Brothers in Arms (Kings of Mayhem MC 2)

“You’re not going to do what I ask you, are you?” I asked against her lips as we started to struggle out of our clothes.

“Not a chance,” she replied.

Our mouths parted long enough for me to pull my t-shirt over my head and for Indy to remove her shirt. The sight of her full, creamy breasts encased in her lacy bra made me painfully hard, and when she removed it and let them spill free it sent me over the edge. I pulled her back to me and took one hard nipple into my mouth, sucking it with my lips and teasing it with my tongue. She moaned and pushed her hands through my hair, her breathing coming quick.

When my phone rang, I ignored it.

But when it started ringing again, I growled and reached for it.

It was the prospect. And he was on Jacob-watch, so I answered it.

“We’ve got a situation,” he said. “Jacob discharged himself.”

The prospect had been perched outside Jacob’s room since he’d been admitted.

“Please tell me you’ve still got your eyes on him,” I said, adjusting the front of my jeans.

“He stuck a gun in my face. Told me to fuck off or he’d shoot me between the fucking eyes. So, no. I don’t have my eyes on him.”

Fuck. We didn’t want Jacob to be alone because we didn’t know what he was capable of doing. “What happened?”

“He went to the funeral home. He was inside for about ten minutes and then came storming out.” He paused and then added, “He was carrying a handbag.”

“A handbag?” A sudden realization shot up my spine. Mirabella’s belongings. “Okay, I’m on it.”

I hung up. I had to get over to Jacob’s house.

“What’s wrong?” Indy asked, already buttoning up her silk shirt.

“Jacob. He discharged himself and visited the funeral home. He left with Mirabella’s handbag.”

“Oh, hell,” Indy whispered. She put her arm on mine. “Her sonogram was in her handbag.”

“Jesus Christ!” I grabbed my car keys off the dressing table. Jacob was going to find the sonogram, if he hadn’t already, and lose his shit.

“I’m coming with you,” Indy said.

I’d learned a while ago not to fight with Indy. I’d get there sooner if I didn’t.

Twenty minutes later, we pulled into Jacob’s driveway. The shades were drawn and the front door was closed. There was no answer when I knocked, but I could smell fresh cigarette smoke coming from inside the house. When I tried the door, it opened. Jacob was sitting in a chair in the living room, a fifth of Jack Daniel’s resting between his legs. Without looking at us, he took a swig.

“Did you know?” His deep voice broke the stillness. He stared straight ahead, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

“Know what?” I asked.

He held up the piece of paper in his hand and looked at Indy.

“I found it in her handbag,” he said.

I took the paper from him. It was the sonogram. Behind me, Indy exhaled deeply.

“Is it true?” Jacob asked, looking away as he took another swig from the liquor bottle. “Was she pregnant?”

Indy stepped forward. “Jacob, I’m so sorry—”

“Is it true?” He snapped.

Indy paused and then nodded. “Yes. She was pregnant.”

Pain washed over Jacob’s face. He closed his eyes as if to brace himself against the agony, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair.

“It says she was fourteen weeks. Does that mean she knew what the sex was?”

“Yes,” Indy whispered. “She knew.”

More life seemed to drain from his face.

“Was it my son or my daughter who was murdered with her?” he asked.

Indy glanced at me but then turned back to Jacob. My girl was strong. She could handle this. “It was a girl,” she said calmly.

Jacob’s eyes closed and his chin quivered with something close to torture and rage. He took another swig of whiskey and his façade finally cracked beneath the weight of his pain, and he broke down. I took the cigarette from him and smashed it out in the ashtray, then took him by the arm.

“Come on, brother, I’m taking you home.”

He shook me off.

“I’m staying here!” he said sharply. And I could tell by the darkness in his eyes that he meant it. “I don’t want to leave. I can smell her here. I can feel her.” He collapsed back into the chair and his face crumpled again. “Out there she’s gone. But in here, in our home, she’s everywhere.”

“Then I’m staying with you,” I said.

He took another mouthful from the bottle. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“No, you don’t. But I’m staying here to help you finish this bottle.” I took it from him and drank down a mouthful. Whiskey burned its way down my throat and spread through my chest. I looked at Indy and she nodded.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and pick you up,” she said.

“No. Leave the car here. I’ll get Vader and Maverick to pick you up and escort you to and from work.” Indy wasn’t going anywhere on her own. “And I want you to stay at the clubhouse tonight, okay?”