Doin' A Dime (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 4)

“I hate them,” he grumbled as he pressed his forehead against mine. “I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.”

“I hate them, too,” I told him. “I think it’s time to go now.”

He growled. “Do you have clothes to change into in your purse?”

He’d suggested I get them, so of course I had some. I did listen to instructions very well.

“Yes.”

He let me go, and I sank a little bit, some of the vomit floating off of me and into the pool around me.

The pool that the children were still swimming in without a care in their little worlds.

Must be nice.

Because I was seriously shaken to my core.

Hunt tugged at my hand and I reluctantly pulled myself from the pool.

My brand new shoes were gone, and my legs looked like I’d traipsed through thorns…

Which, now that I thought about it, I’d actually done.

“Lovely,” I said as I looked down at all the blood that was coating those scratches.

CHAPTER 10

I find myself using the word ‘shitshow’ significantly more than I used to.

-Hunt to Wyett

HUNT

My heart was still thundering.

I’d been watching for Wyett to come back out and trying to ignore my sister’s talking about how ‘unsuitable’ she was for me when I’d seen her gaze go to the pool as she came out the door.

Her face went from annoyed to confused to horror-stricken in the span of a few seconds.

The moment that she started running, I pushed all three of my sisters out of the way in my haste to get to the pool myself.

It took me all of ten seconds to ascertain what was going on, but by the time that I got to the pool and jumped in, Wyett already had my nephew—one that I’d never met until today—in her arms and she was holding him to her.

My heart was steadily pounding away, unaware that there was no other danger to be had.

After she gave up my nephew, my brain still felt foggy.

Foggy until I pulled her into my arms and curled her into me as she cried.

It was then that I realized the importance of her coming to me for comfort.

Vaguely I heard my mother say something about how awful Wyett looked in her wet clothes, and my ire began to rise.

That fucking bitch.

Seriously, she was the biggest bitch of them all.

Gathering my girl closer, I asked her a question, listened to an answer, and helped get her out of the pool.

But all the while, my focus was on how bitchy my sisters were being in that instance.

“Grab your bag and head into the house. Go up the stairs and get a shower and wash off. I’ll be up there after I grab a change of clothes from my car,” I urged, glad that I’d insisted on having the clothes just in case we did end up getting dirty.

Because it was inevitable.

I came home, and my parents were going to have me doing something that caused me to get dirty in some way.

The sprinkler system wasn’t working—oh, Hunt can fix it.

Computer’s acting up—he can tear it apart and fix it for you in no time, even though you haven’t dusted it in eight years.

There seems to be some sort of leak with the pool. Can you take a look at it?

Seriously, I should’ve known years ago that this entire fucking thing was a farce of epic proportions.

I didn’t know why I kept coming here.

But after today? I wouldn’t be coming back.

I’d be blocking all their phone numbers and barring them from my life on top of that in every way.

I just couldn’t anymore.

They were assholes.

My wife had just saved their blood family’s life, and they couldn’t even thank her.

Hell, that poor kid was standing by the edge of my sister’s chair, looking pitiful, while Willa chatted away about all the M&M’s that were scattered across the floor that Wyett had dropped.

Gritting my teeth, I pulled out my phone, thankful that I had it in a waterproof case, and placed a call.

“Hunt? Is that really you?” my brother-in-law, Phil, answered. “How the hell are you, man?”

I ungritted my teeth.

Out of all of my brothers-in-law, Phil was actually one of the better ones.

“Your wife decided to trash my wife for the last hour, chose to whisper like a catty bitch instead of watch your kid, and he nearly drowned in the pool. The two-year-old. My wife saved him from drowning, but now your poor kid looks like he’s about to cry at any second and Willa’s too busy bitching about how fat she thinks my wife is to notice or care,” I said without preamble. “Now, I’m not sure if you trust someone to watch your kid who nearly let him drown, but I felt like you needed to know.”

Phil’s curse was succulent.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said. “Holy fucking shit.”