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“I know.”

“Good, ’cause I need to count on every member of my council.” Tiny turned his head and stared at him.

“You can.”

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Without a doubt.” Moose knew his loyalty always rested with his family first.

Tiny finished his drink, tapped on the bar with his knuckles and stood. “I’m off. Boston’s been sick. I want to make sure her stubborn ass is staying off her feet.”

Moose smirked. To be so tiny, Boston stood up to Tiny like a fucking trooper. A feat not many men twice her size could claim, with the exception of Hawk. He watched Tiny leave and drank his beer slowly. He didn’t want to lose Joey. That much he knew. She fits into his lifestyle, and they were a good match. Who knew if he’d find that again? The issue came with commitment. Did he want to link them for the rest of their lives? He’d never been a coward. But the thought struck terror in his heart. The shit with the Eights showed him how fast perfect could change. Would a fight between them, or tension affect his brothers? It sounded silly, but bikers took their fatherhood damn seriously. It all boiled down to what kind of man Wanderer was.

“Deep thoughts?” Shooter asked.

“Yeah, man. This whole thing working hinges on Wanderer. Joey essentially hasn’t changed. She’s not the type to force anything and I believed her when she told me how things went. He’s the unknown factor. It’s obvious he wants her with him.”

“Yeah, but after this long, I’d say he doesn’t have a right to stake his claim,” Shooter said.

“Don’t matter what we think. You know the rules as well as I do,

brother.” He gripped the beer bottle tightly.

“Yeah, I know, Moose.” Shooter shook his head. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Having a talk with Wanderer. What the fuck else am I going to do?” Moose retorted. He finished off his beer. “Not today though. I’m liable to take his fucking head off with the state my mind is in.”

* * * * *

The next week was slow torture. He’d grown used to Joey in his bed, a major part of his life. He missed her wit and her laughter. The time for pretense was gone. He’d fallen for her. Sick of the games, he put on his vest and walked out of his room…a man on a mission. Today, he’d see Wanderer and set this shit straight. The bike ride was made on autopilot. It bugged the fuck out of him, but the man held his future in his hands. He pulled up to the gate and a prospect immediately came down and let him in.

“Is someone expecting you?” the short blond asked.

“No, but I’m pretty sure Wanderer will fit me in if you let him know Moose is here.”

“All right, follow me into the clubhouse.”

Moose walked behind him, scanning the area. There weren’t many people there. He’d lucked out catching Wanderer in at all. A man with many hats, the president often spent more time away than at home.

“Wait here.”

“Yep.” Moose took a seat at the bar.

“Can I get you something?” A brunette in a skin-tight black mini-dress leaned forward, showing her creamy cleavage.

“Naw, I’m good.” He sent her a look, letting her know he meant it in more ways than one.

She huffed, tossing her curls over her shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

“Hey, he said you could come back now.” The prospect sounded nervous and perplexed.

Moose almost felt bad for him. It wasn’t easy to start at the bottom rung and work your way up. They rode prospects hard, but it was worth it in the end to become part of a family that would lay down their lives for one another. The rules kept them honest and open. It was a way of life you couldn’t understand until you experienced it firsthand.

“Thanks, kid.” Moose stood and walked down the hallway to the office at the end. He stepped through the door and reminded himself to keep his cool and remember this man wasn’t just Joey’s long-absent father. He was the president of a powerful M.C. they had an alliance with.

The bruises on Wanderer’s neck were fading from black and blue to yellow and green. The black eye had faded. It wasn’t the norm to get hit in the face when you were spilling blood. Someone must’ve been really pissed off on Joey’s mother’s behalf. “I wondered if you were going to show up,” Wanderer greeted him.

“It was a lot to take in.”


Tags: Shyla Colt Lords of Mayhem Romance