Page 178 of I Will Revel in Glory (Death by Daybreak MC 3)
And what a pair they make.
“Sons of Anarchy.” As soon as I say it, he looks back at me with an expression dripping with disdain. “What? I didn’t say I liked it.” I slurp more of my juice and then lean my head back against the couch cushions, the fingers of my left hand teasing the husky’s silky fur. He lifts his head up and sniffs the air, just to make sure that everything’s still okay.
I’m guessing he’s this clingy because of the baby.
Miracle beyond miracles, I’m still pregnant.
Apparently, I had what’s called a subchorionic hematoma. Like I said, I don’t speak hospital, but apparently that means you bleed from your vagina and have bad cramps, but it isn’t overly serious. No thanks to Alvise. If Grey hadn’t killed him, I’d have gone on a mission to find him and torture him every day for a decade.
Prick.
I think about Ivan Wolfe picking Grey up off the floor and carrying him out of the barn. Apparently, he’s been on Grey’s side all along. Him, and that doctor guy. What was his name? Tommaso Setola. Pretty sure they poisoned any dissenting voices in the organization after Grey took over from his father … Anyway, I never get straight answers out of Grey so who knows?
So long as the mafia isn’t causing the club problems, I don’t care.
What’s interesting is that Grey now wears an eyepatch—just like his father. He won’t let me see what’s underneath, but he says that he can still see out of his right eye. I have no idea if it’s just a vanity thing or a trauma response or what, but if he doesn’t want to show it to me, I won’t press him.
“Please don’t ever put Sons of Anarchy on when I’m the room,” Crown suggests, standing up and wiping his hands on his jeans. He offers me up a genuine smile to soften his words. “I’d much rather watch more of those old-school slasher films you’re so obsessed with.”
“What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.” My words are lighthearted, but my soul is dark and heavy. I don’t want it to be. This is a whole new life for me. New house, new relationships, new baby.
Grey is alive. Reba is doing great—she’s always loved studying scripture so … cool for her, I guess. Trevone Hundley invited me to prom when we ran into each other at the grocery store and ended up with Sin scowling at him over my shoulder. That was fun.
But Nellie is struggling and needs help. The secret of Gaz’s death sits heavy on my shoulders. And without Cat, the world just looks a little different.
I pull my phone from my pocket, hooking it up to Crown’s Bluetooth speakers.
I select a song from Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons. “December, 1963 (Oh, What a Night)” starts to play. It was one of Cat’s favorite songs. I know that because when I was little, I’d hear it playing in the garage of our shitty old house while he was on his back, tinkering with his bike.
“God,” I groan, putting my hand to my forehead. You should see the way all four of those men lean in toward me, like they’re afraid I’m going to break. They should know me better than that. If this life hasn’t broken me yet, I don’t think it ever will. There’s nothing I can’t handle. Doesn’t mean it can’t hurt me like hell though, stab me right in the heart and make me ache like I’m coming apart at the seams. “I miss him. I miss him so bad. I thought I’d be glad he was dead. But not I’m not. Not even close.”
“Your daddy loved you, suge. He certainly wasn’t perfect, but he loved ya. That’s for damn sure.” Beast presses his thumb into the arch of my foot, and I groan again. Can’t help it. It just feels so fucking good.
“He was abusive toward you,” Sin agrees with a long sigh. “But you were the love of his life. You and your mom.” He looks down at his lap. “You know, it’s probably for the best that it happened this way. He was really struggling after Gaz’s death. I’m not sure that he would’ve been okay in the long run.”
That thought makes me even sadder, so I push it aside. I make myself remember that day in his office when he clamped me on the shoulder. “Nice work last night. You sure are a ruthless bitch. Can’t wait to see the nightmare of a grandchild that you pop out.” That was a defining moment for us.
Although we never quite got the father-daughter talk that I wanted, I’m glad that I was able to tell him what I needed to say. In the end, I got an I love you and that was a lot coming from him.
