Page 80 of Misguided
TWENTY-SEVEN
Dog
We burned through the night to get back to the Lincoln compound in record time. As soon as Hooch caught wind of Digits messing with his girl, it stoked a fire in him that seems to have been lacking these past weeks on the run. The guy’s one twitch short of literally falling apart.
Which is why I snuck a text to Crackers back at the motel to let him know the good news, let him know where we were headed. Seems the southern VP is just as concerned, considering he got the whole table to haul ass and meet us up here.
I toss back the last of my whiskey and slide the empty glass over to the old lady manning the bar. The common room is quiet, the weight of recent events seeming to still weigh heavy on everyone’s mind. Mel gave up and went to bed an hour ago after she couldn’t get ten minutes alone with Hooch; the guy’s so wrapped up in his new woman I don’t even think a nuclear bomb would snap him back to the real world.
Then again, I know how that feels, don’t I?
Ever since I saw the unchecked side of Mel at that rest stop, taking our relationship to the next level is all I can think about. But the pussy in me is too worried about scaring her off if I make my intentions clear.
When I’m known for my habit of fucking without any strings attached, I’ve got my damn work cut out for me to make sure Mel doesn’t feel that I’m treating her the same way.
“Catch you fuckheads in the morning.” I give the boys a quick raise of the hand, getting nods of acknowledgment in return.
My head pounds, but for once it’s not alcohol induced. It’s the sheer panic that no matter how hard I try, or what I do, I’m going to fuck this up with Mel. That it’s just a matter of when not if.
I edge the door to my room open and slip in quietly. She doesn’t stir as I inch the door shut again, and then carefully and slowly slide my boots off. She doesn’t even budge when I forget about my phone in the pocket of my cut and send it clattering to the floor.
She doesn’t wake because she’s not even there.
I stride over to make sure my adjusting eyes aren’t playing fucking games on me and pat the bed down.
Nada.
Fuck. If I was worried before, then shit, I’m ten times worse now. Where would she be? And why?
Sticking with my T-shirt and jeans only, I hotfoot it downstairs barefoot and do a sweep of the common room. The same tired faces stare back at me.
“Lost something?” Mighty asks from his position on the sofa.
“Yeah. It’s about five foot eight and has dark hair.”
Callum shakes his head as I pass by where he’s seated at the bar. “Damn, Dog. How many times I have to tell you to look after your things?”
“Ha ha,” I drawl. “Have you seen her at all?”
Jo-Jo jerks his head toward the back deck. “Saw her go out there while you were out front earlier.”
I slam a hand to my face and groan. The whole time I was in here having a final drink, she was holed up outside. But why?
Guess we’ll find out. I storm out the back and do a sweep of the deck. Only a couple of the hangarounds with their feet kicked up on the plastic seats as they share a joint.
The grass is damp underfoot already as I drop off the deck and head toward my last guess. Sure enough, Mel’s got herself tucked up in the same spot I found her a few weeks back.
“Damn it, babe. What are you doin’?”
She huddles her knees closer to her body and rests her chin on them. “Thinking.”
“Could you do it inside, where it’s warmer?” I drop down beside her and pull her to me, although I’m pretty damn sure right at this moment, she’s probably warmer than I am.
“Being outside gives me clarity,” she says simply. “Although it doesn’t seem to be working all that great tonight.”
I place a kiss on the top of her head. “What are you thinkin’ about?”
“How quickly everything can change.” She shrugs. “When we found Hooch, I felt so good, you know. Like, I felt that everything had finally sorted itself out.”