Page 12 of Georgie (Sons of Hell MC #10)

George

Sitting at my desk, surrounded by charts that looked suspiciously like abstract art, I heard a knock. Jessica, leaning against the doorframe like a glamorous fifties pin-up model, grinned.

“So, there’s a nasty rumor spreading around town. Word is you’re gonna have a little shadow for the foreseeable future.”

“No, you are,” I muttered, already picturing the miniature Tasmanian devil—Cameron—about to wreak havoc on my perfectly organized clinic. Chaos, my friends, was brewing, and it smelled suspiciously like burned popcorn and adolescent angst.

Jess laughed, a sound like wind chimes made of polished silver. “Oh, I don’t think so. I’m still technically on maternity leave. Besides, I already have my own band of misfits to deal with; I’m not taking on another.”

“A thousand dollars.” My offer hung in the air, a shimmering bribe.

She shook her head, her smile widening. “Not for a million bucks.”

Just then, Claudia, looking like she’d wrestled a badger and lost, strolled in. “You know there’s another way to keep Cameron occupied and still keep your word to King,” she said, her voice laced with the quiet menace of a librarian who’d discovered a missing bookmark.

“Sedate him for the next few days?” I suggested, only half-joking.

Lidi frowned. “No. Cameron likes to feel needed. Give him something to do.”

“Like what?” I scoffed. “Offer to let him do Mr. Jones’ gallbladder surgery? Because I’m pretty sure that’d end up on YouTube, trending faster than a cat video with a laser pointer.”

Jess chuckled. “While I’d pay good money to see that, no. King told me you are corralling the kids so Josie and the others can get ready for the wedding, right?”

“Yeah?” My eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling my skin like a swarm of miniature, highly caffeinated bees.

Where was this going?

“Have Cameron be LeeAnn’s gofer. Tell him he’d be a big help if he could stick by LeeAnn while you help Josephine with everything else. Cameron is great at multitasking...” Jess trailed off, leaving me to ponder the sheer lunacy of her suggestion.

Unleash Cameron on LeeAnn?

That was like setting a hyperactive squirrel loose in a porcelain shop filled with priceless Ming vases.

“You want me to unleash Cameron on LeeAnn? That’s like setting a bull loose in a china shop,” I groaned. “He’ll have her running in circles, and the wedding will be a disaster. We’ll be having a ‘rustic chic’ wedding reception... if ‘rustic’ means ‘utter and complete destruction.’”

“Oh, come on,” Jess chimed in, ever the optimist or possibly a masochist. “It won’t be that bad. Cameron might be a handful, but he’s got a heart of gold. And LeeAnn can handle him; she’s not exactly a pushover.”

“True,” I conceded. “But it’s still a risky move. What if they end up at each other’s throats? Will we need a mediator... or maybe a small army?”

“Then we’ll have some entertainment for the wedding,” Lidi said with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Besides, it’s not like you have a better option. Unless you want to go back on your word to King.”

I sighed, defeated.

They had me.

Completely and utterly cornered, like a bewildered mouse in a cheese maze designed by a sadistic cat. “Fine, I’ll talk to Cameron and see if he’s up for the task. But if he drives LeeAnn crazy, it’s on your heads.”

As I reluctantly agreed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a meticulously crafted trap, designed by masterminds who specialized in chaos theory and had far too much time on their hands.

But with no better ideas, I figured I might as well embrace the impending hurricane of adolescent energy. Little did I know, this was just the pre-game show. The main event—Cameron versus LeeAnn, the wedding, and possibly the apocalypse—was yet to come.

Buckle up, buttercups. This was going to be a wild ride.

After seeing the time, I gathered my coat and headed for the front door, passing the receptionist’s desk and smiling as I remembered Josie’s screams as I ate her for breakfast. Needing actual sustenance, I walked out of the clinic and headed for my car when Mike Brewer whistled, getting my attention.

Looking up, I saw the sheriff standing across the street, wiggling his finger at me.

Groaning, I walked across the street to see what the man wanted.

Mike Brewer, our sheriff, a man whose whistle could curdle milk at fifty paces, interrupted my escape. He was standing across the street, his finger wiggling like an enthusiastic conductor leading a one-man orchestra of doom.

“Kind of busy, Mike. Got a brief window before my next appointment at the hospital. Can this wait? I have a date with a cheeseburger,” I asked, already calculating how much faster I could run if I had to.

“Nope,” he stated, all firmness and granite jaw. He stepped aside, revealing the alluring interior of the sheriff’s station. A place where I’d rather be anywhere but.

I sighed dramatically. “Hunter Dukes is pressing assault charges?”

Mike frowned. “Nope. But should I be on the lookout for him?”

“Not if he values his kneecaps,” I muttered mainly to myself as I headed into Mike’s office where I sank into the chair with the grace of a collapsing soufflé. “So, spill it, Sheriff.”

Mike leaned back, a glint in his eye. “Heard you claimed Josephine Hennessy.”

I smirked. “Rosewood’s gossip train runs on caffeine and pure, unadulterated drama. Apparently, carrying a screaming woman out of a coffee shop is the new cardio.”

Mike chuckled. “With my wife, Beth, at the helm, it’s more like a supersonic jet. Said it brightened her whole day.”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, trying to subtly shift my weight to a more comfortable position. “But what’s the real reason for the summons?”

I liked Mike; he was a good guy, but not my idea of lunchtime chat.

“Emily Holmes,” he said, his tone shifting.

My laughter died.

The smirk vanished.

My perfectly sculpted cheekbones felt decidedly less perfect.

“My ex-fiancée,” I growled, a low rumble in my chest.

“Good terms?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in observation.

“Not exactly. Let’s just say I caught her bent over my desk with my business partner. Sold my practice, moved here, haven’t seen her in a year. Why?”

“She was here ten minutes ago, looking for you. With a baby.”

My jaw dropped. “A what?!”

Mike’s eyebrow arched. “A baby. Said it’s yours.”

I closed my eyes, picturing a tiny version of me, inheriting my killer good looks and, unfortunately, my terrible sense of humor. “You have got to be kidding me!”

“She’s already been to the hospital,” Mike added casually, as if this was a daily occurrence.

“Did my granny see her?”

Granny, my slightly eccentric, but fiercely protective grandmother, who ran the hospital like a four-star general, had eyes that could spot a fib from a mile away.

Mike shrugged.

And then all decorum vanished.

I bolted from the office, a blur of frantic movement. My carefully constructed composure? Gone with the wind. I was a rocket propelled by pure, unadulterated terror and a sudden, overwhelming urge to acquire a large quantity of ice cream.

My life, it seemed, had just taken a very unexpected turn into a sitcom I didn’t audition for. And now, I had to face the music, or rather, Granny.

Too bad I didn’t make it past the front door before I ran smack dab into my brother Frank.

Frank, my brother, and the bane of my existence, stood before me, a smirk plastered across his face. “Well, well, well. Out for diapers?”

I narrowed my eyes, my temper flaring.

“Shut up, Frankie. It’s not my kid.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying, bro. You might want to stock up. Diapers are expensive.”

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to strangle him. “It’s not my kid! Now move, I need to talk to Granny.”

He stepped aside, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Good luck with that. And with Josephine when she finds out. You’re gonna need it.”

I brushed past him. My mind raced as I strode toward the hospital, my heart pounding with dread.

What would Granny say?

More importantly, what would Josephine say? How did I tell my best friend, the woman I loved and just claimed, that the woman who broke my heart was now back in my life, and this time, she was parading around a kid that wasn’t mine?

As I entered the hospital, my eyes scanned the corridors, searching for the formidable figure of my grandmother. The whispers of the town’s gossip train seemed to follow me, the hum of voices growing louder in my imagination. Rosewood’s residents sure knew how to stir up drama.

I spotted Granny’s silver bun and strode determinedly towards her, my heart pounding like a drum in my ears.

She turned, her sharp eyes fixed on me, and I knew this would be a conversation to remember. “Granny,” I began, my voice steady despite my nerves. “I need to talk to you about Emily Holmes.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I could almost see the wheels turning in her sharp mind.

“Ah, the ex-fiancée. What about her?”

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for her reaction. “She’s in town, Granny. And she has a baby. She says it’s mine.”

A slight smile played at the corners of her mouth, but her eyes held a warning. “Is it yours?”

I straightened my shoulders, feeling a surge of determination. “No! I swear.”

Granny’s eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise.

But it was quickly replaced with her trademark steely gaze.

“Are you sure, boy?” she asked, her voice sharp as a whip.

“Because that woman has always been a troublemaker. If that child is yours, you’ll need to step up and take responsibility. ”

I felt a surge of panic at the thought. “It’s not my kid, Granny,” I insisted, my voice rising. “I haven’t seen Emily in a year, and I sure as hell didn’t father her child. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Granny studied me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. Finally, she nodded, a slight smile returning to her lips. “Alright, then. We’ll deal with her accordingly. But mark my words, that woman is up to no good. Keep your distance and focus on Josephine. She’s the one who matters.”

I nodded, grateful for Granny’s support. But even as I agreed, my mind was reeling.

What was Emily up to? And how was I going to explain this to Josephine?

As I left the hospital, my mind was still racing.

I knew Granny would believe me, but what about Josephine?

The thought of losing her made my heart twist with anxiety.

She was my best friend, the only person who truly understood me.

I couldn’t bear the thought of her slipping away because of Emily’s lies.

I had to find her and explain everything before Emily got to her first. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I quickened my pace, my eyes scanning the familiar streets of Rosewood when the one person I didn’t want to see stopped in front of me.

“Hey, Carebear! Guess what?” The bane of my existence smiled up at me. “King said I was your problem for the rest of the day.”

Grabbing Cameron by the collar of his coat, I pulled him along with me as I headed for my truck.

I had no fucking clue why the kid was here, but upon seeing him I knew he was just the person I needed.

Kid was trouble with a capital T and considering what I’ve seen the kid do in the past, I knew he would come up with something brilliant to help me out of this mess fast.

“Dude!” Cameron huffed. “Sissy just bought me this coat.”

“I need your help?”

“Sure, sure. No problem, but you gotta stop dragging me first.”

I stopped, letting the kid go as he readjusted his coat.

“Sorry, kid. Been a crappy day.” I groaned, raking my hands through my hair and looking around as residents stared on in rapt attention.

“I heard.” The brat frowned, looking up at me. “It’s all over town.”

Shaking my head, I asked, “Why aren’t you in school?”

“Let’s just say Principal Kellerman and I had a difference of opinion. He said if I didn’t start obeying the rules, he wouldn’t let me participate in this year’s science fair, and I may have said if he didn’t take that stick out of his ass and chill out, I would up my game.”

Of course, the brat did. I expected nothing less from him.

“And let me guess,” I snarked, rolling my eyes. “Three-day suspension?”

“Yep!” the brat happily admitted. “King’s hopping mad, but he said he had more important things to worry about, and said you would know what to do with me.”

Cameron, the kid brother I never wanted, grinned up at me, clearly proud of his suspension.

I sighed. This kid was a handful, but he had a knack for getting out of sticky situations. “Alright, let’s get out of here. People are staring.” I started walking again, dragging him by the collar. “And you can start by filling me in on what you’ve heard.”

I needed all the information I could get to formulate a plan. Dealing with Emily and her false claims was going to be tricky, but with Cameron’s help, I might just make it out of this mess in one piece.

As we reached my truck, I released his collar, and he smoothed it down, looking slightly offended.

“So, what’s the plan, boss?” the brat asked, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and excitement.

I knew that look. It usually meant trouble.

“First, we find Josephine. I need to explain this whole mess to her before Emily gets to her with her lies. Then, we figure out what Emily’s game is and shut it down. I’m not letting her ruin my life again,” I said, my jaw clenched at the thought of facing my ex-fiancée and her deception.