Page 13 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

BRAM

Mimi had changed.

Since the incident where I’d almost died, she’d turned into someone that I didn’t want to know anymore, let alone be around almost twenty-four seven.

The more she pushed, the more that I pulled.

Which led us to now.

I’d thought about signing up for the military out of desperation to put some distance between Mimi and me. I only had a semester and a half until graduation, but I could use it to enter the military, but honestly, my degree could take me to any body of water around the world.

Just the threat of the military caused her to be even more scared.

“You can’t go!” she screeched. “You can’t leave!”

Mimi had been the love of my life since I was fourteen.

I’d always thought that we would be forever.

But she’d turned into this nervous mess. One that I didn’t even recognize.

I mean, I knew that she was scared.

But hell, she hadn’t been the one to be tortured and nearly killed. I had.

And I damn well would go to the sentencing if I wanted to.

“I’m going,” I told her, tone final.

I needed to go.

I needed to see where this went.

It’d been six months since the day I’d been rescued, and today was finally the day. The day we would all find out what Amon Wheeler had in store for him.

If my vote was to be counted, it would be the electric chair.

“You can’t be serious,” Mimi said. “You’re going to his sentencing? Why?”

“Because I want to know how it goes.” I barely refrained from adding ‘duh’ to the end of my explanation.

But Jesus. She was really not putting any effort into her thinking nowadays.

She was just ‘doom and gloom’ everywhere we went.

And it was getting exhausting.

I’d had to testify via webcam at the trial a week and a half ago to tell the jury my side of the story. And there Amon had sat, smug in the thought that he would get off easy.

By easy, I meant pleading of insanity and getting sentenced to a psychiatric facility he would never leave again.

“This is insane,” she said. “You can’t go.”

I pulled away from Mimi where she had my shirt in a death grip, then pulled away and hoped that by the time I got back, she got a few of her ducks in a row.

My guess? She wouldn’t.

And tomorrow, after this was all over, I would have to decide how to handle this. How to deal with her overprotectiveness that was bordering on suffocation.

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