Page 4 of Georgie (Sons of Hell MC #10)

Josie

Day of the funeral...

“So you’re going?” I asked, leaning against the door and watching my dad slip his suit jacket on.

For the first time in months, my dad was actually fully and more specifically, completely dressed and shaved.

I hadn’t seen that glint in his eyes for a long time, and although I was happy to see him back to his old self, I remained unconvinced.

“Dr. Steiner is scheduling you for some more tests.”

“Don’t need them. She cured me,” my dad said, adjusting the handkerchief in his breast pocket.

“Dad, you will do everything Dr. Steiner asks until he gives you a clean bill of health.”

“George.”

“What?”

“His name is George.”

“I know what his name is,” I stated, crossing my arms over my chest.

Turning to look at me, he frowned. “Then why don’t you call him by his first name anymore? You used to. Now it’s Dr. Steiner this and Dr. Steiner that. What changed?”

“Nothing. I’m just keeping it professional.”

“Bullshit,” my dad cursed. “You two were getting along just fine and now you barely talk to each other. Something happened. What was it?”

“Nothing,” I sighed, straightening and running my hands down my black dress. There was no way I was having that conversation with him. “I’ll go get the twins.”

“Josephine?”

Looking back at my dad, he added, “You can’t keep running forever sweetheart.”

“I’m not running, Dad. In fact, I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

Walking away before he could comment on that, I shook my head and groaned because I just knew that somehow, someway my dad would make a scene and instead of burying a beloved town resident, all the town would be talking about was my dad.

The good thing was they wouldn’t be talking about me.

From the moment I returned home, it seemed I was the talk of the town. Gossip came with the territory in small towns, and Rosewood was no different. I just wished they’d move on to someone else.

I wasn’t that interesting.

Sitting on the couch, I groaned, wanting this day over with.

I had enough to do already, and taking time off for a funeral wasn’t on my agenda.

Looking at my son, I smiled as I watched him sitting in a chair, reading one of his books as he waited patiently to get the show on the road.

And when he smirked, I couldn’t help but think of his father.

The con artist.

Freddie fucking Hennessy.

Even after all these years, I couldn’t be mad at the man for how we met. He wasn’t technically the one to blame for that.

I was.

Eight years ago...

I traced the edge of my club soda with one perfectly trimmed fingernail as I slowly took in the rowdy crowd of men that just entered the hotel bar.

“What about one of them?” my friend Stasia asked, ogling several of them.

I just shook my head and looked down into my glass.

“No, they are too old.”

“Stop age-shaming, and they are not. Those men are seasoned to perfection, and I bet they taste delicious, too.”

“Stasia, I’m not even twenty. Those men are at least in their thirties. Look at them.”

“I am.” My friend sighed, placing her head in the palm of her hand as she looked on in wonderment.

“Look, Josie. I’m not missing Gray’s Anatomy for nothing, so get your shit together and pick.

The buffet is open. I see Mr. McCurl-My-Toes, Mr. McFuck-My-Brains-Out, Mr. McSlap-and-Tickle—Oh my fucking God, Mr. McFucking-Multiple-Orgasms is mine. ”

“Can we please go home?”

“Absolutely not,” Stasia firmly said. “You made me promise that no matter what, to not let you talk yourself out of this. So suck it up, buttercup. You are losing your V-card tonight one way or another.”

I picked up my drink and took a sip when I spotted a handsome man sitting in a corner watching me through the mirror as a server placed a bottle of dark whiskey at his table, then poured him a drink.

His gaze met mine, and a wave of intense, burning lust washed over me, leaving me weak and flushed.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the glass, the chill seeping into my skin while I watched him thank the server and swiftly finish the dark whiskey, then straighten his suit.

I could only stare as he approached, his presence so compelling he rendered me speechless.

He was a vision of masculine beauty, a tall and gorgeous man with handsome, chiseled features and dark hair that added to his allure.

Never taking my eyes off him, I whispered, “Stasia?”

“Yeah?”

“Get lost.”

“Huh?” she muttered, then happily grinned when she saw him walking toward me. Getting to her feet, she whispered, “Don’t forget the condom, and I want details in the morning.”

With that, my best friend left as the handsome man took the seat next to me.

“Double shot of whiskey,” the man ordered gruffly to the bartender before looking at me. “Breakup, separation or divorce?”

“Excuse me?”

“Which is it?”

“I don’t understand.”

As soon as the bartender put the double shot of whiskey before him, he immediately and with no delay, drank it all in a single gulp.

He carefully set the now-empty glass back onto the bar’s polished surface and then, with a discreet nod and wave, signaled to the bartender that he would like another drink.

Turning to me, he asked, “Are you here because of a breakup, separation or divorce?”

“None.”

“So, no romantic attachments?”

“Nope,” I muttered as the bartender placed another double in front of him and, like the one before, he downed it quickly, then turned to me and smirked a devilish grin.

“Wanna get out of here?”

I slowly nodded.

Groaning, I leaned my head back on the sofa and closed my eyes. It had been so long since I thought about that night. The night I gave him my virginity and woke up the next morning to find him gone.

He left no note, no thank you, nothing.

It wasn’t until a few months later when I was driving back to my apartment and saw his face plastered on a fucking billboard with him and three other doctors promoting Miami’s newest cosmetic medical clinic.

It was also around that time I found out I was pregnant, and when I showed up early to his new clinic to tell him my news, I found him balls deep in a beautiful buxom blonde.

So, I said nothing and left.

“Josephine?”

Blinking out of my daze, I opened my eyes to find my dad and the twins looking at me weirdly.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep!” I plastered on a smile before jumping to my feet.

Today was the funeral of Mr. Munson.

The former trailer park owner of Rosewood and one of the nicest men I’d ever had the privilege of knowing.

The entire town was expected to attend the funeral, so it was no surprise to see everyone gathered and mingling before the service.

Several of the Sons of Hell brothers, dressed in black and wearing their cuts, stood by the hearse, waiting to escort Mr. Munson to his final resting place.

Of course, LeeAnn McDonald was front and center, dressed in all black from head to toe, even wearing a sheer black veil, kind of like the one Jackie O wore when she buried her first husband, JFK.

Her beautiful daughters were standing around her, though Laurel looked pissed as her new husband Banks whispered something in her ear.

Seeing Devlyn standing on the opposite side of the open grave, I grabbed my dad’s arm and forced him to follow me before he could create a scene.

“Mom?” my son Jasper whispered, tugging on my dress.

Looking down at him dressed perfectly in his black suit, I asked, “What?”

“Can I go stand with George?”

Scanning the crowd, I saw George with his brother Frank and their grandmother, Martha Steiner.

Nodding, I whispered, “No goofing off. I mean it.”

I didn’t need to say anything more. I knew Jasper would behave. However, when I looked around and couldn’t find Jasmine, I sighed.

“What’s wrong?” my dad asked, finding a place to stand, which just happened to give him the perfect line of sight to stare and ogle LeeAnn who slyly smirked, then winked.

“Jasmine,” I groaned looking around for my daughter.

“She’s with Sugar,” Devlyn absently said, never taking her eyes off her phone.

Sliding over near her, I whispered, “You look any harder at that phone and it will combust.”

Looking over at me, she huffed. “I would be so lucky.”

“Wade still giving you a hard time?”

“It’s like he’s made me his personal mission.”

I chuckled, then quickly coughed, clearing my throat when some of the town’s busybodies looked my way.

“He gets too big for his britches let me know and I’ll call Auntie Marabella to put him back in his place.”

Dev frowned. “You’re related to Gator?”

“Kind of, I think. It’s confusing, but my dad’s younger brother, Uncle John, married a woman named Rosalie LaCroix, the first cousin to Marabella, Glorianna, and Savannah LaCroix. So, we’re related, but not. I don’t know. All I know is that when you’re in the bayou, everyone is family, somehow.”

“So you’re related by marriage to Sugar?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure. All I know is that Sugar’s mom was formerly Savannah LaCroix, the youngest sister to Glorianna and Marabella. The three beautiful LaCroix Sisters of New Orleans. So what’s Wade done now?”

“He’s still breathing,” Dev deadpanned, and I smirked as she put her phone in her back pocket, then groaned.

I met Devlyn Never by chance shortly after the twins and I moved back to Rosewood when I swung by City Hall to drop off some zoning paperwork for a new build that dad was considering for the Ski Resort.

That was when I saw Wade annoying the poor woman.

I wished I could have told her that Wade would eventually give up if she ignored him, but that would be a lie.

Wade Crawley was hands down the most stubborn man I’d ever known.

To make matters worse, when he wanted something, he stopped at nothing until he got it.

“Can we get this crap over with? I’ve got shit to do.”

“Jesus, Dev, in a rush much?”

The woman sighed. “Sorry. I just can’t seem to concentrate on anything lately.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Sure.” The woman smirked slyly. “Right after you tell me what’s going on with you and George.”

Frowning, I looked at her and whispered, “We are just friends.”

Slowly tilting her head to the side, she stared dumfounded at me.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. “For the hundredth time, there is nothing going on between me and George.”

“Right, and I haven’t dreamed of shoving Wade’s head up an alligator’s ass.”

I chuckled because I could name quite a few people who would gladly hold him down while she did just that.

Leaning over, Dev snickered. “Brace yourself. Your friend is walking over.”

My eyes snapped up, and sure enough, George was walking over with Jasper and Jasmine in tow. And thank the good Lord, because the second he stepped up beside me, the Rabbi that LeeAnn hired from out of state, started Mr. Munson’s service.

I stood there wondering why Devlyn thought there was something going on between me and George.

It wasn’t like that between us. It never was.

We were just friends until I saw him screwing Scribe’s cousin.

I don’t know why seeing them like that bugged the piss out of me, but it did, and now every time I looked at George, all I could see was his face while he fucked Ares.

I would never begrudge my friend a little romp in the sack, but it wasn’t something I ever wanted to see again.

No matter how good-looking George was.

Not that I cared what he looked like.

Still, the more I thought about it, Devlyn wasn’t the only one who believed there was something more between me and George.

My dad, Mrs. Steiner, Mr. Howard over at the Hardware Store, Mrs. Cohen, Judge Tomlinson, even Morgan Delany over at the Heavenly Spa & More said something the other day, and if my information was right, she knew everything in town.

No matter how many times I told them the truth, they would just smile slyly.

Almost like they knew something I didn’t.

Even now, as I looked around at the town residents, I spotted several people smiling, whispering, some even openly talking as they looked my way and grinned.

Scanning the crowd, I saw Ms. Cohen talking with Judge Tomlinson as both of them nodded in my direction.

Linda Perkins, the sheriff’s secretary, was standing next to Diana Peters, Rosewood’s only CPS agent, who nodded at something Diana said, both of them grinning as they looked at me.

But it was Mrs. Steiner herself, and her broad smile of pride that got my hackles up.

Refusing to give the gaggle more fodder to talk about, I whispered, “George?”

When the big oaf didn’t respond, I lightly stepped on his foot for good measure.

“Jesus, Josie, what the fuck?” the man grumbled, shaking his injured foot.

“Look.”

“What?” He leaned down closer to me.

Barely turning my head toward his, I hissed, “We’re being watched.”

“What?” George groaned, then clearly said, “Never mind. The funeral is over. Let’s go.”

Huh ? “What?”

Blinking, I looked around and sighed. He was right, and I watched as the town residents headed to their cars. Looking next to me, I saw George frowning as he studied me.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, muttering, “Yeah. I was thinking about something.”

“Uh-huh.” George narrowed his eyes and huffed. “Your dad already left with LeeAnn, and Sugar took the twins for some ice cream. So you’re gonna have to ride with me.”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay.”

Dutifully, I followed George, refusing to say another damn word.

The drive from Rosewood Cemetery to the Ski Resort was blissfully quiet. I was thankful George wasn’t in the mood to talk, because I really didn’t know what to say to him.

That’s when I spotted the biggest mistake of my life—Freddie ‘the slimy bastard’ Hennessy, standing at the entrance of the Ski Resort with the biggest fucking smile on his face.

“Oh. My. God.”