Page 39 of The Trust We Broke
I shake my head. “We don’t have the same moral compass.”
He smiles sadly at that. “I dragged Grudge through those first months, just to keep him breathing. The fight showed me just how much rage was inside him. You ruined him. And I rebuilt him. I gave him his road name; I always kept him to my left so I could keep an eye on him. I gave him a purpose when he came out of prison. And gave him the presidency because of the man he’s become. You broke him once; I’m not going to let you do it to him again.”
For all the tough talk coming out of Butcher’s mouth, I can hear the love he has for Grudge in his tone. They’re more than just brothers in a motorcycle club. There is a deeper, more meaningful bond between the two of them.
There is so much I want to say, and even though I am usually brilliant at my closing arguments, I find I can’t even string a sentence together.
“I told him that unfinished business is the kind of thing regrets are made of,” Butcher says. “And I mean that for you as much as I do for him. But he always deserved better than you gave him last time.”
That, I can’t deny. “I know that, Butcher.”
Butcher eyes me carefully, and whatever he sees there softens him. He puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’m not gonna ask you why you did it. That’s between you and Grudge. I don’t even need to ask if you regret it, because for all you’re feistiness right now, I can see in your eyes that you do. But I’ll say this: He’s just been given one of the biggest roles in the country. The president of an Iron Outlaws chapter. It’s what he’s dreamed of and aspired to. He’s got a chance to make a mark on something even bigger than he is. If there’s a piece of you that still has any kind of feelings for him at all, don’t fuck with him.”
The words, softly spoken, show Butcher’s true feelings. He’s talking to me like the man’s father rather than his former president.
“I’ll try not to. But I’m here. Back for who knows how long.”
Butcher nods. “Do your best, Lucy, yeah?”
There may even be a new understanding between the two of us. “I’m glad you took care of Greer’s dishwasher.”
Butcher’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “Her what?”
I smile at him. “Just ask her.”
10
GRUDGE
Seeing my dad is like food for my soul. He’s the man I looked up to. The man who taught me how to ride every version of a bike, from pedals to engines. While some would consider him the poster child of why you shouldn’t join a motorcycle club, I see him as a man who carved out a life for himself and his family outside the constraints of the law.
I admire what he did. A fucking Fed shouldn’t have been trying to cozy up to the club anyway. The man who died made his choice the moment he pulled on a leather jacket and started to hang around with us.
Dad stepped up for the brotherhood and did what needed to be done.
I’d like to hope I’d have the same courage, if it were required. And it’s a reminder that there are numerous Outlaws in prison. It’ll be my job to reach out to their families to see if they need anything.
The decision to swing by to see Butcher and tell him about the meeting with my father is a spontaneous one. But seeing Butcher with his hands on Lucy’s shoulders as I pull up his driveway makes my brain short-circuit.
A million thoughts rush in. Why is she here? Why is Butcher being so nice to her? To my face, he’s always been,Fuck Lucy De Bose. Apart from the one time he spoke about her as unfinished business. So, to see him, now, looking at her fondly, is a complete contradiction.
And why the fuck is she everywhere I am these days? I just dropped Mom at home after a late lunch at the diner. But the whole time I was sitting there eating a steaming plate of lasagna, my mind was on Lucy and the fear in her eyes.
The truck skids on the gravel as I brake harshly and just glare at the two of them. They turn to stare at me, and for a millisecond, I think of simply reversing, until Butcher waves me in and suggests I park on the other side of Lucy’s truck.
Why the hell didn’t I check the tracker for where she was? Because never, not in a million years, did I think she’d be at Butcher’s house.
But then…
Greer!
Fuck, she showed up last month to help Greer out when she was involved in a police investigation.
I park the truck and jump out of it. The wind immediately blows straight through me and I immediately resent nature’s sting.
“Why are you here?” I ask as soon as I near her.
“Funnily enough, I don’t have to report in to you,” she says.
