Page 11 of Live Love Steal (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #2)

Vunerability - Sketch

A s we walked to the car, Isobel leaned over and took a long, hard look at the license plate. Drunk as she was, she stumbled. Then recovered to glare at me.

“ You better sober up before you drive home.”

That earned me another glare.

I held open the passenger door and helped her inside so she wouldn’t bump her head. Then got in the other side, turned my makeshift key, and once the car was running, taped the loose wires and pieces into place so they wouldn’t be dangling against my leg like they were on the way here.

We’d just cleared the gates when she started in.

“ Where is my car?”

“ Harrisburg .” I turned onto the highway.

“ I know my plate number, and well…” She motioned to the back end of the vehicle. “ You stole my plates.”

I hadn’t, but by proxy, I had. So , I didn’t deny it.

“ Why steal my car , then?”

My silence wasn’t an answer.

“ Why ? Sketch . You already had my plates. Why break my window and beat up my car? Do you have something against me? My father?” Her voice rose.

“ Ground rule number one. No talking.”

She opened her mouth.

“ Ground rule number two, as soon as I get your car from Whoosh , you’re on your own.”

“ No .”

What was she going to accuse me of now?

“ Once we confirm my laptop and my car are safe, I’ll be one hundred percent happy to forget you even exist.”

“ Good . Ground rule three, you talk about anything related to this day, the Destroyers , or our business, and someone in your family will pay the price.” That wasn’t a threat. That was an inevitability.

“ Are you threatening my family?”

That didn’t deserve an answer. Obviously , she didn’t see the whole picture.

“ One , I didn’t physically steal your plates.

I think a prospect did. Two , no one in the club tried to steal your car.

I know that for a fact. Three , you love your family, that’s easy to tell.

Which means they’re vulnerable. They’re also your vulnerability.

Wolf would have picked up on that. And , I’ll add, he pointed it out to Griz , who is really good at making people shut up.

So do with that information what you will. ”

My phone rang. I picked it up and swiped the screen to answer. Now wasn’t the time to ignore anything. I set it on speaker out of habit.

“ David ?”

Great . My ex, Sharon . “ What the fuck do you want?”

“ Noah’s not feeling well.”

Shit . I curbed the urge to turn around and pick up my kid. “ Is it serious?”

“ I don’t know.” Her cavalier sarcasm told me it wasn’t, and this was going to be one of those calls where she was just frustrated and taking her shit out on me.

“ I’m busy right now. What do you need from me?”

“ I need you not to be an ass for once.”

That ship sailed when I caught her in bed with one of the wannabes we allowed in the gates one night for a party. “ Talk .”

“ You’re a dick.”

“ Talk to me about Noah .” God , she was a piece of work. I had the shittiest taste in women. A quick glance to my right confirmed it. Isobel sat staring straight ahead, arms crossed and a little furrow between her brows. She was fuming alright.

“ He says his tummy hurts.”

“ Put him on.”

There was a quiet shuffle on the other end, and then his tentative voice warbled through the speakers. “ Dad ?”

“ Hey , your mom says your tummy hurts. Did you eat something wonky?”

“ I don’t know. I don’t think so, it just hurts.”

That could be a lot of things. “ High or low?”

“ High .”

Shit . Low would pass, literally. “ Did your mom give you anything?”

“ I threw it up. It tasted bad.”

“ Bad how? Bitter or just yucky?”

“ Yucky . It was pink.”

That would have been my first choice, too. “ The pink medicine isn’t so bad. I take it once in a while when my stomach hurts. But if you threw it up, that’s not good. Are you running a fever?”

There was a muffled conversation, and my ex came back on the line. “ He’s at ninety-nine point five.”

Low fever . “ If it hits a hundred-one, take him to the emergency room.”

“ I don’t have the copay.”

There it was, the real reason she called. Money . “ Tell ‘em to bill it to me.”

“ Can you wire me money instead? I don’t want to deal with the hassle.”

My pause was to slowly inhale, then exhale, just like Isobel taught me to. It kept me from ripping into my ex and gave me a moment to get my words in order. My thoughts were racing around. One of them poked at me. “ How do you plan to move without money?”

“ Why do you think I don’t have money?” Her words were shrill, and I glanced at Isobel , who had flinched.

Her head followed her eye roll as if she couldn’t believe the conversation. Neither could I .

I tried again. “ I don’t know why you think you’ll be better off moving away.

You’re going to be more broke there.” My mom thought she’d be better off farther from Dad .

She didn’t move a whole state away, but it was far enough that I couldn’t see him often.

By the time I needed him to step up, it was too late.

“ Don’t try to twist this around to land on me. You always do that.”

Here comes the lecture…

She continued. “ I’m the victim here. If you really cared about me, or your son, you’d not be such a dick about money...”

It always came down to money. If I knew she wouldn’t spend it on herself, I’d give her every cent I could spare. But that would only make her want more. And I was tired of her manipulation. Tired of her using my son as the lever to abuse me over and over again. “ I said, I’d pay the hospital bill.”

“ Wire me the money for the copay.”

“ I can’t right now.”

“ Why not?”

“ Because I’m driving.”

“ Pull over and send me the money. If you don’t, I’ll tell the court you’re refusing to pay for your son’s hospital bills.”

I pulled the car over. Isobel looked at me like I was insane. She shook her head and dug through her purse. She pulled out a little notepad and scribbled on it.

Whatever it said, I didn’t read it. I pulled out my burner phone and texted my lawyer, warning her to access the recording for the incoming call.

Meanwhile , I told my ex to hold on for a second.

I handed my phone to Isobel and sent her a signal to keep her mouth shut.

Then called my lawyer’s voicemail and muted it until I was sure the service had picked up.

Then I took my phone back from Isobel and held them both close together. “ Okay . How much do you think the hospital visit is going to cost?”

“ I don’t know. Five hundred?”

That was bullshit. “ The copay is eighty.” Same as the last time she took Noah in.

“ What about medicine?”

“ We don’t know if he’ll need medicine yet. If he does, I’ll send more. But for now, I’m sending you eighty. And if the copay is more, or they give you a hassle, call me. I should be home by then.”

“ Where are you?”

“ Driving a friend to get their car.”

Her tone immediately changed, now knowing she had an audience.

“ I appreciate this. Did you want to talk to Noah again?”

“ Please .”

I kept the recording going while Noah told me about some cartoon or other he was watching. I told him to get better and try not to puke up anymore medicine. Then he asked, “ Will I see you tonight?”

That gutted me. I wanted to. “ It isn’t my night, little buddy.”

“ But I’m sick.”

If I could without starting World War Three with his mom, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

And if I didn’t have to drop a load a drugs off for a prospect…

I chanced a look at Isobel . She was still pretending not to listen in, but she was doing a piss-poor job of pretending.

“ If your mom lets me, I’ll stop over. But that will be later, once I drop my friend off. ”

“ Who’s your friend?”

Should I lie? Damn it. I studied Isobel for any hint of what I should say. I mean, it wasn’t like I could tell the truth.

Yet , her “go on” hand gesture indicated just that. “ I helped a woman fix her car. And we’re picking it up.” That was very close to the truth.

“ Cool .”

His voice sounded weak. “ Why don’t you go lie down. I need to talk to your mom.”

His mumble wasn’t reassuring. Sharon got back on the phone.

Isobel wasn’t the only one eavesdropping. “ A woman?”

That didn’t deserve a reply. “ He doesn’t sound good. Do me a favor and take him in as soon as you get the copay I’m sending you. Okay ?”

Her sigh was one of those weary, hard-edged ones that set my teeth on edge. When her sarcastic, “ Fine ,” sounded, it was as if I were replaying a conversation from four years ago.

“ I’ll call you later and see how he’s doing. Would it be okay to stop by to see him?”

“ We’ll see. He might be sleeping. You know how he is.”

I did. He was born premature and got sick easily.

Once whatever medicine hit, he’d sleep for ungodly long hours.

The first few times it worried the fuck out of me.

But after talking to the doctor about it and getting reassured that it was normal, I tried not to let it bother me so much.

He just needs rest, and he’s getting it.

I’d tell myself. And worry just the same.

“ But maybe we could talk?”

Oh , hell no, anything but that. “ We’ll see. Talk to you later.” I hung up both phones, being certain to leave an addendum on my lawyer’s voicemail about the events. Then sent Sharon the eighty I promised.

My lawyer called me back almost as soon as I pulled back onto the road.

“ I listened to your voicemail. What’s the problem?”

“ She wanted cash. Five hundred for a copay that was eighty.”

“ That doesn’t prove anything, and I couldn’t find much in that call to use for your defense. But I’ll add it to the list.”

I figured as much.

“ What about my testimony?” Isobel asked.

“ Are you the woman he’s with?”

“ Yes .” Isobel rattled off her name and gave my lawyer the details and her impression of the call. Tacking on the end her opinion, rather than sticking to the facts. “ She’s a right bitch.”

“ Iz ,” I warned her.