Page 39 of My Three S**y Bikers

“Which one you fucks killed my mother?” He waved around a gun. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair wasn’t up. He wasn’t wearing black—he even wasn’t wearing a shirt.

“It was you, Greyson, wasn’t it!” He sprinted up to my brother, who stood his ground.

“Steel! You’ve done lost your mind!” Randy rushed in, trying to calm down his lover, but clearly, Steel wasn’t in the mood to be calmed down. He wanted blood.

I did what anyone would do in this circumstances.

I raced toward Steel as he was distracted by Randy coming in. Greyson skillfully approached him from behind. Before he knew it, the bottle Greyson had managed to pick up was smashed to the side of Steel’s head. Unfortunately, it didn’t have the effect Greyson expected, because instead of falling, Steel managed to shoot Randy.

“No!” Steel yelled when he realized what he’d done. He dropped the gun without putting on the safety, and another shot went through Randy.

Steel ran to the lifeless body on the ground. Suddenly, I realized Steel wasn’t approaching Randy out of grief. He planned to take his gun. I wasn’t the only one who saw this as Paul entered just in time to tell Steel to put the gun down.

He shook his head. “No, I fucking won’t. They killed him. They need to pay!”

Steel spun to shoot someone. I wasn’t sure if it was me or Greyson he wanted. Either way, Paul got to him first, and then like Randy, Steel was on the ground.

“He’s not dead,” Paul announced because he hadn’t shot to kill him.

Greyson approached Steel and made sure he was disarmed. Steel shook, still trying to get a gun.

Whoever had killed his Mom wasn’t here, but she must have been with Mel. It made me happy to know Mel was safe.

Playboy had said he would bring them home. I remembered during the commotion that Frank had been calling me. But as I looked at my phone, I saw he’d left a message.

We have all the proof we need! See you tomorrow!

I was tired. The last few days had been exhausting, I just wanted my son, grandson and Mel here. I didn’t care if she didn’t feel the same way about me.

I just wanted them all to be safe and sound.

* * *

After a nightof nearly no sleeping. I heard movement in the kitchen and decided to join whoever was in there.

Erin was up making breakfast, and Greyson was nursing a black coffee. Something he often did in the morning.

“Maybe, we could get live bands in again.” Erin tossed another pancake in the air. I didn’t feel like drinking or eating anything, as I sat down beside Greyson at the square breakfast table.

“Why did I hit him from the side? Why the fuck didn’t I hit him from the back?” Greyson’s dark eyes shifted to meet mine. As if I had the answer to his question.

It was as if everyone was lost in their own faults, and none of us were communicating with each other.

“How would I know? I don’t know how you was trained.”

It sounded like a dig at Greyson, but it was the least of my worries.

“Will you two grow a pair? Who cares about Steel and his Mom and if you’d hit him from the back or the front. I’m talking about the club, bar and maybe the whole MC going up in smoke.”

“What?” Both Greyson and I barked as Erin put the pancakes on the table.

“Well, you’re acting like a madman, ranting and raving in the club, closing it for a week and then extending it. Then everyone found out about the kidnapping and problems with the land. We need to get things back on track. No?”

Greyson put a couple of pancakes on his plate then put a smiley face on them with the chocolate syrup. The same way Mom used to when we were kids. “If the so-called brotherhood only wants to be brothers when the going is good, then I say good riddance.”

“Here, hear to that. I agree,” Erin snarled as she headed to the table once again, but this time, to refill the juice which Greyson and I had finished.

How did she put up with us?

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