Page 115 of The Wild Charge

“But I’m not sure you’d appreciate it, so we’ll do it your way. You’re right: everybody’s afraid of something. The only thing that scares me is the thought of something happening to my family. I’m guessing that’s the same thing you’re afraid of.”

Tenny made a derisive sound and flicked the butt of his cigarette away across the pavement. “Fuck that pack of idiots.”

“I’m not talking about them.”

Tenny’s gaze slid over, a bright flare of suspicion in the dimness.

“It’s Reese, right? He’s the person you care most about.” Mercy said it as gently as possible, encouragingly, even, but still saw the quick flex of Tenny’s jaw. The poor kid was still sonewto this, to loving someone, and so nervous about being challenged on that; on looking weak, or vulnerable, or any number of things. Mercy himself couldn’t relate – he loved big and didn’t ever regret it – but he’d seen that self-consciousness in a few of his club brothers. He suspected that Tenny bluffed a lot, that he was actually starting to like his biological brothers – but knew all too well that, relation or not, love or not, there was always going to be thatone person, the one who mattered more than anyone or anything.

“Reese is your family,” Mercy continued. “What’s happening with him, his past coming back to haunt him, that scares you. Right?”

Tenny looked off across the lot, silent.

“That’s not an accusation, by the way,” Mercy said. He shook out a fresh cigarette for himself, and offered one to Tenny, surprised when he took it. They went through the sharing of the lighter, again, and Mercy said, “Between Ghost, and Fox, and Walsh, I figure you’re getting lots of boss man, big brother wisdom and lectures thrown at you left and right. Fox likes to think he’s too cool for school, but he’s honestly pretty uptight.”

Tenny snorted, and then coughed smoke, surprised, a grin tweaking his lips.

“I’m not about all that. I just wanted to say, if you guys head up to New York, you gotta listen to Fox, yeah, and do your Dog due diligence, sure. But it’s okay to have a priority. To worry about your family.”

Tenny’s head snapped around, gaze narrow, smoke curling up from parted lips.

“I think it’s a good idea to get Reese out of town. Seeing Hunter again’s messing with his head. You look out for him.” He laid a hand on Tenny’s shoulder, half-expecting to have it brushed away; but Tenny held statue-still, quivering faintly under Mercy’s palm. “And let me handle Hunter. I'll put that fucker in the ground.”

He grinned.

After a long, slow beat, Tenny did, too.

Thirty-One

Ghost was in his office drinking whiskey, no coffee. Maggie was with him, seated in the cozy leather chair in the corner, legs drawn up beneath her, their youngest – Fox thought his name was Asher, but hadn’t ever bothered to ask directly – asleep in her lap, a miniature Ghost; plus rosy, fat baby cheeks, minus the whiskey. She looked tired, temple propped on her fist, eyes at half-mast. She didn’t move, but her eyes snapped open and fixed on the door as Fox entered, as calculating and ready for action as her husband was, until she recognized him and relaxed again.

Fox had overheard some of the London boys call Eden cold before, but Maggie was a little bit terrifying. Eden wore her coldness outwardly, brisk and efficient, and softened in private. Maggie was all home-cooking andhey y’all, but get on her bad side, and the claws came out, cloaked in Southern cotillion manners.

Ghost set his tumbler down with a decisive thump. “I think it’s a good idea for y’all to go,” he said, before Fox could plead his case in person. They’d spoken on the phone, briefly, back on the boat, and Ghost had saidgimme ten to think about it. Now, rough-edged and stressed, he looked like a man who’d come to a hard decision. “I like the idea of you and the boys being here, in case we need you – but I was gonna send you to New York in the long run anyway. I think that’s where this is all heading. They want us here, now, trapped in our hometown, worrying about home problems. Time to take the fight to them. Plus, it’d be good to get Reese away from Hunter.”

“Won’t he just follow them?” Maggie asked. Fox had forgotten she was there. If he’d ever harbored any doubts that Maggie was privy to every bit of club business, this moment blasted them apart.

“Depends on what his masters want,” Ghost said. He sighed and picked his glass up again. “I dunno. Just…be careful. Check in. You know the drill.”

He was pinching the bridge of his nose when Fox walked out.

The clubhouse had quieted, and been mostly put to rights after the raid, minus the furniture that had been tossed out. Doubtless Maggie had already ordered new, or made plans to. People still milled about, talking in low voices, chasing the day’s worries away with drinks. As he moved down the dorm hallway, he heard muffled conversations coming from the other sides of doors. He opened the door to his own dorm, and paused on the threshold.

A blanket had been thrown over the slit-open mattress, and Eden lay atop it, fully dressed, boots and all, lying on her side, face pillowed on her folded hands. Peacefully asleep. A black duffel waited on the floor at the foot of the bed.

She wasn’t a sleeper by nature. She woke up early, and stayed up late, fueled by endless cups of tea and a determined work ethic. He didn’t realize, until he saw her now, that he’d expected to find her at the bar or in the kitchen, tea and a notebook, laptop screen lighting her face up blue.

The pregnancy was mucking about with her usual schedule, though. Making her tired. Making her sick.

The thought hit Fox like a gut punch: he hadn’t thought about his impending fatherhood at all today. How very Devin of him.

He eased the door to silently, and moved toward his dresser. Someone, probably Eden, had set the drawers to rights. There’d been nothing to find here save boxers, socks, and clothes, which he began stacking now on top of his dresser; he carried all his weapons in his bike’s saddlebags, save the many he wore concealed on his person at all times.

He tried to be quiet, but a rustle and a murmur behind him proved he’d awakened Eden.

“Christ,” she muttered, voice dragging with exhaustion. “You’re back? What time is it?”

“After eleven. Go back to sleep if you’re tired.”

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