Page 8 of The Souls We Claim

The one I hoped would one day waltz back into my life, suck me into her orbit, and take me with her.

And the first tear falls.

3

HALO

“You gotta stop hounding me,” Vex says when he answers my call.

I just got home from the clubhouse. It’s midmorning, and the sitter is pissed. Guess I said I’d be home by ten, but I paid her well for the sixteen-hour shift. My head pounds, and my stomach’s a wreck. Managed to shove down a vat of coffee before I left the clubhouse, but that’s left my gut feeling raw. Or maybe that’s all the whiskey I downed last night during Dad’s wake. I woke up alone, but there was evidence I fucked a whole lot before I passed out.

“Just wondered if you made any progress hunting Brad Collins down.”

Lola grins at me from her high chair, where I just laid down some toast, banana, and cereal. Her little legs are still kicking at the sight of me. Never had anyone so excited to see me, even though there’s a strong likelihood I stink of booze.

“Brother. As soon as I have anything, I’ll let you know. But when I said yesterday that the man is a ghost, I meant it. And since then, it was the funeral and wake. I’m working on it, but I won’t find him any faster with you calling me ten times a day.”

I sigh and rub a hand over my face.

“Listen,” Vex continues. “I know you’re feeling it. That sense of responsibility that somehow your father caused everything that happened to the club.”

That’s exactly what I’m feeling. Because the head of the Righteous Brotherhood is his son. My half-brother. “I was wondering if I should go nomad. Go mano-a-mano with Collins.”

“Yeah. ‘Cause that’s a fucking brilliant idea. The man has an organization as big as the Outlaws and so far has a five hundred batting average against us. I get you are a badass SEAL, but this isn’t a solo mission.”

Lola fists a handful of banana. It squelches between her fingers. I glance up at the clock.

Shit.

It’s Mercy’s funeral in twenty minutes, and I’ve been stalling about going. I got no time for the woman who stuck her hands down my pants and told me that she wanted both Flynn men.

No. I’m not going. I focus back on Vex.

“I just feel…”

“I already said it. Responsible. So, your dad slept around. Big fucking deal. Most kids without a dad don’t turn into raging monsters with a hard-on for killing the DNA trail. Collins needs to get over his shit, or we’ll get over it for him. Nothing says ‘no more daddy issues’ like a bullet to the brain and the destruction of everything he cared about.”

I sigh. “Got it. Nomad was just a thought.”

“Well, stop thinking it. We’re better as a team. Gotta go. King wants me.”

He hangs up, and I place my phone down on the table.

This isn’t a solo mission.

Vex’s words ricochet around my head. He’s right. I would never have gone out on a mission on my own. In the SEALs, wehad our own command center, and we lived and died as a unit. It’s one of the reasons I live and breathe the Outlaws. We have the same bond.

Grief has this funny way of stripping away things you once found vital. I was letting it get in the way of the man I pride myself on being.

Fuck it.

This isn’t the man I am. My sister needs to know I had her back. And when she asks, I need to be able to tell her we did right by her mom.

I grab Lola, high chair and all, and carry her to the guest bathroom where I put her down facing away from the glass cubicle. My own bathroom is still under renovation. I was hoping to have this house ready to flip next month and benefit from selling it in the summer. I planned to crash at the clubhouse while I found a new house to start on. It’s not going to happen now, as all my attention is on Brad Collins.

I take a quick two-minute shower, periodically glancing over at Lola to ensure she isn’t choking on her banana.

Once I have a towel wrapped around me, I turn her around.