Page 61 of Preacher

Tabitha must’ve thought the same because she didn’t move. She just sat there, holding my hand, and after a while, she looked up at me with a soft smile. “Tell me something about the club… something good.”

“That narrows it down,” I scoffed.

“Come on.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “I know there has to be something, otherwise you wouldn’t love it the way you do.”

I leaned my head back against the wooden beam behind us. “You ever tried running a crew of grown-ass men who think they know everything?”

“I raised three boys. Does that count?”

She cocked that sexy eyebrow, and it was all I could do to keep myself from pulling her into my lap and kissing her, long and hard, but that wasn’t going to happen. I knew how incredible her body and her lips felt against mine—how she tasted—so if I got too close and physically touched or kissed her, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

I couldn’t let that happen. Not tonight.

Tonight was about her and making sure she was good, so I gave her a nod and answered, “Absolutely.”

“Surely they aren’t that bad.”

“Oh, but they are,” I scoffed. “I swear, being president of Satan’s Fury is less about keeping us in the black and out of harm’s way and more about keeping a pack of bullheaded troublemakers from burning the whole damn world down.”

Tabitha lifted a brow. “That bad?”

“Worse than a bunch of toddlers,” I said, shaking my head. “They’re all good men and sharp as hell, but they tend to be magnets for bad decisions. Hell, they could start a fight in an empty room, and God forbid they go a day without some kind of fuck up.”

Tabitha laughed, and damn if it wasn’t the sweetest sound.

“But they’re loyal,” I went on. “To the club. To me. To each other. And when shit goes sideways, they’re the first ones in the fire. I give ‘em hell for being reckless, but there isn’t a man among them I wouldn’t bleed for.”

“Sounds like you have yourself quite a family.”

I nodded. “I certainly do.”

We kept talking about the club and old stories, and she got tickled when I told her about the time Rusty got locked in a gas station bathroom for two hours because he was too damn drunk to figure out the push door. For the first time that night, she relaxed—really relaxed. She let herself laugh and let go of her worries.

And then my burner buzzed.

I pulled it from my pocket, and even before I looked down at the screen, my stomach had twisted into a knot. I knew it wouldn’t be good. It was late, and the boys never reached out unless something was up.

The message on the screen was short and to the point.

Goose:

NeedyouattheVault.Now.

“Dammit,”I cursed under my breath as I pulled myself to my feet. “I’ve gotta go.”

Tabitha stood as she asked, “Is everything okay?”

“The boys need me at the Vault.”

Her lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t ask why or demand I stay. She simply asked, “Do you want me to ride along?”

“Probably best that you don’t.” I glanced over at Faith as I said, “I don’t wanna leave you here alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she answered with a smile. “I’ve got her, and she’s got me. Go. Handle your business.”

I hesitated, torn between her and whatever bullshit was waiting for me back in town. But she wasn’t shoving me away. She trustedme to go.

I reached over and cupped her face. Just for a second. Just long enough to feel the warmth of her skin against my palm. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

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