Page 24 of Devil's Own: Roughneck

“He’s beautiful,” I tell them. “Just beautiful.”

Nic and my brother are pictures of pride, smiling at their boy and presumably my compliment.

“I have to talk with you, brother,” I tell him specifically. “That’s why I came up here. I mean, I came to see my boy and reconnect with you, but—”

He holds his hand up. “Whatever you’ve got to say is going to suck but won’t get cleared up yet. I can read it all over your face. My wife worked hard on this meal. Let’s eat first. I think I’ll handle heavy news better on a stomach full of her pot roast with potatoes, carrots, and pearl onions.”

“That’swhat smells so good,” I say.

“Well, it’s done if everyone wants to take a seat at the table,” Nic says. The faded, gray wood of the table reminds me of driftwood. It’s gorgeous. The seats have inset cushioning covered in that same gray but velvet rather than hardwood. Tripp’s little high chair is situated next to Daniel. After kissing the top of Tripp’s head, I secure the little guy in the seat so his daddy can feed him mashed carrots by the look of the plate. Just like I used to do with Waite, they already have his cooling on a plate. No matter how tired or hungry I was, Waite always came first. My brother helps his son bring the spoon up to his mouth. It’s one of the sweetest damn things I’ve ever seen, to tell the truth.

Then I pick a seat and Rough drops down into the one next to me. Daniel sits at the head of the table and Nic sits across from me, kitty-corner to Daniel after she brings the food to the table. I offer to help, but she shoos me away.

“You’re my guest,” she argues.

Her home, her rules. Therefore, I smile at each person and don’t say another word about it.

Knowing what I have to tell my brother and Rough, I’m glad we eat Nic’s delicious meal first because I don’t know how much of an appetite I’ll have after the fact.

She even serves us chocolate silk pie for dessert. She’s a good cook. I’m a good cook, too, so I hope Rough doesn’t mind having them over to his place for dinner as well.

Though before I get down to brass tacks, I help clean up and won’t takenofor an answer. She cooked. I can help clean up. What surprises me is the way both my brother and Rough jump in to help, too.

That done, I feel like a dead man walking as Daniel leads us back to the living room to get comfortable. I love that he doesn’t exclude his wife from this talk. Living here, being married to him, which means being part of the club, she’s involved and I’d have thought less of my brother if he’d kept her out of this. Tripp plays on his blanket on the floor.

I sit on one end of the sofa, leaning forward on my knees, take a big breath, and spill my guts. “Do you know who Jack Dunham is?” I ask and I watch as the backs of both men and Nic go ramrod straight. I guess they do know him.

“That’s the Bible Belt Killer, babe,” Rough says to me using his soft voice.

Everyone knew the Bible Belt Killer, especially if you were a woman living in the Bible Belt. We all breathed a sigh of relief when he was captured. I just never knew his name. I didn’t like hearing about him. It scared me. I really only kept up on where he struck next. Then I changed the channel. I made sure to only go to work and go straight home when he was near Florida. I even had my groceries delivered and didn’t go out to my porch to get the bags until the delivery driver had left. I left a very nice tip in the door for them, too, because who knew what set this guy off? Maybe being a cheap tipper was a sin worth your death.

“What about Jack?” my brother asks.

“I worked in a bar back home. Lot of bikers and a lot of lowlifes frequented the place. Some were one and the same.”

“You’re done with Florida,” Rough says. “We’re getting you packed up. Moving you up here as soon as possible.”

“That’s something we agree on,” my brother says.

So this is what my brother finally agrees with my new man on. At least it’s something. “Right. Well, I’d gone out back to toss a garbage bag into the dumpster when two men rounded the corner of the building. One of the men wore a cut for a club called the Death Bringers.”

Again, their backs go ramrod straight.

“They see you?” Rough snaps.

“No. I shrunk back behind the dumpster. Those Death Bringers didn’t come into the bar often, but when they did—let’s just say I avoided contact as much as possible. They scared me.”

“What did you hear?” my brother asks.

“They were working with that man Jack Dunham.”

“The fuck?” Daniel barks at the same time Rough barks, “What the hell?”

I nod. “Jack apparently fed the Death Bringers Horde secrets like where drops were going to happen. He still has people loyal to him. He still has Death Bringers loyal to him.”

My brother pulls his phone out from his front pocket and presses a contact. “You aren’t going to believe this shit, brother. Need you at the house now. Calling Dark. Get Cut and Reap up here now.” Then he hangs up.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

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