“His wife said it’s a nickname since he’s an auto mechanic, Sister.” Matthew still trying to be the Schmidt family whisperer.

“Rev your engine,” Reilly explained weakly next to him, still gripping his elbow.

“That’s not an appropriate name,” she said sharply. “What kind of name is that?”

“One I chose and you did not.”

Her head snapped back and her words became extra crispy, just like he liked his fucking fried chicken. “We gave you the perfectly good name of Michael, the archangel. The great protector and leader of God’s army to defeat the forces of evil. But you have become one of them, haven’t you?” Disappointment filled his mother’s face. There was the mother he used to know and tried to love. “You have chosen the wrong path. I always knew you would. I knew you would never grow up and be worthy of that name.” She sniffed. “Maybe it’s better you don’t use it.”

He hadn’t used it since he was ten. He insisted all his friends call him Mickey. Only his parents, his extended family and the members of their church used the name Michael. Or Brother Michael.

He hated it. He even stopped answering to that name in school. The teachers finally relented and began to call him Mickey, too.

He kept that name until Trip rolled into town and resurrected the Bloody Fury. When he became a prospect, they called him Mouse, a stupid play on the name Mickey. And once he was patched in, he got to decide for himself. Dutch said the name Mickey was for a pussy and he needed a more manly road name.

One day at the garage he was revving an engine and Dutch decided to bitch about it. The more he bitched, the more Rev gunned the engine. That was when the idea to use the road name Rev popped into his head. Rev not only liked it but knew it would annoy Dutch, so it stuck.

“The devil has always been inside you. We tried to remove you from his clutches. We tried to help you but you resisted us at every turn. Starting when you were very young. If I told you to look up, you looked down. If I told you to turn left, you turned right. If I told you to keep your Sunday clothes clean, you purposely got them dirty. Pure evil.”

Reilly’s grip moved from his elbow to his wrist and she tugged. “We should go, Rev.”

“Didn’t do what I came here to do. Not leaving ’til that’s done,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off his mother and the item in her hand.

Instead of asking about his intentions, his mother rushed back across the kitchen with the wooden spoon, making Rev’s head snap up, his spine stiffen and his breath seize.

He couldn’t help but close his eyes as he braced to feel the pain associated with that familiar tool of punishment. Usually used when he said something out of line in the kitchen while she was cooking. Or when he wasn’t moving fast enough while setting the table or washing the dishes. Or when he tried to sneak some food.

But instead of feeling the impact of the spoon, Reilly’s grip was torn from his arm. He opened his eyes to see his mother tightly holding Reilly’s left hand.

He saw what his mother saw. No wedding band on Reilly’s finger.

“Traveling with a woman who’s unmarried. Who also bears a mark.” His mother dropped Reilly’s hand and swept her hair away from her scar, staring at it for far too long. “The devil’s mark.”

Reilly yanked her head away, pulling her hair free from his mother’s fingers. “That’s right. That mark was made by a devil. One who died for his sins,” Reilly said sharply.

Rev grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers, pulling her back into his side. “Didn’t bring her here for you to insult her.”

“You shouldn’t have brought that jezebel here at all. You have dishonored us and this home by allowing an unclean woman into my house. Uninvited.”

“We were invited,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Sister, he says they’re married and are blessed with four children.”

“Then she bore those poor children out of wedlock. I see no commitment band on her finger. That means she’s available for any man. She’s not committed to her husband.”

It was laughable, judging children who didn’t exist. Judging Reilly and Rev’s relationship when there wasn’t one.

“It’s what you don’t see that matters most,” Rev said, making a point that his mother probably wouldn’t pick up on.

“You always thought you knew better than your parents. But the truth is, if you did, you wouldn’t have come here. You would’ve stayed wherever you came from.”

“I’m happy to see you, too, Mother. And now I will go see the person I came here for.”

Rev spun on his boot and tugged Reilly with him out of the kitchen, hearing his mother’s words in his wake. “He doesn’t want you here, either.”

Tags: Jeanne St. James Blood Fury MC Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net