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Dirty Bastard (Grim Bastards MC Book 1) by Emily Minton, Shelley Springfield (27)

Boz

THE SOUND of the phone vibrating on the bedside table wakes me up. Reaching over to grab it, I see that there are three missed calls from Hoss. Shit, this conversation can’t be put off any longer. My lips find the top of Trix’s head, before I gently roll her out of my arms and climb from the bed. Doing my best to be quiet, I throw on a pair of jeans and slip a tee over my head. Once my socks are on, I slide on my boots and head to the door.

Just before I step into the hallway, I look back at where Trix is still sound asleep. Grim’s head is resting on her feet, but his eyes are trained on me. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s trying to decide what to do—stay with her or follow me.

Pointing at Trix, I issue a whispered order. “Take care of our girl, Grim.”

Satisfied that he won’t let anyone near her, I slip out of the room and head to my office. After I shut the door behind me, my legs take me right to the desk, where my chair is waiting for me. As soon as I’m comfortable, I hit Hoss’ name on my phone.

It rings twice before he answers. “I tried to call you three fucking times.”

“I was in bed,” I say, resting my feet on the top of my desk.

Suddenly, the vision of Trix’s sexy ass, lying naked in my bed, fills my mind. My dick is instantly alert, letting me know he is ready to go whenever I am. I fucked her until the sun was up, both in the shower then again in my bed. When she finally fell asleep, my dick was still deep inside her.

I can hear the flick of a lighter, before he says, “As long as my daughter wasn’t in there with you, I don’t give a shit.”

I knew this was coming. Hoss ain’t stupid. He has to know his daughter is a fine piece with a body that any man would want. What he doesn’t know is that I want her for more than just that body. Now is the time for me to tell him.

“That’s something we need to talk about,” I tell him, deciding to just get right to the point. “I plan on branding her as soon as this shit is over.”

He lets out a muttered, “fuck,” before going completely silent. Finally, he replies to me, “Do you really think I’m gonna let you claim her after this shit?”

No, I don’t. I expect him to fight me tooth and nail, but nothing he does is gonna stop me. “She’s already mine. You’ll get used to it with time.”

“You fucking bastard!” He growls into the phone. “If you hurt my girl, I’ll bury your ass so deep no one will ever find you.”

“I would lay down my life for her before I hurt her,” I reply, crossing my feet.

Hurting her is the last thing I have on my mind. Having her by my side every day and going to bed with her every night sounds a hell of a lot more fun. Spending the rest of my life sunk deep in her body sounds even better.

“Are you trying to say you love Trix? Hell, boy, you’ve only known her for a few days,” he says with a scoff.

“I’ve know her since she was just a kid,” I tell him, then go on to tell him the truth. “Can’t say I know much about love, but I like her a hell of a lot. I can’t imagine not having her here at the end of the day.”

“Fucking hell,” he grumbles, before going on. “We’ll talk about this after our shit is settled. Right now, we need to figure out what the fuck is going on. I will say, though, with all this shit going on with your club, I’m not too damn happy about you laying claim to my girl.”

My breath comes out in a rush as my thoughts go back to Trix. This shit has already affected her, but I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t touch her again. She’ll be protected at all times. Everything else could crumble around me, but my girl won’t be hurt again.

“Understood,” I reply, before deciding to give him what he’s due. “Last night, I burnt the colors off the man who said your crew took the shipment.”

“Told you we didn’t have shit to do with this,” he says, before asking, “So you found your rat?”

“I didn’t take his cut because of the shipment. He was a fuck-up that didn’t deserve to wear our colors.” I tell him some but not everything. “My boys wanted him out, and I made it happen.”

Hoss lets out a bark of laughter. “Of course, he didn’t. He isn’t gonna tell you the truth. No man would if they knew death was the only thing waiting.”

“Maybe,” I mutter, knowing that’s true.

“So, you still think my club did this shit?” he bellows into the phone.

Pulling my feet off the desk, I stand up and walk to the refrigerator. “He took a hell of a beating. You know how talented Smoke is with a pair of pliers. Crank held strong the entire time, kept saying it was your crew.”

“And you believe him?” he asks, still shouting.

“No, I don’t,” I say, wanting to make sure he knows the trouble isn’t over. “You need to know that this fucker isn’t smart enough to come up with this shit on his own. I’ve been thinking. There has to be a reason he brought your club into this shit. He could have said it was someone else.”

Hoss is quiet, but I can hear him shuffling around. After a few minutes, I hear a door shut, then he finally says, “Been thinking about that.”

“What’ve you come up with?” I ask, pulling a soda out of the fridge. I could really use a beer for this conversation, but it’s a bit too early for that shit.

“A couple of months ago, that little bastard, Torch, starting showing his face in my territory. I’d heard about the trouble you had with him, but me and the boys didn’t think a small time hustler would cause me too much trouble, so we ignored him.”

Hoss wouldn’t tell me this shit if he hadn’t had any trouble with Torch, so I ask, “What the fuck happened?”

“He started supplying my boys with meth. By the time I realized it, some of them were so far gone that I couldn’t get their asses clean,” he admits, letting out a frustrated breath. “My boys live their own lives; we don’t have any rules about drugs. Still, that shit destroys people. I ended up having to strip the cut off three of my brothers.”

“Fuck, man. Hate to hear that,” I say honestly. There’s nothing harder than taking a cut from a brother, but sometimes it has to be done. “We went through the same shit.”

“Only reason I’m telling you this shit is…” He goes silent for a second, before going on. “One of the men refused to turn over his cut. My boys tore his fucking house apart, but we couldn’t find it.”

My mind follows along, taking in what he’s saying. One of the Satan’s Revenge cuts is floating around. Any motherfucker could have his hands on it, and that should never be able to happen. When a member is lost, his cut is buried with him. If a member loses his colors, his cut is burnt. Anything else is fucking sacrilegious.

“At least tell me you dealt with the son of a bitch?” I ask him, still hating to think of any MC club losing a cut.

“Fuck yeah, but that doesn’t get our cut back,” he tells me, before blowing out a long breath. “I’m not saying that your boy was telling you the truth, but I can’t help but wondering if your boy may have seen someone in our cut that hasn’t earned it.”

I hope like hell he’s right. At least, kidnapping Trix will be justifiable. “I’ll let you know as soon as I know something.”

I’m about to hang up, when he says, “I want to talk to my girl.”

“She’s still sleeping, and I’m doubting she’ll be up any time soon,” I say with a smile.

He grumbles a threat under his breath then says, “You have her call me as soon as she wakes up.”

With that, he hangs up. My mind goes directly back to Trix, sleeping in my bed. Before I go climb back in with her, Brew comes into the office. A second later, Smoke follows him.

I drop my head. Fuck. No pussy for me.

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