Page 24 of Anchor

It’s been three days since I begged her to go to couples therapy with me, and with the help of Acid, Dr. Larsa agreed to meet with us now despite being booked up.

She’s the same person Acid and Perrie go to and is fully aware of club life. Her father is Fire, the Rebels MC brother, and she’s also an old lady to Viking, who runs the fight club in Brooklyn.

And I’m late….

In my defense, I had no idea Steal was going to call an emergency fucking church, and neither did he until complaints came flooding in this morning.

“Hang in there, brother,” Acid whispers beside me, and I shake my head. I want to make things right, to bring my wife home where she belongs, which I can’t fucking do if I’m stuck here with brothers talking over each other instead of getting the job done.

“Okay!” I shout, quieting everyone, their eyes coming my way in shock. Steal smirks, also knowing what today is, and I glare his way before I command, “Pitbull, Piston, go through the cameras and see which clubwhores cleaned the brother’s rooms, and search their belongings, along with the prospects’; they are under suspicion. Acid, Cannon, get all the fucking women and prospects in the common room, give them a chance to own up to stealing shit out of the brother’s room, and if they don’t, hold them in the common room until Piston and Pitbull can find the evidence and make an example of them.”

Steal nods and looks around the table, the brothers also nodding, and I look at my prez and demand, “Bang the fucking gavel.”

He chuckles and does as I ask, and I quickly stand, knocking my chair over. Steal and Acid laugh while the brothers watch me with confusion.

Fuck, they are going to be pissed when they find out I’m a married man with a kid.

Rushing out of church, John, our new prospect, jumps in shock, and I roll my eyes, grab my phone out of the box, and run to the door.

“Anchor?” I hear my Callie shout, and I shout back, “I can’t talk; I’m running late!”

“Fuck,” I curse as I jump off my bike and run to the white building.

Fucking New York traffic sucks….

I bang into the waiting room, the receptionist jumping, and I put my hand up in apology and state, “I’m running late. Can you tell me which room is Dr. Larsa’s, please?”

The woman’s mouth hangs open, her brown eyes wide, seeing my cut. She quickly points at the first door on the right, and I storm over to it.

Taking a deep breath, I knock on the white door until I hear, “Come in," and walk in but wince, seeing the anger in my wife’s eyes.

“Anchor, I presume?” a woman asks, taking my attention, and I clear my throat.

A woman sitting on a large chair, wearing a blouse and slacks, her brown hair down, her green eyes hard, glares at me.

Fuck….

“Yeah, sorry,” I mumble and quickly sit on the brown couch next to Heaven, who looks amazing in her jeans, tank top, and flannel. “Steal called an emergency church, Angel, I’m sorry,” I say, and she looks my way with a frown.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, and I sigh, my eyes going to the therapist, who raises a brow, and I know I have to say something.

“Some things have gone missing from the brothers' rooms, including their old ladies' jewelry and clothes." Heaven's eyes widen. “We’re now looking into it, or well, Piston and Pitbull are, to see which clubwhore or prospect has been stealing.”

She nods and mumbles thoughtfully, “Maybe have them check the old ladies as well. All it takes is one scorned woman, hurt because her man can’t keep it in his pants. Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re trying to set the clubwhores up, and not all of them are bitches like Ginger.”

My mouth goes dry at her words, but I get my phone and quickly bring up Steal’s name, knowing she’s most likely right.

Five brothers, despite having old ladies, still screw the clubwhores. I’m just lucky my wife never had an urge for revenge; she just cut me off emotionally.

“Brother, shouldn’t you be in therapy right now?” he answers, and Heaven snorts, hearing him.

“He is, but he was twenty minutes late,” she says loudly so he can hear, making him laugh and I half smile, loving that they have such a good bond.

“What’s going on, brother? Do you need my kidnapping expertise?” Steal asks, and Heaven narrows her eyes while our therapist tries not to laugh.

It’s no secret what Steal did with Cassidy, especially with the Rebels MC. Cassidy, being the amazing doctor she is, fixes up the fighters at The Fight.

“Uh, no, thanks. Heaven said something. Check the old ladies in the cameras,” I say.

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