Page 65 of O'Mega's Revenge
“Women are tougher than men. Face it.”
I gave him a side-eye, waiting for him to follow up with something stupid.
“Your girl was missing what, four years?”
“Five. Tortured. Watched her mom die.”
“Jesus. See? Tougher. You or I, shit, we would have caved month one.”
“Maybe you,” I teased.
“Did Jackson really break an invalid’s arms?” He kept his voice low. Admiration crept into his tone despite that.
“You didn’t think he had it in him?”
“Jackson? Hell no. He always struck me as the guy who doesn’t do his own dirty work. Finding out he does, well…” Ice tipped his head in begrudging admiration.
“Nonno’s off his ass, at least.”
“Yeah, that was a fucking miracle. Life’s going to get a bit more complicated when he takes over.”
I heard voices in the hall and lifted my head to try to see out the door. Ice went a step further and checked. “Aw fuck, it’s those bitches from the MC. Later, dude.”
“Hey, don’t leave me alone with them.” I called out to his retreating back, but he disappeared faster than you can say, “ghillie suit.”
Sure as shit, Missile led the brigade.
I closed my eyes and waited for the worst.
The buzz of clippers made me peek one eye open. “Don’t.”
“Just a trim. You’re getting scraggly.”
“Touch my hair, and I swear to god I’m gonna— ”
“Oh, hey, Tits.” Quick sounded the alarm so the girls could hide their torture devices.
My girl grabbed the clippers from Missile. “No more M’s in the scalp.”
“But it’s growing out.”
“I mean it. I’m sick of seeing your brand.”
“It ain’t my brand. Your name starts with an M, duh. I can’t help it if Missile also starts with M.”
It was almost worth putting up with Missile’s shit to see my girl freeze in freakout mode like that. But she recovered quickly. “He’s growing it out.”
Long, short, I’d wear it any way Tits wanted. As long as she stayed at my side.
It was the one bright spot that pushed away all the rest of the bad shit.
My position as VP or even a spot as an active member of the Destroyers was in question and at least on hold until I could adapt to my prosthetic. My foot and part of my shin were gone. I was facing at least one more surgery that would decide whether I had a knee left when things were all said and done, and I was sick and tired of staring at hospital walls. I wanted that sex Ice hinted about. The tingles that preceded a panic attack started to work their way back in.
Without thinking, I captured Meghan’s pinky and wrapped mine around it, finding balance through touching her. Maybe she was my focus point? I never panicked if she was around. Somehow all her certainty and softness leaked out and washed all the fear away. It was when she was gone that my mind began to whisper lies into my brain. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
She gave me a little frown that didn’t last. The love there pushed it into a happy smile. “Always.” The finger around mine tightened, and I knew she was referencing so much more than just her pushy road sisters.
“Doc says four weeks if the stump doesn’t swell.” Missile popped a bright pink bubble as she talked and chewed.
