Page 34 of Protector

“Leave that to me. Really appreciate you doin’ this for my boy. I know he ain’t a patch—”

He wasn’t.

It wasn’t a life I’d ever wanted for him, but this changed things. Wolverine had seen what I was the night I sent Donald to the Reaper; he’d known that I needed to be controlled.

Same as Mikey.

I came back to the conversation as Comedian threw in, “If we get inside the club, should be a way to wipe the surveillance.”

“No.”

He cocked his head to the side and glared at me with cold eyes. “No? The fuck you suggest we do then? We have to destroy those tapes. You wanna call Torch in to burn the place to the ground? What’s your plan?”

I’d lost Celia and the girls because I hadn’t held on tight enough. Mikey would either end up dead or in prison if I didn’t hold on with both hands.

The poison that flowed through my veins ran through his. I’d created the monster, and it was my responsibility to keep it in chains.

I wasn’t willing to lose another person I loved.

God help me, I knew what I had to do.

“You work on gettin’ that boat. I’ll take care of the tapes.”

His lips pulled back as if he was about to question my orders when Chop’s crew pulled up.

“Right on time,” Slim said, by way of greeting, as he ended a call. “You know the arrangement. Nothing left that can be traced back to us.”

Comedian snagged one of the prospect’s bikes, kicking up stray rocks on his way out. Slim was still deep in conversation with Chop’s crew over by the kid’s vehicle and didn’t notice me digging in my saddlebag.

I climbed into the bed of the truck, taking advantage of their momentary distraction. The shutter on the camera clicked, bringing with it a sense of peace.

This wasn’t about getting him into a kutte.

Just like Wolverine, I wouldn’t force this life on anybody. Still, it didn’t mean I wouldn’t do for him what the club had done for me.

Once upon a time, I’d vowed to keep him safe. Now, more than ever before, Mikey needed me to uphold my end. Whatever the cost, we’d face his demons and find a way to control them.

Together.

Chapter Seven

Grey: 2001

“Told him I’d vouch for him and everything,” Comedian slurred before falling back against the couch cushions. “With the two of us, club can’t lose.”

I stayed silent and knocked the bottle of tequila back, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat. We’d been laying low just outside of Lajitas—in a clubhouse that straddled the border. After dumping the kid’s remains out in the ocean, we rode out, just as the feds moved in and began combing every grain of sand on the beaches.

I’d planned to go back once shit died down and tell Mikey the truth.

About all of it.

Unfortunately, Comedian had gotten there first. His offer to wipe the surveillance tapes that night hadn’t been some half-assed attempt at being a good father.

It was leverage.

I should’ve known that he was up to something when he secured a boat in record time and insisted again on being the one to erase the footage. I agreed because, by that time, the shock had set in. My only thought was on how to protect Mikey moving forward.

The pictures were meant to be a way to keep him in check, a visual reminder of what could happen if the monster was unleashed on the wrong people.

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