Page 34 of Property of Tacoma

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes scrunching from the pain as he climbs off his Fat Boy.

My brother’s as stubborn as a mule, but even he knows when to accept help.

He throws an arm around my neck, and I wrap mine around his waist, taking some of his weight as he stands.

“This is fucking embarrassing,” he mutters, wincing as we take the first step toward the clubhouse.

“What? That you got your ass handed to you twice today?” I smirk.

“Fuck off.”

Foxy rushes ahead of us to the door, holding it open. Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something there I can’t quite place.

Concern? Guilt?

Not sure why. She saved my brother’s ass today, and that earns her points in my book.

“Thanks,” I grunt as I squeeze through the doorway, still supporting Bane’s weight.

The moment we step inside, I spot my parents sitting at a table near the stage, and I groan internally.

Fuck.

Ma’s going to lose her shit when she gets a look at Bane’s face.

The woman raised us to be tough, but she still loses it every time one of us comes home bloody.

My parents glance over their shoulders, and sure enough, my mom’s eyes go as big as a beach ball when she spots us.

“Oh my God! What happened?” She’s on her feet in a flash.

My dad trails behind her, but he’s not nearly as worked up. He was president before me. He knows firsthand that shit can go sideways in the blink of an eye, like it did today.

Mom steps in front of us, lifting her hands to Bane’s battered face. “Son. Why do you have to keep pissing people off? Look at your beautiful face.”

Bane turns his head, pulling his face from her hands. “Ma! Stop fussin’.”

Ma’s hands land on her hips.

Oh boy. Here we go.

“I’m not fussin’!”

Dad’s eyes are lit up with humor as he comes up behind her and wraps an arm over her chest. “Roxy, leave the boy alone.”

Her eyes narrow up at Pop as she waves a hand out in front of her, crystals dangling from her wrists. “I wouldn’t have tofussif they’d learn some damn self-control.”

Bane and I exchange a look, both of us trying hard not to smile.

Ma’s a natural redhead. She has one hell of a temper. We get our lack of self-control from her. She’d never admit that, though.

She’s not wrong, though.

If I’d been able to keep my shit together when I caught my ex-wife in bed with another man, I wouldn’t have gotten locked up for five years. I wouldn’t have missed my daughter’s birth. Wouldn’t have missed out on the most critical years of my son’s life.

I fucked up.

Royally.