Page 25 of Tied to You
“Nothing,” Dean says, taking him in an embrace. It’s nice to see Rocco smiling again. Man’s made of iron, but Dean means a lot to him, and that speaks fucking volumes. He hasn’t got anyone else.
“What time you both back here?”
“Won’t be long. A couple of hours, tops?” Dean says.
Rocco nods his head. “And you?” he asks me.
“Fuck knows, Prez. Mick’s got the new girl working. I might be needed there all day.”
Dean scoffs.
“Something in your fucking throat? Here, let me clear it for you.” I step to him, my hands trained on his neck.
He bats my hands away, laughing.
“What’s he talking about?” Rocco asks, his voice stern.
“Fucking, nothing. That’s what.”
With a cough, Dean drops the stupid smirk smearing across his newly tanned skin. “Yeah, nothing. Private joke.”
“Well, I need you back here later. And there’s this weekend. Not sure how that’s going to pan out. Will need both of you on top form. If we can pull it off with just the two of you, the better that will be for everyone.”
Dean and I exchange a look. We hadn’t forgotten. How could we. But we had planned on buying a new van for the painting and decorating business we’re going to start. It’s something we spoke about before he left when he was thirteen. I had no reason to give it another thought while he was in Australia, but after what happened to his aunt, he’s home for good now, and it’s time to make it happen.
We will get it off the ground, regardless of what’s happening with the club. Legal money coming in is just fucking sensible.
“See you later.”
Dean and I nod in unison before Rocco walks away, seemingly happy with our response.
We make it outside and mount our bikes. Rocco bought Dean his one whilst he was in Oz. Says it wasn’t much, but I know he spent a fucking fortune on it.
Side by side, we ride to Mick’s farm, managing to dock our bikes away from all the shit and mud lying on the ground. We walk around the barn and head to where we hear a commotion.
“Hold her steady,” Mick shouts at Mollie, as she desperately tries to hold one of the horses still. “Woah girl, easy, easy,” he soothes.
Blackjack is at least twenty hands and about to have a foal. Bloody thing scares the shit out of even me, and I’m fucking tall.
“Need a hand?”
Mick looks up when Dean asks, and I see Mollie’s eyes look to him before they find mine. She gives me no more than a second of contact before she goes back to trying to steady Blackjack.
“Is it that obvious?” Mick replies sarcastically, pushing the horse’s rearend away from him.
“Nice to see you too, Mick,” Dean says to him, stepping closer to help.
I keep my distance from Blackjack and the brunette who’s refusing to look at me.
“Fetch me the syringe,” Mick instructs.
I look around, realising he’s talking to me. With a quick-step, I get to his box, opening it up and finding what he’s looking for. I walk to Mick, holding it out for him.
“You’ll have to do it, boy.”
The three of them struggle, and I tentatively take a step closer, not fancying having my foot broken today.
“Hurry up!” Dean shouts.
