Page 92 of Misguided
“Uh-huh.” Fifty-fucking-million pairs of boots, but no goddamn pack. “You wouldn’t have a gear bag I could use?”
He chuckles. “Please tell me you’re not one of those idiots who has no idea what he’s doin’?”
“I’m not one of those idiots,” I deadpan as I stand and face him. “Which is why I’m asking to borrow a bag to pack the necessary supplies in. Mine’s … misplaced.”
His eyes narrow, the suspicion evident. But he nods. “Yeah, I got something. Give me ten.”
He leaves in search of the pack, and I let out a sigh. Clearly, King’s kept his word and said nothing about the information I gave him. Being the VP, Callum’s bound to find out eventually, but I’m not ready to have that conversation yet. I’m still on a high from the thought of taking Mel hunting and picking the right time to tell her how deep I’m into her. I kind of want to save popping that balloon until we get back.
I just need this break, this getaway to put everything in perspective, and then I’m good to go.
I think.
Callum returns a few minutes later and drops a black duffle down next to the pile of clothes I’ve accumulated. “You need anything else, just ask.”
He doesn’t need to say it: he knows I need this time to myself as well. Except it’s not just me, is it?
“I’m takin’ Mel, too.”
He stares at me a moment, and for a fleeting second, I feel like a green prospect all over again.
“You’re what?”
“Takin’ Mel.”
He drags in a deep breath, scrubbing his palm from his nose to his chin. “Dude, she’s just got Hooch back, only begun to deal with the news about Judas and Dana. You really think taking her away to nothing again is a good idea?”
“She does,” I protest, stuffing clothes haphazardly into the bag. “She said herself she likes the quiet, gives her time to think.”
He huffs beside me, crossing thick forearms across his chest. “And what exactly do you imagine she’s goin’ to be thinkin’ about? Huh? How her old man and sister are gone. How her momma left her? How Hooch is all she has left?”
“Exactly,” I snap, shoving items into the bag harder than I need to. “He’s all she has left and he won’t even give her the time of day between the club bullshit we’ve got goin’ on and his new piece of ass.”
“She say that? Or is that your fuckin’ brilliant observation?” He narrows his gaze on me, head tipped back.
“She said that.” I stop my packing and sigh, running a hand through my hair. “I’ll look after her, C. You don’t need to worry about anythin’, okay?”
“It’s not just her I’m worried about,” he admits. “You remember what I said to you the night you asked me to be a part of this club?”
Yeah, I do. I remember the night as though it was yesterday, despite the fact I was fast-tracking myself to one hell of a hangover the next day. “You said that the MC life is no place to make up for your shortcomings elsewhere. That if I was joinin’ to run from my problems, I should square my shit away before I made a huge mistake.”
“Did you?”
Fucking hell.He could see through me back then and he still can now. I’m as transparent as a sheet of cling film when it comes to Callum.
“Not entirely.”
I tried. Explained to the old man years ago why I didn’t want a part of his fucking enterprise, why I wanted to carve my own unconventional path through life. Only problem is, we didn’t exactly sit down and talk about it like a couple of adults. The conversation was shouted between the sound of him crashing whatever he could lay his hands on to the floor, and me punching holes in the wall.
I definitely got one thing from my old man: a violent temper when provoked.
“Why won’t you talk to us about your background, Dog?” Callum presses. “Don’t you trust us?”
“Of course I do,” I answer him without hesitation, my trust in these men one of the only steadfast things in my life. “It’s just … things are complicated.”
“Aren’t we all?” He huffs out his nose, eyeing the half-packed bag. “I’ll give you this, but if anything feels out of place, if you get that niggle that things aren’t right, I want contact, you hear?”
“Sure.”