Page 42 of Rough Patch

Sage continued picking up. “Where’s the washing machine?” Grier pointed and bounced the baby until Sage returned. “You have puke on your back.” He circled Grier. “And in your hair.” He held out his arm again. “Look, let me take her and you can get cleaned up. Then we need to talk about some club stuff.”

“We can talk club stuff now.” But unless he wanted the neighbors to hear everything, he’d have to find a way to quiet the baby so they didn’t have to yell back and forth.

Sage looked him up and down. “I can’t take you seriously while you’re wearing enough baby puke to build another kid. Go shower.”

Grier sighed. He could use the minute to calm himself. His entire life had been thrown into a backspin yesterday and maybe the baby could sense it because as soon as he handed her to Sage, she quieted. He looked down at her, so sweet and beautiful and, thank God, quiet now. “Fine.”

And it annoyed him that Sage was right. He felt better after the shower, more ready to handle the baby at least. The rest of his life could wait.

He walked back into the living room. Sage sat on the sofa with a sandwich and London, feet on the coffee table, baby happy on his arm. “You better not have fed my kid any of that.”

“Just a couple of bites of ham.” He shrugged. “No big deal.” He handed Grier the baby and shoveled the last bite of his sandwich into his face.

“Club business?”

Sage held up one finger while he chewed then swallowed. “Word on the street is that some of the Mid-town Thugs got roughed up last night.”

Grier shrugged. “So?”

“Street also says that it was some group called the Omens.”

Again, so? “Who are the Omens?”

“Another club.” He nodded. “Tyler Sedotal’s club.”

Okay. Now Sage had his attention. “Does Fiona know?”

Sage sighed. “I’m not done.” Sage laid the story out. The Omens wanted some help from the Thugs who declined because “they don’t kill babies”.

“I have to call Fiona.” He dialed and waited for her to answer. “Can you come home? We have to talk.”

The panic in her voice rang through his head. “Is it the baby? Is something wrong?”

“No, she’s fine. I just need…” He sighed. “Can you come home?” And because he needed her to take it seriously, he added, “Please?”

“I’ll be right there.”

He probably should’ve told her not to rush or take any crazy chances with red lights, but he needed her here with him. Where he could protect his family. “Good.” He hung up before he blurted out the whole thing. He needed to get the rest of the details out of Sage and couldn’t wait for Fiona. “Tell me all of it.”

“Tyler Sedotal has something planned. And at least a part of it is about your wife and your baby. And I say it that way because this doesn’t seem to be about the club, but about you personally.”

And for the first time, it occurred to him that if Willy Carr was his father, Tyler Sedotal was his brother. “Son of a bitch.” Now he just had to figure out why his… brother… and maybe his father wanted him and his family dead.

Fiona stared at Grier. This was crazy. “How reliable is your intel?” It could have been a set-up, or a hoax or… but Grier believed it enough to call her home, to not let go of the baby.

Sage stared at her, his arms folded, his stance wide. “I feel like it’s pretty credible. What reason do they have to lie to me?”

Fiona could think of thousands of reasons and most of them had pictures of dead presidents on them. “I don’t know, Sage, but to go after a baby? That’s…” It was pretty far-fetched. No Demon would even consider hurting a baby.

“They didn’t go after London. They called me.”

“Not me, the target, or Grier.” That said a lot in her mind. But Grier laid his free hand on her shoulder and she turned to look at him. Actual fear glittered in his eyes.

“Fiona, I think we have to take this seriously until we know it isn’t.” He looked down at the baby. “You and London are all I have.” That wasn’t quite true since he had every guy at the club, Jez, even if he didn’t want her, and apparently enough respect from other clubs they’d called in their warning. But since he looked so damned already, and desperate, she let him go on. “Please, let’s just get you out of here until I can, at least, neutralize this threat.”

Normally, she would’ve never agreed. Never even considered. But a threat to her baby, even if it wasn’t real, along with the look on Grier’s face made her protest more token, less protest. “What’s it say to them, to the Demons even, if I run and hide?”

“I don’t give a fuck what it says to anybody. I need to know my wife and my baby are safe. Jesus, Fiona… please, just do this one thing without a fight, without knowing more than me. Just this once.” His words weren’t as bitter as they were fraught with emotion. Husky. Deep. A plea.