He loved that woman with every ounce of his being and made damn sure she knew it. Especially over the past few months. How many times in his fifty-nine years had he heard the phrase ‘life’s too short’? Countless times. And like most people, he smiled, nodded, and forgot all about the sentiment, seconds later. Even the loss of friends and loved ones throughout the years hadn’t driven the point home. But the day he learned his wife might not live to another see birthday, the point had been driven home like a stake to the heart.
Life indeed was too fucking short. There were still countless experiences he wanted to share with Cassie. Cities he wanted to explore. Adventures they planned to embark on. And for a terrifying time, he feared she’d be ripped away from him. The grief of her diagnosis had nearly choked him, but he managed to keep it hidden for the most part.
Shit, if he didn’t stop with the pity party and get moving, he’d never make that deadline he gave Cas. Viper climbed out of his truck. Time to get this show on the road. His woman was waiting on him, and as any smart married man knew, keeping a woman waiting was a bad idea.
Five minutes later, he had the power tools Copper requested loaded in Thunder’s truck. The prospect would be heading to the clubhouse after escorting Jazmine to one of his brother’s houses. She’d been barred from her place after discovering a shocking amount of assault weapons in her shed. Everyone seemed sure Jazz’s neighbor, who also happened to prospect for the rival club, had stashed them there. What they didn’t know was how extreme retaliation would be once the Chrome Disciples Motorcycle Club found their guns missing.
Shit with the CDMC grew uglier by the day. It weighed on Viper. He loved his club to his marrow, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit his fatigue. A lifetime of one-percenter living could exhaust any man.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door to the quiet diner open. The joint had closed about an hour ago. He spotted Jazz behind the counter, and Thunder seated at it as the jangle of bells announced his presence.
“Hey, V!” Thunder said as he got up and walked over with an extended hand. “How’s Cassie?” From behind the counter, Jazz’s face broke out into a genuine smile, but dark circles under her eyes betrayed her weariness.
“She’s well.” Damn, it felt good to finally be able to say those words. Cassie’s medical team felt confident her treatment was progressing better than they’d hoped. “Really well.” He could feel the enormous grin stretch across his face.
“Fuck, that’s good to hear.” Thunder clapped him on the back. “Give her my love, okay?” Everyone adored Thunder. The guy just had this way about him. A magnetic personality few could resist.
Viper nodded. “I got those tools loaded in the back of your truck,” he said as he opened his arms for Jazz. “Copper will grab them from you at the clubhouse.”
“Got it, man.”
Jazz practically flew around the counter into his waiting embrace. She squeezed with all her might, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She’d been amazing since Cassie became sick, always offering to help, bringing by leftovers from the diner, and stopping by to cheer Cassie up on the rougher days.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said against her head. “You smell like cinnamon.”
She laughed. “No surprise there. I think it’s permanently embedded into my skin.” She pulled back and studied him as though picking through his brain. After a good thirty seconds, she must have been satisfied with what she found because she turned to the prospect. “Thunder, let me grab your food from the walk-in, then we can take off.”
“You guys hang there. I’ll grab it,” Thunder said. He practically ran into the kitchen, as comfortable in the diner as he was in the clubhouse after many months of prospecting.
Since they had a few seconds alone, Viper asked, “So, how are you holding up after yesterday?” He tried to give her his best fatherly glare, but it probably just came off as constipated. He didn’t have much experience in the parenting arena. Not like his wife, who naturally mothered every newcomer to the club be they ol’ ladies, prospects, or even the Honeys.
For a second, Jazz’s face registered shock before she shook her head and answered. “I’m doing all right. The guys got rid of the guns.” A visible shudder ran through her as the word guns fell from her lips. “I’m just hoping I can go back home soon.”
Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to be the one to make that tough call. No one would forgive themselves if they allowed Jazz back into her house only to have her end up injured, or worse. “Yeah, we just gotta make sure the CDMC isn’t going to retal—”