is back before sunrise.” Her eyes flashed with fear and I knew I had her. “Do the right thing for our son and stay the fuck away from me. The next time I won’t be lenient. We clear?”

“Perfectly.”

I just wanted to know that my son was being taken care of without all the bullshit. As I hopped back on my bike, I knew it wouldn’t be the last time that Betsy Sullivan fucked with me.

It never was.

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