The restaurant had been left in shambles.
And Viper had died.
He rubbed his chest as though it would relieve the ache Viper’s absence created.
As Screw waited for Thunder to process what he’d said, he kept an arm across Gumby’s shoulders. Every few seconds, Screw unconsciously played with the hair at the nape of Gumby’s neck.
Once again, Thunder’s stomach clenched, and this time, his chest constricted as well.
Maybe he did need to see a fucking doctor. Did heart disease run in his family? Fuck if he knew. STDs sure ran in his family, but those came from being whores, not genetics.
“Yeah,” he said, flattening his palms on the table instead of giving in to the urge to press a fist to his chest. “I’m up on all that. What of it?” Suddenly, his omelet looked like one deadly hardened artery on a plate, so he shoved it to the center of the table.
“Well, we got word that the cops closed the case—straight-up lack of evidence. No one can find Jeremy. Looks like the fucker took off after he blew this place up,” Screw said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Chicken shit.”
“Yep.”
The day came back to him in a rush. The way Viper had told him he’d keep Jazz safe and that Thunder should chase down Jeremy. The way Viper had failed to mention he planned to throw his body over Jazz’s right there in the diner, saving her, but getting his heroic fucking ass mortally wounded in the process.
Fuck, his chest couldn’t take many more of these twinges.
He’d successfully caught up to Jeremy about a quarter mile from the diner as the fucker fled for his life. Damn, it would have been sweet to be in the room when Screw pulled the trigger on that guy. He owed that to Viper at the very least. If only he’d been patched in at the time.
He’d told all the guys not to worry about him. He was handling that shit fine, but truth be told, he’d had a few fucking nightmares where he was going about his typical day, and one of his brothers exploded right before his eyes.
Fuck, not the time for that shit. “So what do you need from me?” he asked before clearing his throat. Anything to keep from falling down the rabbit hole of bad memories.
“Got word that the CDMC will be celebrating this weekend. Getting rid of the pigs on their backs means time to party.”
“And what? You want eyes on the place?” He’d jump on any chance to be involved in eliminating the CDMC. Maybe then, he’d be able to rid his mind of the gruesome image of Viper’s lifeless body. It had only been through sheer force of will he’d been able to enter the diner at all once the remodel had been complete, and each time he did, he had a moment of panic before stepping inside. Fuck yeah, he’d take on this task.
Screw nodded as he lifted Gumby’s coffee cup to his lips. “Exactly,” he said after taking a sip. “Knew you were quicker than you look.”
With a roll of his eyes, Gumby slid the mug back in front of himself. “You can’t insult the guy if you’re trying to get him to do you a favor. And why the hell do you always decline coffee if you’re just gonna drink mine?”
“Well, I called it a favor, but I was lying. It’s an order,” Screw said, with a smirk for Thunder and a kiss for Gumby’s cheek.
Thunder grunted as he folded his arms across his chest. No surprise there. Screw was about a subtle as a bull.
“And I swipe your coffee because it tastes like you.” He winked at Gumby whose gaze seemed to heat at the words.
“You do like the way I taste, don’t you?” Gumby asked, his voice dropping a few octaves.
“Damn straight. Love the way Jazzy tastes too. Man, she went nuts when—”
Ohh, this is getting good.
Gumby cleared his throat and widened his eyes in Thunder’s direction, which made Screw turn a scowl his way.
“What?” Thunder asked with a shrug. He tried to mash his lips together but couldn’t keep the smirk from creeping across his face. “Don’t pipe down on my account. I’d love to know what you two dirty dogs did to Jazzy last night. Or did you say this morning?”
Screw flipped him off again.
“Oh, come on, man, you used to be so much more fun before you went and put a shackle around each of your legs,” he said around a laugh.
All that did was earn him another middle finger.
“Just tell me if you’re in, fucker.”
“Of course, I’m in. Whatever you need.” He drained his coffee. “All kidding aside. You name it, I’m there. Any time, any place. Especially if it involves those fuckers.”
Screw held out a fist. “Know it, brother. Feels good to call you that.”