Page 74 of Devil's Own: Roughneck

I stand, stretch, and head to the restroom. “That is some good shepherd’s pie,” I tell Old Man as I pass him. He nods once. Right as I reach the restroom, his wife grabs my arm, pulling me out a back door.

“My name is Jonesie. Dane’s my husband. He texted me 911. You in trouble?”

“Yes,” I answer.

“With the Horde or just him?”

“Just him. My brother is the president, Daniel—erm—Vlad. Everyone calls him Vlad. They call my old man Roughneck.”

“Then let’s go.” She taps out a quick text from the phone in her hand. “I guarantee your president is on his way.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to your husband.”

“Dane sent out an alert while you were eating. Each man in that bar is packing, and we’ve got backup on the way. He won’t get hurt. But I’m supposed to get you away.”

“Where are your boys?”

“Youarea mom, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I have a son.”

“They’re at the motel. C’mon.”

Wait—motel? How’d she get them to the motel? My face speaks for my confusion as she answers, “Dane’s best friend owns the motel. His wife has been waiting back here for the boys. She slipped them out the back the moment we were out of view in the hallway. Now, come on. Wehave to go.”

As I’m sure my five minutes are close to being up, I follow her out the backdoor of the bar off Old Man’s office, down a couple of doors to the back of the one motel in town, where a pretty blonde woman and a big, brawny man, usher me inside one of the rooms.

“I’m Drake. This is my wife, Brandi. You’ll be safe here.”

I want to believe him, but when the rumble of Harley engines reaches the town, I second-guess the veracity of his words for a moment. But then I notice the boys lying on one of the beds, their drooping eyes telling me they feel safe enough to fall asleep here. Jonesie sits on the edge of the second bed.

“Takin’ Old Man’s back,” Drake says before kissing Brandi and heading out the door. She locks it behind him before dropping down on the mattress next to Jonesie.

“What’s happening?” I ask—because how did they have time to arrange all this without Horace or me catching on? This smells of high-level, military-grade-mission shit.

“Thunder Gods,” Jonesie answers. “Friends of the Horde. Dane’s been in contact with your president. He called them in. They’re supposed to keep your man in place until the club gets here.”

“He’snotmy man. I was kidnapped from my house. My man’s name is Roughneck.”

“Damn,” Brandi says. “I know Roughneck. I'd have hit that years ago if I weren’t so in love with my big lug of a husband.”

“We’re getting married,” I say stupidly as I show off my ring. “He’s the love of my life.”

Both women swoon over my giant, pink sapphire, but then Jonesie’s face becomes softly serious, if that makes any sense. “It might feel anticlimactic,” she says, “but if we just wait it out here, we’ll have you back with your man in no time.”

It’s not long before yelling comes from the bar. We’re close, and it’sloud. Then there’s a gunshot. I run to the window, wanting to run out the door, but I’m not that stupid.

After a few more hours, someone pounds on the door to the room.

“It’s Roughneck. Gee, you in there?”

That’s his voice, all right. “I’m in here, babe.” I run to open the door and throw myself into his arms so quickly that it takes him off guard, forcing him to take a step back, but he holds me, and that’s the most important part.

When his lips meet mine, I’m lost, swept away by all the feelings he so openly gives me with the kiss. I love this man. When he tears his mouth away, he stares down at me. “Stay here. Got some shit to take care of, then I’ll come get you.”

“My son?” I ask, needing to know now. I’ve kept myself from thinking about him to not drive myself crazy, but now Ihaveto know.

“Recovering. He’ll be fine.”

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