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My trouble antenna twitched, and I swapped glances with Ace, who was typing on his phone. No doubt he was tapping Mac for a search on my neighbour.
“Interested?” Gauntlet murmured, and I sent him a dark look.
“Told you, brother, no woman would touch me with my past, and who’d blame them? Wanting something out of my reach isn’t a life I want to live,” I replied.
Lex and Apache both sent me a scowl, but I ignored them. They were lucky; they got their dreams and rightfully held on tightly to them.
Their life wouldn’t be mine, though. Even now, my background was out in the public eye. Documentaries and TV shows had been made about it; it was a joke comedians loved to use and something that would always haunt me. I’d lived half my life, and the fucked-upness followed me still.
I lifted my head as Grace rose to her feet, thanking everyone for their support as she gathered Isla and Harper to her. With a nod in my direction, Grace left, and as soon as she was through the gates, the old ladies congregated together in a huddle.
“That doesn’t bode well,” Drake noted, tilting his beer towards them.
“No shit. Looks like they’ve found a new project,” Apache agreed, his eyes on Silvie. He straightened and placed his empty bottle down. “She’s tired. We’re going to leave.”
Apache strode over, bent down, and whispered in Silvie’s ear. She shook her head, but there was no energy in it. Apache gave her a gentle kiss and then said goodbye to everyone as he took control of the chair and began moving Silvie out.
“He got his bike?” Gauntlet asked.
“No, as soon as he knew Silvie was here, he had Harley bring him. Vivie had called and let Apache know they had taken Silvie’s car, and Nova drove Vivie’s. Everybody is sorted, brother, no need to worry,” Ace stated.
“Be nice if Fish and Marsha would take that little shit home,” I said, scowling at Maverick sneaking out of the house.
Fish snagged the brat with one hand and caught him by his collar.
Maverick scowled at his dad but stood still when Marsha turned a beady eye on him.
“He’s up to something,” Lex stated with a shudder.
“Dante is bad enough. I’d have drowned Mav by now,” Drake agreed.
“Fish has the patience of a fuckin’ saint,” Apache murmured.
“The fuck he does. Ain’t you noticed? Mav won’t argue with Marsha. Fish dumps Mav on Marsha when the little fucker starts, and Marsha reins him in. Fish is as frightened of Mav as the rest of us,” Lex announced.
Surprised, I turned and studied Fish and how he held Mav. Yeah, Fish was holding him firmly, but Mav was fully in the line of his mother’s stern glare.
A smirk crossed my face as I saw Fish check with Marsha for reassurance that she was present. Lex was right. Fish didn’t wish to handle Mav on his own, and that was freaking hysterical. The kid would run rings around Fish, and we all knew it.
“If Fish flips, Mav behaves, but Fish doesn’t flip often; he’s got tight control over his temper. Doesn’t want to turn into his father. So, Fish lets Marsha be the bad guy,” Apache murmured.
“I get that,” I said, nodding.
“Dante is the one who’s gonna have to manage that little fuck when they’re older. We can sit back and watch Dante get his comeuppance,” Drake stated cheerfully.
I snorted in agreement. Dante was a handful, like Mav, but less dangerous and deadly.
“I’m putting a hundred on Mav being arrested first,” I said, and the others began betting.
“Put five hundred down for me,” Fish yelled, clearly having overheard us.
Marsha sent him a filthy look, while Mav grinned.
Yeah, that little fucker was heading straight for the joint. No two ways about it.
Chapter Three.
Grace
