Battle Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 3)

Her eyes widen. “Everything! How did I never notice that children are so noisy? And that they run in front of you all the time? Oh my God, and don’t get me started on the people who push in line. I nearly smacked an old lady out today for being so rude. Seriously, of all the things I ever thought I’d go to ja

il for, I never thought it would be for knocking an old lady out. That “respect your elders” rule doesn’t apply when they’re being rude. Manners shouldn’t disappear when you get old.”

“That’s your new rule?”

“Yep, that’s how I’m living my life from now on.” She frowns. “Are you at home? I thought you’d be living at the clubhouse this week.”

Birdie flew to Sydney five days ago to spend the week before Christmas with her mum, and I arrived home from Brisbane last night. I’ve got a shipment coming in from Torres to receive, and I need to take care of some other club business here. And since we’re not having any luck locating Bourne in Brisbane, handling stuff here at least makes me feel useful. I spent the morning at the clubhouse, and left there just after 2:00 p.m. to come home and do the mowing. I want to tidy up the yard so it’s not a jungle when we get home after Christmas.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’m about to do the mowing.”

“Oh, shit,” she says. “I forgot to tell you that Maddox does the mowing now.”

I arch my brows. “Because?”

“Because he needs the cash so he can take his girlfriend out on dates. They’ve just started seeing each other, and I really want to help him out. You should see how happy he is because of her.”

Birdie’s eyes have lit up like I haven’t seen them light up in too fucking long. Christ, did I miss the moment they first lit up again while I’ve been knee-fucking-deep in club shit? She’s been telling me about her time with Maddox, but I’m not sure I’ve been paying proper attention.

“Okay, so when’s he coming to do it? And do I need to pay him?”

“I’ve already paid him. He should be by this weekend.”

“You pay him in advance.” It’s not a question, and not even a statement. It’s more an I-should-have-known observation, because that’s my wife: always looking out for others when they’re in need.

She smiles and bites her lip. “Well, actually, I’ve paid him a few times in advance. He really needed some new boots.”

Fuck, I love her. Birdie’s the kindest, most giving person I know.

“So,” she says, “I know you said you can only stay two nights here for Christmas, but I was wondering if you could push that to three?”

“No. I can’t.” I’ve tried to make that happen, but there’s no way I can swing it.

I can tell by the way the light filters out of eyes that I’ve disappointed her. “I understand.”

The sound of another call coming in draws my attention. When I see Torres’s number on the screen, I say to Birdie, “Sorry, angel, but I have a call I need to take. I’ll call you back.”

“No, don’t. We’re about to leave to go see a movie. I’ll call you tonight.”

“Okay. Have a good time.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

When Birdie ends the call, I flick across to answer Javier’s call.

“Torres. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you until tomorrow.”

“Something’s come up. We need to meet today.”

Every instinct I have is suddenly on high alert. “What’s going on?”

“I have some information for you. Are you free now? I can meet you at the usual spot in half an hour.”

“I’ll be there.”

The phone goes dead and I stare at it. What the fuck is going on?