"Perri went to heaven," she says softly. "She was making a new life, but God wanted her in heaven."
Despite her soft tone for Tallulah's sake, Bebe's eyes are full of rage. Two kids lost their mom today. Jenn is in surgery a floor below us. Her children are waiting outside of town to find out if they're motherless too. Blood has been spilt, and only spilling more blood will make things right.
46
Bebe
Right Thing to Say
Pax walks into the hospital room, and I feel a weight lift off me. Tallulah perks up too. We need him to stay and keep us safe. Not just from the physical threats but the emotional ones too. This big, scary man makes the world easier with his smile. His rough voice helps me believe in good things. Pax brightens a dark, ugly world, but he needs to leave.
The men don't say they have to go. I ignore the signals from them too, but Shay finally forces me to accept reality.
"Can we talk real quick?" I ask Pax.
When he nods, we walk into the adjoining bathroom and shut the door. He seems imposing in the small space, but I only fear him leaving.
"The club needs you," I say, struggling to sound calm.
"Going on the run isn't happening now. We finish this in the next few days, or it finishes us."
Staring up at him, I nod. "I love you."
Pax's cool exterior cracks, and I worry I sound too needy. When I move towards him, he notices my limp. His light blue eyes are dark with worry.
"My hip and thigh are bruised, but nothing's broken. I'll be back to riding you again in a few days. Maybe a week."
Pax grins. "I don't mind you being lazy in bed. Makes me feel like a man on a mission."
We share a smile, but I'm terrified to tell him goodbye. The jinx hanging over my family feels too real now. If I let Pax go, I'm sure I'll never see him again. Never feel his touch or hear his laugh. Never again will I feel safe. No other man will ever love me like Pax. He's my soul mate, and I'm about to say goodbye.
Dumping my panic on him when he needs to be strong can't happen. I might feel beat down after a long day, but I refuse to make things worse on Pax.
"I think a holiday baby will be fun," I say. "Maybe instead of Roy, we could name a boy Roger Reed."
Knowing I want to say so much more, Pax smiles. "I've only known one Roger, and he ate boogers. Not just his either. Real weirdo."
Despite my fear and exhaustion, I laugh. "So no Roger."
"The name Roy will grow on you. Trust me."
"Can I pick the girl's name?"
"Sure, but no nicknames like Lula. I can't explain why it bugs me, but it does."
"Deal," I say, wrapping him in my arms. "Now kiss me like you mean it."
Pax doesn't waste any time. His lips on mine feel so right. Our bodies respond to a hunger outside of the blood and death from today. Hell, I feel his kiss all the way down to my toes. For those few minutes with our bodies pressed against each other, I can't feel the pain in my hip or the fear in my heart.
Knowing the passion must end, I grudgingly let him go. Pax studies my face while I memorize his.
"I hate to ask for anything, especially when you're dealing with Zombie. I only hope you'll make the bastard suffer before you finish him."
Laughing quietly, Pax cups my face. "Only one person has always known the right thing to say to me. Even when Ford razzes me, it's because he knows I need to hear it. Now I have a woman who never fails to say the right things. I'm a lucky fucking man."
As Pax and Ford leave the hospital room, I pray my man's luck continues.
47
Pax
Hunting a Dead Man
Ford thinks about Zombie's life and figures a man on the run will hide where he feels the safest. While I don't believe the asshole is dumb enough to go to his mom's house, we spot Zombie's Harley in her driveway.
We park our bikes two doors down from his mom's place. No reason to sneak up on him when he must know we're coming.
The bat feels electric in my hand. My mind recalls Zombie's expression when we arrived at the mall. His wide eyes followed by a smirk are classic Zombie. I'd seen him freak out on people dozens of times. Every time, he wore the same fucking look. I wonder what he'll look like when I bash in his face.
The front door stands open with only a puny screen to keep us out. I don't need to glance at Ford to know he wants to check around back first.
Stopping halfway around the house, I squat down, and Ford follows my lead.
"Makes sense for him to leave the front door open," I whisper, "if he has the backdoor booby trapped. Make us think what we're thinking, so we'll walk into a trap."
"If I was Zombie, I'd booby-trap both doors, figuring we might have this conversation."
"So we'll burn him out."
Ford makes a run for the nearby bushes. I wait a minute to check for movement in the house. Chasing after Ford, I meet him at the Harleys. We jimmy up a few Molotov cocktails and return to Zombie's house.