Page 22 of Rough Patch

“Not in a while.” Fiona was failing Wife 101. She couldn’t even get her husband to open his mouth and put food in it.

“All right. I’ll go to the store and stock up.”

Hamilton dropped a hand on Fiona’s shoulder. “I’m going in, but I hope you know, I’m only doing this for you.” He ducked through the doorway and made his way to the same spot Sage had sat. “It’s not your fault.”

When Grier failed to move, he looked at Fiona, and she widened her eyes, twirling her hands in the universal sign for keep going. She’d tried everything already and wouldn’t blame Hamilton if he gave up, but he sighed and turned back to Grier. If he could fix her husband, Fiona was going to owe him so big.

“You should’ve checked the boxes. True. And the guys wouldn’t be dead if you did. Also true.” He shook his head and squeezed Grier’s shoulder in one meaty hand. “You were the guy in charge. It’s on you.”

What the hell? “Hamilton.” But he held up his hand, and she stayed in her spot. She put her fist against her mouth, closed her eyes and hoped he had a direction he was heading.

“And every man followed you, knowing the danger, because they wanted to be there. They followed you, Grier, and no one is questioning you now.” Hamilton chuckled a little. “Shit like this happens in our line of work. It’s part of who we are. We take risks that could end us anytime. And those guys died to be Demons. They died for you and for what they believed was the right thing. Not a damned one of them had to go with you that night.” He cleared his throat, and Fiona wondered if he was choked up or thirsty. Probably thirsty. Hamilton wasn’t the kind of guy who let his emotions run with him. “And you lying here wallowing is not how we need to be honoring our brothers.”

Good one. She hadn’t thought to use guilt.

“What do you expect me to do? I killed them.”

She hadn’t heard his voice in days and now it washed over her and apparently the baby who kicked her in her ribs. She put a hand over the spot.

“No, this was a job that went wrong. Jobs do that.” Fiona had never seen Hamilton so gentle, so soft. “We can’t fix this, Grier, but we can make sure nothing happens to Fiona and the baby, that the guys who died get their justice. Demon justice.”

Grier glanced up. He needed to shave, kind of. The shadow of beard was sexy enough, Fiona could get used to it. It would take hours of conditioner to get the knots out of his hair, but to Fiona, he’d never looked better. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “How?” He wasn’t asking Hamilton, but Fiona.

The plan wasn’t set yet. Not even close. They’d kicked around ideas, but without good intel, and they had none, beyond sitting in the clubhouse, cleaning guns, loading clips, and spending a lot of time at target practice, there wasn’t anything they could set in concrete. Plus, the cops were around a lot now. They’d hauled everyone from Fiona to the lowliest Wall Kat in for questioning. But when the Screaming Demons put up a wall of silence, it was impenetrable. Thank God.

The money they were spending in lawyer fees was enough to break them when it went along with the missing shipments that had gone up in flames, the replacement trucks, and funeral expenses. Fiona didn’t know what she’d do if she lost one of her guys, or Grier, to jail.

“I don’t know, yet.” She crossed into the living room, her throat thick and her eyes wet. “But we can’t do it without you. We can’t…” She sat beside him and put her head on his shoulder, hoping the shift in his body wasn’t him trying to shake her off.

Her smile, for Hamilton, was shrouded in tears, and he nodded at her before he turned to Grier. “When you’re ready, hopefully soon, we need you back. We need to work out what to do.”

Grier nodded. “I’m ready.”

The cocked eyebrow, half-smirk, and slight offset of his head was the most expression Hamilton ever put forth. “Maybe shower first. Do something with that girlie hair of yours, then you’ll be ready.” When Grier nodded, Hamilton winked at Fiona. “And when you come in, don’t worry. We all have your back.” He held out his hand. “Brother.”

Grier nodded and shook Hamilton’s hand. “Thanks.”

Emotions she hadn’t let touch her since this all began caught Fiona’s breath and brought tears, as she nestled closer to Grier. For the first time, she allowed herself to acknowledge that it could’ve been him who had died, could’ve been him whose body she had to identify. These last few days, when he’d been caught up in his feelings, she’d kept hers locked down, but the sadness and loneliness had always been like a little gnat, flittering at the back of her mind. But imagining him gone, out of reach where she couldn’t even look at him, forced a lump into her throat, and a sob shook her shoulders. The guys who’d died had been friends, men she’d grown up around or ones who’d come later, guys who relied on her father then her to make sure they had money, and booze, and a measure of safety and brotherhood. She felt their loss, and it hurt, but losing Grier would kill. Even if he wouldn’t or couldn’t comfort her now.

She put her arm across his stomach and buried her head in the curve of his shoulder.

“I love you.” He didn’t hug her or even acknowledge the words, but she felt better for saying them.

He pushed off the blanket and stood. “I should go get cleaned up.”

Fiona watched him walk away, hoping her husband was back, knowing he wasn’t.

* * *

Grier leaned his forehead against the wall and let the water rush over him. At least the sobbing had subsided. Of course, so had the hot water.

“Can I come in?”

Ordinarily, before, he would have been happy to let Fiona join him, but now, knowing how badly he’d let everyone down, he just wanted to be alone. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay. Um, well, Jez made lunch and if you don’t come out and eat, she’s threatening to have Hamilton try to force-feed you so… um, hurry, okay?” He’d put the uncertainty in her voice, made her doubt him and it was killing him. And probably her. The best thing he could do would be to leave, let her find someone else. The thought of not coming home to her, not having her to hold, made his heart ache, but what else could he do? If he left, Sedotal would come after him, would leave her alone. Everyone, Fiona, Jez, the club, would be safer without Grier bringing all this death and destruction that seemed to be following him.

“Yeah.”