Page 53 of His Claim

Tatum

“I can’t believe how big the kids are.”

Greer smiled and sipped her margarita. “Girl, time is just flying by. I can’t believe it either.”

The clubhouse was pretty much exactly how I had pictured it.

One huge ass room with pool tables, poker tables, a big ass TV, a couple of couches, a bar, and a kitchen. Down a long hallway were all of the rooms.

Meg had shown me to my room, and I was glad to see that Greer was right next door with the kids.

Kitty flopped down on the sofa next to Greer. “I’m already tired and worried,” she laughed.

Greer patted her leg. “The guys will be fine, sweetie. Have a margarita, and try to relax.”

“Oh,” Kitty laughed. “I’m not worried about the guys. I mean,” she sputtered, “I’m worried, but I’m not worried. It’s my dad,” she sighed. “He’s been having a lot of good days, but I know that can all change at the drop of a hat. Especially when his routine changes. Being at the clubhouse might not be the best thing for him, but I’m just going to have to roll with the punches until the guys wrap up their business trip.”

Greer snickered and downed the last of her margarita. “You’re too cute, Kitty.”

“I’m really worried about the guys,” I blurted. I had been trying to play it cool and not be a frantic basket case, but I couldn’t hold it back anymore. “I just got Murphy back, and I’m not into losing him again.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Greer cried. “You’re not going to lose him. I know it may seem like Brandt has the upper hand, but the Banachis always come out on top.”

“But why has he been able to get so close? He got me and Murphy, and then he almost blew up some of the guys and half of the Devil’s Knights,” I wondered.

“Because Leo thought he would just go away after failing so many times,” Greer pointed out. “He didn’t think Brandt had that much perseverance in him. They’ve got his number now,” she replied confidently.

But did they really? I wasn’t going to be able to breathe easily until Brandt was dead and in the ground.

“Who wants another margarita?” Greta called. “They go great with a stack of pancakes.”

Greer raised her hand. “I need a refill over here, girlfriend,” she called.

“Who would have thought up margaritas and pancakes?” Kitty laughed. “It must be a biker thing.”

Greta filled Greer’s glass and handed me an empty cup. “Hold that,” she instructed.

“Uh, I don’t really want to start drinki­–”

Greta didn’t care what I wanted. She started pouring even though my cup was cockeyed. I quickly righted it, and she filled it to the brim. “Bone apple titties,” she cheered.

Greer raised her glass to Greta and let out a laugh. “Man, whenever I hang out with these chicks, I wonder if I made the wrong choice in being a goon’s wife.”

“Greer,” Kitty giggled. “You know the guys hate it when they get called goons.”

Greer shrugged. “I guess that must be the I don’t give a fuck ol’ lady coming out of me.” She took a long drink of her margarita. “Can you imagine Apollo in a leather vest and riding a Harley?” She fanned her face with her hand. “We would have had ten kids.”

“Is she daydreaming about being an ol’ lady?” Meg wandered over to the couch and perched on the armrest. “Whenever we ply her with alcohol, she thinks Apollo should join the MC.”

“I just want the cut for a night or two.” Greer smiled. “And a motorcycle.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Murphy

“Oh shit.”

“Fuuuuck.”

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