Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
My lips twitch. “No, probably not. I’ll have Z get you the information.”
She pops a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you.”
“Let me go up and see Grace for a minute, then I’m heading back.”
“Okay, I’ll text Heidi or Trin and meet you over there.”
Hell help me, but somewhere in the very distant future, I better die first.
Without Hope, life wouldn’t be worth living.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Teller
Everyone’s still too keyed up from the events to relax or unwind. Plus, outsiders are in the clubhouse. Not exactly the time to rehash what happened. Brothers have either gone to their rooms or are down in the dining room stuffing their faces. I’m still leaning on Charlotte harder than I want to think about.
My gaze lands on a familiar figure sitting on the couch by herself.
“Steer me that way,” I say to Charlotte.
“Who’s that? The doctor’s wife?”
“Rock’s ex-wife.” I can’t remember if I ever told Charlotte that before. It’s not like we see Carla all that often or that she’s relevant today.
She might hold pieces of my past, though.
“Give me a minute,” I whisper to Charlotte.
“I’ll get you some Advil.” She pats my chest and walks away.
“I see you’re still here.” Carla flashes a brittle smile as I fall onto a couch cushion not too far from her.
My mother might be the only other woman I hate in this world more than Carla.
“Longer than you did,” I quip.
“What’d you get into this time? Oh, don’t tell me.” She touches three fingers to her lips in a mocking way. “Club business.”
“Tell me something, Carla,” I lean in closer to her. “Why’d it bother you so damn much that Rock looked after us? Blake and I were just kids. My sister was a baby.” I can’t shake the feeling that she somehow knew who Rock was to me but I don’t want to ask her directly.
Her gaze turns distant. “The three of you were like a hungry pack of stray dogs.” She spits out the last word, then meets my eyes. “I wanted us to have our own family, not adopt riffraff whose parents didn’t want to take care of them.”
Twenty years ago that might have hurt my feelings. Now, all I feel is relief. “You leaving was the best thing that ever happened to him.” I stare her down until she looks away. “He finally has the family he deserves. With a good woman.”
Carla snorts. “Did that poor thing stick around?”
“She understands what loyalty means.” The unlike you is implied.
As if she’d been summoned, Hope steps in the front door. Her gaze roams around the clubhouse. Searching for Rock, no doubt. But her eyes land on me and she hurries over.
I don’t know if someone told Hope that Carla was here and she took extra care fixing her long auburn hair into smooth waves, picking out jeans and a pale blue sweater that hug all her curves, or she just rolled out of bed and shuffled over to the clubhouse looking so effortlessly beautiful, but the contrast between Hope and Carla couldn’t be more stark. It gives me immense satisfaction. Carla had been extremely vain and superficial when she was married to Rock.
Carla squirms and runs her hands over her short, ragged ponytail, pulling it even tighter.
“Hello, Carla,” Hope says in a soft, but not exactly welcoming, tone.
“I don’t envy you,” she sneers at Hope, instead of offering a normal hello. “You must have fun wondering every night where he is. And who he’s with.” Carla tilts her head. “Is he still working at the strip club, bedding all the dancers?”
Ignoring the taunt, Hope does the most perfectly Hope thing. She turns to face me, giving Carla her back. She cups my chin and tips my head up, staring me in the eye. “Rock and I want you and Charlotte to stay at our house tonight so we can look after you.” She squeezes my chin gently. “Non-negotiable.”
My lips quirk. “Yes, Mom.”
She bops my nose. “What’d I tell you about that?”
“Who’s with Grace?” I ask, more to rub it in Carla’s nose that Rock and Hope have a daughter, than out of worry for my little sister.
“Heidi’s watching her.”
Carla lets out a told-you-so snort.
“I want to check on Carter,” Hope adds, still pretending Carla doesn’t even exist.
“He’s with the doc.” I lift my chin toward the hallway. “Trin said they turned your yoga studio into a hospital ward.”
Charlotte returns and hands me a glass of water and four Advil. Worry and exhaustion have left her pale. I pull her down next to me and curl a protective arm around her. “You should go home with Hope and get some rest. Carter’s okay. I’ll be fine.”
She shakes her head.
“Get used to this,” Carla says to Charlotte. “It never ends.”
Charlotte’s not in the mood to be fucked with tonight. Her face smooths into her lawyerly mask. “Aren’t you married to the doc who’s patching everyone up? You hardly seem to be in a position to judge anyone.”