Page 23 of Preacher

“Hmm.” This woman was full of surprises. “So, you think she’s clean?”

“She’s careful.” His eyes locked on mine. “And careful people usually got a reason to be.”

“So, what are you thinking?” Seven interjected. “Are we going to partner with these guys or what?”

“I have questions that need to be answered before I can make a final call. We still don’t know what they want from us or what we’ll get in return.”

“Sounded like they want us to clean up their fucking mess, and after the glimpse we got last night, I’m thinking that’s gonna be a hell of an undertaking.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. We won’t know until we get some answers.”

Seven leaned forward as he asked, “When are you going to talk to him again?”

“I’ll set something up for later today or first thing tomorrow.”

“We going to play it like we did the last meet?”

I looked over to Creed as I answered, “No need in the whole brigade. We’ll be fine with just Grim and Seven.”

“Sounds good to me. Just let me know when and where.”

I nodded, then pushed my chair back from the table. “No sense keeping you boys any longer. We’ll talk more when we actually know what we’re dealing with.”

They each nodded, and chairs scraped against the floor as the guys started to disperse. Low chuckles and familiar banter filled the air as they made their way toward the door. Memphis was about to walk out the door when I called, “Hey, Memphis.”

“Yeah?”

I motioned for him to come over, and as he started to make his way over, I took the moment to take him in. My boy. My son. My legacy. He had grown into a hell of a man. He was someone I would not only trust with my life but also with my club, and I was damn proud to call him mine.

Our journey had not been an easy one. Not by a long shot.

It was hard to picture the boy he used to be—the one I used to pick up and drop off every other weekend. Week after week, I tried to pretend that I didn’t know that all the back and forth was tearing him in two. I knew it. Kay knew it, too. But we were too damn stubborn to do anything about it.

He was just a kid, caught between two people who once loved each other but couldn’t make it work. I told myself we were doing the best we could, but deep down, I knew we could’ve done better, and we should’ve.

I could still remember the way he’d cling to Kay’s side when I came to get him. His little hands would grip hers like he wasn’t sure he should let go. We’d spend a great weekend together, and when I took him back, he’d watch me like he was afraid I wouldn’t come back.

I should’ve known what I was doing to him.

I should’ve done better—for him and his mother.

Hell, the guilt of it all never really left me. Probably never would.

But he made out alright. He came to live with me when he turned sixteen and started prospecting as soon as he turned twenty-one. He was working his way up the ranks when the wreck happened.

That phone call nearly took me to my knees.

There’s nothing worse than hearing that your kid has been in an accident. But hearing that my son had laid out on the road, broken and bruised, for the better part of the night gutted me. It was tough seeing him laid up in that hospital bed. It was even worse seeing his spirit hanging by a thread. But he pulled through. He fought like hell to get back on his feet, and he had Antonia by his side every step of the way.

I wasn’t blind to what she did for him.

None of us were.

We all knew she was his anchor when the weight of it all threatened to pull him under. And now, she was more than just the woman who helped him heal. She was his ol’ lady.

Once he made his way over, I gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder and asked, “You good?”

“Can’t complain.” He gave me one of his looks as he asked, “What about you? Have you recovered from last night?”

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