Page 45 of Devil's Own: Roughneck

“I love that you’re here,” she replies, walking to the cupboard. She pulls out a thick stack of heavy-duty paper plates and a box of forks. “I had a couple of the men do a grocery store run yesterday,” she says.

“Smart.”

Nic carries the stack of plates and the box of forks in one arm while carrying a napping Tripp against her shoulder out to the bar. I follow with the first pan of food. Then, I walk back in to get the second pan and two serving spoons.

When I’m in the kitchen alone again, my phone rings. It’s a Florida number, but one I don’t recognize. I answer it immediately because it might be Rough and something had happened to his phone.

“Hello?”

“Is this Gia?” It’s definitely a man’s voice, but he’s notmyman. And why is he whispering?

“This is,” I answer very guarded.

“My name is Carter. I used to work with Sarge in our Raiders unit.” Sarge’s Raiders Unit?

Shoot.My whole body goes on alert. “Is Rough okay?”

“He’s recovering from some nasty bullet wounds, but he’s receiving the best care.”

“He was shot?” I whisper-yell.

“He’s not the only one. The men don’t want you to know.”

“How did you get my number?”

He chuckles—yes,chuckles. “I hacked his phone. It’s sort of my thing.”

HehackedRough’s phone? It’s kind ofhis thing? “I don’t…”

“It’s okay. Most people don’t get it.”

“Well, I’ve just never met a hacker—”

“Listen, the reason I called is because he won’t. They don’t want you worrying, but if life in the military, going into shit situation after shit situation, taught me anything, it’s that you don’t keep a good woman out of the loop. That shit can mess up a relationship faster than just about anything.”

“And you think I’m a good woman?” I ask.

“If the stories I’ve heard are true.”

“Did you call the other old ladies?”

“They got babies. You can handle it.”

“Because I don’t. I get it. Really, thank you for calling. I appreciate it.”

“These are good men. I don’t want to see the shit that happened to us happen to you.” He doesn’t give me the chance to say goodbye. He simply hangs up, leaving me fuming. Not at him hanging up, but that a stranger called to tell me my man is injured, not my injured man or my brother or his brothers.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get. I vibrate with it. Rough was shot multiple times and not one Horde brother cared to call. I storm out of the kitchen, rounding the bar, and stomp outside to get some fresh air to clear my head.

A couple of minutes of me fuming pass when the front door to the clubhouse opens and Dusty walks out. “Everything okay?” she asks. “I saw you storm out here and the Gee I know doesn’t storm out of anywhere.”

“She does when she gets a phone call from a stranger telling her that her man was shot multiple times.”

She jolts. “Come again?”

“A man. One of Sarge’s Raiders team called me. He told me Rough and some of the other men were injured pretty badly. They didn’t want us to know. He didn’t agree. He said he’d seen too many relationships end in the military when men kept their women out of the loop.”

“He’s not wrong.” She shoves her hair back from her face, clasping her hands on top of her head, putting her belly on prominent display. I know exactly what she’s thinking. Her husband hasn’t called and she’s pregnant with his twins. “Did he tell you where they’re at?”

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