Page 32 of Protector

A robotic musical tone began playing from the phone on the nightstand, and she turned her back on us to grab it. I let my eyes wander down her backside before remembering how much I despised her. I wouldn’t have touched her again for all the money and drugs in the world.

I had to be in a dry spell if I was getting hard looking at Betsy Sullivan. If she’d had her way, I wouldn’t have ever had Katydid. Fuck, I wouldn’t have had Celia or Dakota either. Regardless of what little time we’d had as a family, I’d take it over not having had them at all.

My cock backed down immediately, and I swiped a hand over my face, fighting to focus on the one thing we’d come up here for.

“Hello?” Betsy answered the phone like she was working a goddamn telethon, giving absolutely no indication that she’d been test-driving Comedian’s cock only moments before.

He stood in the exact same spot, glaring at the phone pressed against her ear. “Betsy,” he snapped before pointing down. “On your knees. You wanna be a fuckin’ brat, I’ll treat ya like one.”

Slim’s eyes rolled back as he shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Comedian. Give it a rest.”

“Where are you? I can be there in thirty. Cline Nature Sanctuary near Stewart Beach. Got it.” She placed the phone back on the nightstand and calmly said. “Mike’s in trouble—”

I took a couple of steps forward before catching myself. “What kind of trouble? Is he hurt?”

She shook her head and whispered, “I don’t know; he didn’t say. I just have this feeling that it’s bad, Grey. Like really bad.”

Comedian hurriedly threw on his jeans and boots, searching the sheets for his t-shirt and kutte. “Where’s my boy?”

My back teeth connected together painfully.

Slim was right. We should’ve just killed them.

Chapter Six

Grey: 2001

Slim and I sat with our bikes idling in the shadows, about a hundred yards behind Comedian’s truck. He’d jokingly said he was taking the cage because he couldn’t stash a body in his saddlebag.

I hadn’t laughed.

In fact, I’d spent most of the ride fighting off the sick feeling in my gut. First Celia. Now Mike. It was like dominoes. One had fallen, sending the others toppling onto their backs.

“I know you wanna be up there, but he don’t know you’re alive and I’m not sure now’s a good time to drop that shit on him,” Slim noted before his eyes narrowed. “Oh, fuck.”

“What? I craned my neck, struggling to see what was up ahead without drawing attention to myself. Not knowing what had happened or why Mikey needed help had me on edge and ready to snap.

Suddenly, Slim looked a little green. “I think that’s David’s truck.”

“Go. Make sure he’s alright.”

He shook his head and dropped his fist against the instrument panel. “And what? Reveal to him that his daddy’s a biker? I’m just as fuckin’ trapped as you right now.”

The three moved around to the bed of David’s truck, but we were too far back to hear what was being said. Comedian pointed toward his own before helping Mikey over to the passenger’s side. I couldn’t see the wound on his leg, but judging by the way he was limping, it appeared to be quite the injury.

After getting him situated, Comedian led David around to the driver’s side, leaving me to wonder if he was hurt or just sick over whatever had happened. The truck fired up but remained parked.

“C’mon, David,” Slim pleaded quietly. “Just fuckin’ drive off.”

Finally, the brake lights kicked on, and the truck backed up before disappearing into the night. We rode up to find Comedian leaning against the tailgate with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“What’d I say, boys? Life is good.” He dropped it to reveal the body of a kid who couldn’t have been much older than Mikey, and the ground quaked beneath my feet as my worst fears were confirmed.

Slim brought his fist up to his mouth with a shake of his head. “The fuck? Who is this?”

Comedian punched the sole of the kid’s sneaker with a chuckle, making his body jolt like a puppet on a string. “He’s dead, so I don’t guess it matters much now, does it? By the way, your boy don’t handle murder real good, Slim.” He slammed the tailgate shut and turned back, his smile suddenly gone.

“It’s funny. I spend five years tryin’ to find my wife and kid, and I could’ve just asked you.”

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