Page 29 of Porter (Dirty Misfits MC 2)
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
We shoveled food into our faces before we got to work. And once we got into a groove, the cleaning went by in the blink of an eye. We washed all of the downstairs windows inside and out. We practically bleached the white windowsills until she sparkled and glistened in the afternoon sunlight. We took the covers off all of the furniture cushions and ran them through the washing machine, then used the carpet cleaner to clean what we couldn’t remove. The floors were scrubbed and the grout on the backsplash in the half bathroom and the kitchen was bleached. The floors twinkled with lemony freshness as we soaked the catch-all traps beneath the burners on the stove.
We even got ourselves into the oven and scrubbed it clean.
And after giving all of the downstairs walls a nice wipe-down, the damn place looked completely different.
“All right!” Josie said as she tossed her rag into the sink, “This girl needs a hot ass shower before she gets ready.”
I giggled. “And I have a few more things I want to run out and get before the stores close up for the evening.”
Josie hugged me tightly. “Drinks tomorrow night? I’m off work on Sundays.”
I squeezed her back. “It’s a date.”
I walked her back out to her car and gave her one last hug, then I stood on the porch and waved her off. I drew in a deep breath of fresh air before turning around and wrinkling my nose as the outside of the house. One of the gutters was falling off the top ridge and the vinyl needed a good pressure-washing. But other than that, this place had really withstood the test of time.
However, the ringing of my phone greeted me as I walked back inside. And when I picked it up, my plans for the evening completely shifted.
“Hello?” I asked as I picked up.
“Astrid?”
I blinked. “Who is this?”
“It’s Archer.”
I pulled my phone out to look at the number and froze when I saw it was Porter’s.
“Why are you calling from Porter’s phone?” I asked.
Archer sighed. “Look, Porter keeps asking me to call you, and I’m not sure why but I think you need to get to the compound.”
My heart dropped to my toes. “Why? What’s happened?”
“There’s been a shootout, Astrid. And Porter got shot.”
Fifteen
Porter
“Fucking hell, man, could you stab any harder?” I growled.
Cole chuckled. “Didn’t know you were such a pussy, Porter.”
I hissed again. “You were a god damn combat medic and you don’t even know how t—ouch!”
“Hey, guys! Porter’s a pussy with stitches!”
I glared at the man as he howled with laughter. But I wasn’t the only one cursing up a storm. Brooks took a damn bullet to the back of his leg and Archer was still attempting to dig some damn gravel rocks out of his fucking knee. I hated to admit it, but those little Black Flag shits fucked us up.
I just hoped that Archer called Astrid to let her know I wouldn’t be back for a while.
“What the hell happened!?”
The front door burst open and we all turned to see Chops storming into the clubhouse. I shook my head and nodded for Cole to keep stitching me up, hoping no one would answer that traitorous bastard. He didn’t deserve to know. He didn’t deserve a damn thing as far as I was concerned.
He was the one who walked out on us. He was the one that didn’t stand up for this crew. He was the one that sullied the title of “President.”
He could get shoved out of an airplane without a parachute for all I cared.
“Well!?” Chops bellowed.
Brooks scoffed. “Can’t you see? There was a shootout. Use your eyes.”
Chops growled. “Use that tone of voice with me again and see what happens.”
I craned my head over my shoulder. “I mean, you could have just used your eyes.”
Chops lunged at me and Archer hissed trying to get up on his leg. I raised up in the blink of an eye, carrying with me a determined Cole that quickly stood and continued to stitch up my arm. I wasn’t badly hurt. The bullet only grazed me. But the wound was deep enough to need stitches, according to our own personal used-to-be military medic.
And as Archer pushed Chops away, I eased myself back down into my seat.
“Anyway,” I murmured.
Finn finally spoke up. “We met up with the Black Flags and it was a trap.”
Chops scoffed. “That’s what I told you idiots! And you still went anyway!?”
I shrugged. “Not like you care.”
I could practically see the smoke coming from Chops’ ears, and I had my back to him. “Why the hell would this crew—after all it’s been through with those idiots—actively attempt to piss them the fuck off? Huh? You dick-measuring or something? Because all those assholes needed was a reason to start trampling onto our territory again.”
