Page 89 of Bones

The words had barely left Maverick’s mouth when Bones came up behind us. He was no longer the quiet, little Wyatt who’d kept his face buried in his electronics. Now, he was six-two and built like a linebacker, and he had no problem saying whatever was on his mind. His brows furrowed as he asked Stitch, “See if who’s fucking around?”

“Nobody,” Stitch grumbled under his breath.

Bones was Stitch’s stepson, and even though they were polar opposites, the two were inseparable. It didn’t matter to either of them that they weren’t blood and had nothing in common. Stitch was his father—through and through, and they were as tight as a father and son could be. Knowing how close the two were, none of us were surprised when Bones gave him hell about being pissed. “Please tell me you aren’t still bitching about that Tucker guy.”

“That Tucker guy is...”

“An asshole,” Bones interrupted. “Yeah, I know. You’ve said it a hundred times, but that doesn’t change the fact that there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“I can cut off his balls and shove them down his fucking throat.”

“Yeah, you could do that.” Bones gave Stitch one of his looks as he replied, “But Mia would never forgive you for it, and you know you don’t want that.”

“Yeah, well, she’d get over it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Bones took a slug off his beer, then suggested, “You could always let Maverick and Q follow him around a while and see what he’s up to. For that matter, I could do a little digging of my own.”

Big was the club’s hacker, and he’d always been phenomenal at his job. He was usually the one who did the digging, but Bones had skills of his own. He was one of those guys who just knew shit—all kinds of shit, and he’d been like that since he was a kid. Some said it was the Asperger’s that made him so astute, but I’d never bought into that.

The kid was just smart.

Plain and simple.

Hell, it was the reason we’d given him the road name Bones. He had skills like no other, and if there was digging to do, we all knew he could do it without question. I wasn’t surprised when Stitch nodded and said, “Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll be interested to see what you can find out about the douchebag.”

“Me, too.”

Bones turned and was about to head out when Elsie’s head plowed into the center of his chest, causing both to stop with a jolt. Elsie stumbled back, then looked up at Bones with bright red cheeks. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry about that, Wyatt.”

“No problem.”

Bones seemed completely unfazed by their little exchange as he made his way towards the door. Elsie, on the other hand, was still sporting her blushed cheeks—which grew even redder when she realized we were all staring at her.

I gave her a playful wink, then said, “Hey there, Elsie girl. How ya making it?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“What about your classes?”

“They’re okay.” The red in her cheeks started to fade as she announced, “I ended up making an A on that big paper.”

“That’s awesome.”

It had been just over a year since the day Two Bit and I found her dumpster-diving at Danver’s Sports Grill.

We’d gone out for a bite to eat with Cotton and a couple of the other brothers. We had a round of beers and a couple of burgers, and when Clutch ordered us a second round, Two Bit and I decided to step out for a quick smoke. We’d barely lit up before we heard a strange noise coming from one of the dumpsters. Curiosity got the best of us, so we went to check it out.

That’s when we discovered a young girl bent over the side door of the dumpster, rummaging around for something to eat. As soon as she realized we’d come up behind her, she dropped whatever was in her hand and just stood there staring at us with an embarrassed expression.

The poor kid was filthy from head to toe and looked like she hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks. Doing his best not to embarrass her even more, Two Bit gave her one of his charming smiles and asked, “Hey, kid. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Two Bit motioned his head toward the dumpster. “’Cause it doesn’t look that way.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her eyes dropped to the ground with embarrassment. “I was... ah, just looking for my keys.”

“Is that right?” Two Bit and I are big guys, and we were both wearing our cuts and boots—which only made us appear more threatening, especially for a young girl like her. But surprisingly enough, she didn’t seem intimidated in the least. She stood tall and maintained eye contact as I asked, “You got a name?”

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