White Heat (Lost Kings MC #5) (17 page)

“When we were on a break?” I ask before they change subject. I can’t help wondering why Rock’s never mentioned his mentor and why he doesn’t visit him more often.

“Which one?” Z snickers.

Wrath shoots him a dirty look. “Phone.”

Pulling my legs up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them and prop my chin on my knees. The soft flannel of my pants feels good, and I must be high, because I end up rubbing my face over the material. “You guys must think I’m a real bitch, huh? Here’s Rock’s giving up all this free pussy and I’m giving him a hard time over a phone?”

Wrath laughs so hard he jostles Trinity around. “His own fucking fault.”

Z bobs his head up and down. “We told him women like you—”

“What do you mean women like me?”

Trinity sits up watching Z intently and he falters. I think he realizes whatever he’s about to say will insult one of us.

“What he means is, women who aren’t familiar with MCs,” Wrath explains.

Trinity pats him on the chest. “Oh, good save, Wrecking Ball.”

“Thank you. Anyway, what was the conversation he had with you about the phone, Hope?”

“He didn’t.”

“Right.” Wrath points at Z.

“Here’s Hope’s phone, install a tracking app for me,” Z repeats.

Wrath nods. “You’re a reasonable girl. All he had to do was explain—”

“Yes!” I say a little louder than I meant to. “Thank you.”

Wrath turns to Trinity. “What did I say to you, babe?”

She grins. “Give Z your phone so he can stick a tracker in it, just in case, babe,” she says in a lousy imitation of Wrath’s deep rumbly voice.

“Exactly. Rock’s conversation with you would have needed to be about five minutes longer.” He holds up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air to emphasize his point.

“Rock does what Rock thinks is best,” Z says.

“And it gets his ass in trouble,” Wrath snickers.

Trinity shakes her head. “You guys are mean.”

Suddenly the conversation weighs on me. “Seems insignificant now. I’d let him stick a tracking collar around my
neck
this minute, if it meant he’d be home.”

The guys stop and stare at me.

“For fuck’s sake, Hope, don’t give these cavemen any ideas,” Trinity snaps.

“Somehow, I missed all of that,” Murphy says after we all stop laughing at the girls.

I have a sneaking suspicion I know the answer to my next question, but curiosity forces me to ask anyway. “Hope, I gotta ask. How did you two end up resolving that?”

Z opens his mouth and I can see the “pussy whipped” comment forming so I cut him off. “I want to know if my guess is right.”

Her cheeks turn pink and she glances away before answering. “Rock gave me the same thing.”

I raise an eyebrow for her to add some detail.

“He gave me the same tracking app, but made me promise to never, ever come looking for him. If I was worried to let you guys know.” Her big green eyes seem to plead with me not to be upset with her man. And I’m not. I understand why Rock would do something like that and trust his judgment.

Trinity sits up a little straighter. “Hey. Where’s mine?”

“On your phone, angel. You should pay better attention.”

She smacks her hand against my chest and settles back down, rubbing her forehead against my cheek.

Z’s dying to bust on someone and since I ruined his fun, he turns his mischief-making face on Murphy. “Weren’t we busting your balls?”

“Bust away, asshole.”

Teller wanders in while we’re still chuckling at Murphy’s expense. He scrubs his hands over his face and looks us all over. “What the fuck you all doing up?”

“Pull up a chair.” Z’s laughing so hard he can barely get any words out. “We’re filling first lady in on what a chubby little fucker Murphy was.”

Teller snorts and pulls out the chair across from Murphy. His eyes go to me and Trin briefly, then Hope. “They’re exaggerating, Hope. He was husky not chubby.”

Everyone at the table bursts out laughing.

Hope giggles like a little girl and I’m glad we cheered her up, even if it’s only for a few minutes. “Gosh, you two
are
brothers.”

Teller and Murphy grin at each other. “Fuck yeah,” Teller says. “I kept bitching at my mother to give me a little brother for years. When she got pregnant with Heidi, I was like what the fuck is this shit? I asked for a brother.”

Murphy snorts and shakes his head. “What’d you want her to do, put an order in?”

“Dude, I was ten. What the fuck did I know? Anyway, there’s this chubby little ginger getting the shit kicked out of him one day, so I wander over, beat the snot out of the two punks harassing him and found my own little brother.”

“He told his mom that too,” Murphy says.

“I did. I was like I got this. You can give Heidi back.”

Hope’s laughing so hard she almost falls out of Rock’s chair. “Very proactive, Teller, I like that.”

“Of course that’s not what happened. And my mother was such a space cadet that I ended up taking care of Heidi more often than not, which meant Murphy did too.”

Murphy nods. “Yeah, she was like the size of a loaf of bread the first time I ever saw her.” Dumbass uses his hands to demonstrate something between the size of a football and bale of hay.

“Awww,” Hope coos and I roll my eyes. She’s such a softy.

“Christ, if I’d known she was gonna be such a holy terror, I would have insisted she give her back,” Teller says affectionately.

I snort. “Please, you love that little brat.”

“Of course I do.”

“You’ve had a lot of responsibility since you were little.” Hope looks at each of us. “You all have.”

“That’s how I started doing jobs for the club. Rock would pay me to run stupid errands and stuff. I needed money for shit for Heidi or whatever, and he’d always have something for me to do.”

“And you were always trying to talk him into letting you take his—”

Teller cuts Z off with an excited head shake. “Hope, he had this classic kickstart ’76 Super Glide. Rock’s rule was—”

Murphy groans, but the two of them say it together. “If you can’t kickstart your bike, you’re not allowed to ride it.”

I doubt Hope knows what to make of any of it, but she’s smiling as she listens to the two of them reminisce. “What happened to it?” she finally asks.

Teller flicks his gaze at me, unsure of how to answer. “Carla sold it behind his back when he went inside,” I end up explaining.

“Oh. He told me she sold it. I didn’t realize it had been a classic—”

“Wasn’t worth shit,” Z interrupts. “Mid-AMF years. It was more sentimental value. Rebuilt that Shovelhead himself and worked on every inch of that ride.”

Teller groans. “I spent a lot of afternoons fetching him all the shit for that rebuild.”

Z snorts. “Teller wouldn’t take charity, even when he actually needed it. Preferred to earn every penny.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I add.

“It’s an attractive quality in a man,” Hope says and we all turn our heads her way. “What? It is.”

Trinity yawns and pushes herself upright. “Not if they work so much they have no time for you.”

“Trying to tell me something, Angel Face?”

She settles back down, laying her cheek against my shoulder and squeezes her arms around me. “Nope.”

Z shrugs. “None of us are slouches. Fuck, I was working for my dad’s landscaping company when I was shorter than the fucking mowers he had me pushing.”

“Jeez, really?” Hope asks with wide eyes. I know Rock’s told me she had it tough growing up too, but sometimes she really does give off a pampered princess vibe.

“Fuck, yeah,” Z answers. He opens his mouth to say something else, then shakes his head.

Hope hums an affirmative sound and by the way her eyelids keep drooping, it seems all the wrench talk is about to put her to sleep.

“Wanna go upstairs, Hope?” I ask.

“No, I like listening to you guys. Keep talking.”

Across the table, Z’s watching her doze off with a smile on his face. In my lap, Trinity’s half-asleep herself.

When it looks like the girls are out, I lift my chin at Murphy. “Everything okay on your rounds?”

“Yeah. All good. Z changed the code for the front gate too, so we gotta let the others know.”

“Okay.”

Teller glances at Hope, then me. “How’d it go today?”

“It fucking sucked. Why do you think I’m down here at three a.m. downing a bottle of scotch and she’s high as a fuckin’ kite?”

“Sorry,” Teller mutters.

Jesus, I actually feel bad for snapping at Teller. “No. It’s just—he said everything’s fine. But I know Rock. He wouldn’t say if there was a problem in front of Hope. I hate him being unprotected in there. He can handle himself. But guards fuck with him, there ain’t a lot he can do but take it right now.”

Hope sort of moans in her sleep, and Z puts his finger to his lips. “Watch what you say, brother,” he warns me.

Normally, I’d flip him off, but he’s right. Like the girl doesn’t have enough awful shit in her head right now.

Teller stands and stretches. “I fuckin’ hate this. I want to do something for him, but I don’t know what.”

“You are, just by helping out,” Z says. He tips his head toward Hope. “We all know keeping her safe’s his biggest concern, so when she starts giving us shit for escorting her everywhere, use your Teller charm on her, okay?”

Teller grins. “That only works on chicks I wanna fuck.
She’s
like a big sister.” He fake-shivers “Gross.”

Z shakes his head at him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m gonna start my rounds, unless you guys need me here?”

“Nah, go ahead,” I say.

Murphy lifts his chin. “I won’t be able to sleep for a while, I’ll go with you, T.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Wake Ravage when you get back. His lazy ass needs to do a few rounds too,” I remind them on their way to the front door.

“You got it,” Murphy calls out.

Glancing down, I brush a few strands of hair off Trin’s face. She’s so still, I almost want to shake her. Only her soft warm breath drifting over my skin stops me.

“She okay?” Z asks.

“Yeah. She wanted to see Rock too, but I didn’t know how to pull it off, ya know?”

“Maybe Hope can take her down one day. One of us will wait outside.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Honestly, I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Don’t want Trinity visiting Rock in jail to stir up bad memories about her dad’s time inside. Last thing my girl needs.

Taking another look at Hope, she looks awfully uncomfortable with her head thrown back against the chair at a weird angle. “Maybe we should lay her out on the couch?”

Z shrugs. “I’ll take her upstairs.”

“Okay,” I answer.

Now, if Rock were here, he’d whap Z upside the head with his caveman club. But he ain’t here and we’re all just trying to take care of each other best we can.

I’m surprised to be in my own bed the next morning. It takes me a few minutes to orient myself since I don’t remember coming upstairs last night. For the first time in a couple days, a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Listening to the guys’ stories last night somehow made me feel closer to Rock. Even if today I’m forced to wake up alone. I enjoyed hearing all the good things he’s done for the people he considers his family.

Once we figured out which jail Rock was being held at—and oh my God, I still can
not
believe Rock’s in jail—I memorized the visitor’s schedule. Even attorneys are only allowed to go in at certain times. I know if I go too often the guards will be suspicious. And of course, Glassman does actually need to meet with Rock. So today, I’m not allowed to go.

And I hate it.

I can’t stand not being able to send him texts to see what he’s up to. Every time I try to picture him or wonder what he’s doing, all I see is that horrid orange jumpsuit and handcuffs. All I think about is how much he hates being caged up and how awful it must be for him to have no say over anything.

Good grief. If I don’t get up and get dressed, I’ll end up crawling under the covers and crying myself into a coma. Nope. I need to be strong. I told Glassman I’d do some research on bail hearings and research whether we need to appeal the decision to a higher court. I plan to head to Adam’s office after breakfast and wonder which lucky brother will tag along.