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“I don’t have a concussion,” he said.
“Says you. But it’s your brain telling you that, and since your brain is possibly concussed, I’m not taking its word for it.”
He shot Judge a look. “Your woman is nuts.”
“Yeah, I know,” Judge said, not sounding the least bit upset about it.
“You don’t want to go to the hospital, fine. But you’re both crashing here tonight,” I ordered.
“Surprised we made it here without having to lay our bikes down, so sounds like a fucking plan to me,” Hollywood agreed.
“Why didn’t you call?” Judge looked pissed at them for taking the stupid risk, but there was a lot of worry underneath all the anger.
“Didn’t wanna interrupt your time with O,” Hollywood said before laughing at Judge’s furious and insulted expression. “I’m fuckin’ with you. Didn’t wanna wait around for them to regroup for round two. We were just gonna ride for a few minutes, but once we got started, figured we’d keep going.”
Stubborn and bullheaded and stupid.
Judge opened his mouth, likely to echo my thoughts with a lot more swearing and threats.
Before he could, Haze put his hand up. “Can’t yell, I’ve got a concussion. Either that, or someone’s phone is ringing.”
We all quieted and heard the soft sound before it cut off.
Judge tapped his pockets. “Must’ve fallen out…”
His words trailed off and my face heated, making it clear exactly what we’d been doing when it fell out of his pocket.
“On our couch,” Hollywood said dramatically. “I watch TV there. I’m gonna sleep there.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” Judge muttered, heading out to retrieve his phone.
Hollywood flashed me another forced smile. “I’d ask who was on top so I knew where I wanted to put my head, but I’m thinking—injured or not—he’d smash my face and you’d rip my dick off.”
“You’d be thinking right,” I said.
“Helluva woman.”
“I know.”
“You’re good for him. For each other.”
It was the first time any of the brothers had ever commented to me on our relationship—not including the occasional joke. Part of it was likely that they didn’t really give a shit beyond Judge being happy. But most was probably because they knew Judge was gonna do whatever the hell he wanted to do.
And, in that case, what he wanted to do was me.
Still, it was nice to hear Hollywood thought that.
It was also the truth, which was why I repeated, “I know.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin when a slam echoed around.
The swinging door had banged into the wall as Judge stormed in, his face like thunder.
And though they were both beat to shit, both men instantly—and wobbly—stood, ready to have his back and be pissed about whatever had set him off.
“That was Nox,” he said. “Rye’s been raided.”
“What for?” Hollywood asked.
