Page 9 of American Hellhound
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I sucked, we all know that. But there was this kid who didn’t suck, who was up Duane’s ass all the damn time. It was creepy how much of a suck-up he was, to be honest. He had eyes on the head of the table, and everybody in the club thought he’d end up there.”
“Did anyone ever tell you,” Walsh said, “that history has a serious way of repeating itself when it comes to your family?”
Ghost flipped him the bird and kept talking. “His name was Robert, but we all called him Roman because he had this damn warrior complex. We got guys like Michael and Mercy, yeah, but they’re notambitious, not like Roman was. He was bloodthirstyandhe wanted to be the boss.”
“Dangerous combination.”
“Yeah. Anyway, he was the golden boy. Until shit went down.”
“Eloquent.”
“Shut the fuck up, English. Alright, so he proved to be…less loyal than we thought. I ran him out of town. Some people would see that as an opportunity to run very far away and not antagonize the largest outlaw MC in the world.”
“Or, someone might bide his time and seek out revenge.” Walsh tipped his head back and forth in consideration. “He killed a dog. That’s terrible, yeah, I’ll grant you that. But.” His face saidlook at the shit we do. “The question is: is this really him? Because if it is, and he’s got an axe to grind, then we need to take this threat seriously.”
“I don’t know the guy anymore. I have no idea where his head’s at.Ifit’s him.”
“Is it?”
“I’m starting to really think so.”
Walsh nodded. “I’ll call church for tonight.”
“Good.” His gut churned. His voice wavered. “Also, um, I should tell you. Before it’s out there.”
Walsh stared at him.
“Mags is…um…she’s pregnant.”
A second passed. Another. Another…
Walsh’s grin bloomed slow, but it was delighted. “Really?”
“Really.”
He laughed, one harsh bark that sounded strange to Ghost’s ears. “Congrats, old man.”
~*~
Maggie was no stranger to nausea. No one was. It was just that when she knew what the nauseameantthat it grew heavy, and important, and she felt much more in tune with her body. She felt sick, but she had a bathroom, a waste basket, and a bunch of calls to make. She saw no reason to stay home.
Also, she wasn’t surprised that Ava showed up about ten-thirty, all three kids in tow.
“Aw, baby,” she said when Ava wrestled her stroller through the office door. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“No, it’s fine.” Ava blew her hair off her face and finally managed to get the stroller – and Millie inside it – parked in front of the desk. Remy and Cal flanked her, holding on to the tail of her sweater on both sides. “I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m not the one dragging three little munchkins around – hi, sweetie!” She opened her arms as Cal came around the desk to give her a hug. The top of his little blonde head smelled like No More Tears and the scent hit her right between the ribs, made her ache to hold the baby that was still so tiny inside of her.
Ava, the little Terminator, wasn’t so easy to shake off, though. “You talked to Dad?”
Maggie hauled Cal up into her lap, his head tucked beneath her chin, and sent her daughter a stern look. “Do you really have so little faith in your father?”
Ava shrugged. “Well…”
“Your dad isfine,” Maggie said, firmly. “You forget sometimes, I think, that he isn’t a bad man.”Drug dealing notwithstanding, went unsaid. “Besides, we aren’t stupid kids this time around. If anything, we’re even better prepared.”
Ava didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and dropped down into the chair beside the stroller. Remy climbed up in the chair next to her, as somber and grown up as usual. “Any news about the…” She gestured vaguely rather than say it in front of the kids.
