Page 94 of The Trust We Broke
I have zero intention of paying my father’s debts. I’ll go public with all of it before I let them get their claws into me. But I want to move back here permanently, and I’m not sure if the Rebels will let me.
Grudge has been quiet since we got in the truck, but it’s painful trying to give him the space to think when we’re in such closed quarters. I want to pepper him with questions.
Who were those men to him?
What is their history?
What do we do now?
Grudge reaches across the console and puts his hand on my thigh, squeezing firmly. “You okay over there?”
“Just thinking.” I don’t tell him how ill I feel. It will only make him feel worse, and I’m sure he has other things he needs to focus on right now, rather than worrying how I’m doing.
He glances over to me as we pull into the clubhouse lot. “Don’t let what just happened ruin everything that came before. I just got you back, Luce.”
I put my hand over his fingertips, trying to avoid knuckles that are temporarily bandaged with strips that Atom tore from a clean T-shirt that was in Zach’s gym bag.
“It would be impossible to. But I think we need to build ground rules.”
Grudge parks his truck next to what looks like a large, decommissioned ambulance. “What kind of rules?”
“We resolve this, the two of us. Whatever happens. I want us to be in this together, and I can’t do that if you shut down and start to talk about church and club business, like it’s a part of your life I’m not involved in.”
Grudge smiles at me and lets his thumb trail along my cheekbone. “What do you know about church and club business?”
I shrug. “Okay, so maybe I watched one too many episodes ofSons of Anarchy. But I’ve got a great brain. I can help dance the law. I know, last time, it was my fault we weren’t in it together, but this time…it needs to be the two of us. I’m going to investigate what my father’s been hiding. There was more information about my father’s dealings I’m trying to understand. And I know you aren’t going to let sleeping dogs lie. Something happened when the club was raided. How Catfish was arrested. Maybe it was just the FBI. Maybe it was local law enforcement watching more than you know. Maybe you’ve got a mole…an informant. Maybe a Rebel has taken a plea deal to give intel on the Outlaws. Any of those things could be true, and you can only brawn your way through so many of them before we’ll need intelligence rather than size.”
He slides a hand around the back of my neck. “Agreed.” He brushes his lips along mine. “But first, we get our wounds seen to. Once you’re stitched, I’ll let you go as Nancy Drew as you want.”
His eyes track over the cut on my temple. He wanted me to push his T-shirt against it. But it’s so sore and tender, I couldn’t face having anything on it. “At this point, I’m sure I look like an extra from a horror movie.”
“Seeing you get hurt is the nightmare. Nothing could ever make you less beautiful, though, Bug.”
The gentlest touch of his lips to mine is enough to set off fireworks in my tummy.
Butcher hammers on the window. “You two really hurt, or you just gonna make out in there all day?”
Grudge winks at me, then turns to face Butcher. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of my way so I can open the fucking door.”
“What happened to the window?” Butcher asks when Grudge steps outside.
I don’t hear the answer.
“Hey, wait.” Grudge hurries over to my side as I jump down. “You could have a concussion.”
“Another?” I ask. “Doesn’t one roll over into the next?”
“Luce!”
“I didn’t hit my head that hard,” I say. “Plus, you’re the one who got knocked down by a pistol.”
“Let Greer take a look,” Butcher says. “At both of you.”
When I get to the back of the ambulance, Grudge picks me up to put me inside, but I see the way he winces.
“You should be seen first,” I say. “Your injuries are worse.”
Greer shakes her head. “I’ll decide.” She peers at the gash on my head, right up by my hairline. “I think yours might be bleeding like a fountain just because of where the injury is. It needs stitches, but it’s probably not as severe as it looks.” She turns to face Grudge. “Let me see yours.”
