Page 89 of Ruptured

Grant nodded.

“This life not for everybody, Grant. It’s hard, fast, and brutal. We have the road. Endless stretches of beautiful land with nothing but the wind in your hair. We got women. Parties. Brotherhood. Drugs. Alcohol. Money. Sex. But no freedom’s free. Not even our kind. You understand me?” He tapped his temple. “Think long and hard about that.”

“I will. I promise.”

Behind him, the door opened. Even before Mort turned and saw her, Bailey’s scent wafted to him and his body came alive. His guard also went up. Last night, when he’d come home to check on her, she’d barely wanted to talk.

“Hey, Bailey,” Grant said, offering her a two-finger greeting, then smiling at Mort. “Thanks for your advice. I appreciate you so much.”

“Any time, little dude.”

Mort waited until the kid walked back to his house and went inside before he turned to his wife. The first rays of the morningsun surrounded her in a halo, bouncing off her dark hair, and highlighting swaths of deep brown, as it streamed around her. Although the sash around her waist tied her silk robe together, she clutched the edges of each side. The way the material fell against her body, Mort knew she wore nothing underneath.

His cock turned to stone. Somehow, he kept himself still, when he only wanted to grab his wife and fuck her hard and deep.

“H-how are you?” she asked hesitantly, so sweet and gorgeous his heart expanded and fell in love with her all over again. “You were gone almost all night.”

“Situations arose,” he said carefully, afraid he’d set her off. “I needed to help Outlaw.”

Her delicate throat worked as she swallowed. “I spoke to Dr. Noys. Rule is very combative. I asked him to get it under control, but he thinks he needs more intensive care.”

“He probably do,” Mort conceded. “Father Wilkins agreed to that?”

“The priest thinks it’s beneficial for all concerned to keep Rule nearby. At least his father and brothers can visit him. If he’s in California, it won’t be as easy.”

“I agree, but maybe, he should talk to Outlaw. He might have temporary guardianship but the little motherfucker a priest. He don’t know nothing about raising a child.”

“Probably not, but he also doesn’t have fifty other children dividing his attention.”

“Just a flock of parishioners.” Mort just managed to bite back his sarcasm. “His attention divided too, Bailey.”

“Meggie called me yesterday. Last night.” Scowling, Bailey drew herself up and a breeze lifted her hair. “We didn’t talk long. My God, what did she want me to say?”

“Do you need anything? I’m sorry for what happened. I’m here for you. Any of those would’ve been nice.”

“I helped Rule. My actions should suffice.”

“You weresupposedto help Rule,” Mortician snapped. “You got the fucking expertise and the connections.”

“Which is all I’m good to anyone for.”

Closing his eyes and counting to three, Mort corralled his anger and started over. “Bailey, baby, we all lend our expertise and resources to help each other.”

“She hasyetto apologize to me and, suddenly, she thinks she can call me out of the fucking blue because she’s gotten herself into a situation ofhermaking?”

“I’m not dignifying that with a motherfucking answer. No, fuck, yes I am. We all saw Rule deteriorate, and we all ignored it. We the fucking adults.Youthe fucking psychologist.”

“But not a fucking puppet, ready to jump to Meggie’s demands since she’s always fucking pregnant. It figures,” she ranted. “It’s the women who don’t deserve children who push them out without issue.”

“I get it now, Bailey. Your entire fucking problem with Meggie is you jealous of her.”

She glared at him and color swept over her beautiful skin. “Maybe, I am, but if I truly wanted to be done with the club, I wouldn’t have helped with Rule. That isn’t my job.” Lifting her chin, she clutched her robe tighter. “But I kept thinking about our kids, Lucas. What if Kaleb or Lou tried to hurt Harley or me? Harleyandme? What would I do? I kept thinking how grateful I was that it was them instead of us.”

Mort was worn out, so he didn’t want to misread her statement, despite all the other fucking bullshit she’d spouted, so it was best not to comment. He moved on. “I didn’t want that near tragedy to be any of us.”

She didn’t respond.

“I’ve been thinking about Harley, Bailey,” he admitted on a sigh. “Maybe, it’s time we allowed her back. Life so fucking short.”