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“Are you telling me we’ve nothing to serve to my client?”
“No, Garry, because I managed to put together a meal. After dinner, fetch that bitch, and I want answers!” I growled out and stormed off to clean up.
???
I sat in my window seat, wondering what else I’d discover. The wind blew through the open window, moving the curtains a little. I’d not been able to shower straight away because I was so angry even while remaining tired and dazed. My phone lay in my lap, but I didn’t know who to call. Most of my friends had dropped off as my illness progressed.
“Lin, what fucking idiot are you that you dumped the rubbish in our bin?” Garry’s voice drifted up.
I sat up straight, not believing that I’d heard right.
“The drugs you’re feeding her mean Grace should be down for the count most days,” Lin replied.
Stunned, I opened my phone and hit record. All at once, it appeared that answers were imminent to my strange ‘illness.’
“Those drugs will keep Grace dazed and confused. A little longer, and then I’ll be able to have her admitted. Once she is, and her blood is tested, Grace will be known as a drug addict and a nutcase,” Garry spat.
“So add some extra shit tonight to Grace’s meal. She’ll go all drooly in front of your client and phase out, and he’ll report back to your bosses how bad she is. Then you’ll get her job permanently. That’s why you’re doing this, right?” Lin retorted.
My job? This was over that?
“If Grace had known how close she was to being offered partner… fuck. I need her certifiably insane so I can divorce her and not pay alimony or child support,” Garry bitched.
Somehow, I kept my mouth shut. And a small part of me wasn’t surprised, but the rest of me reeled in horror. I continued listening as Garry and Lin discussed their plans, moving forward and what they intended to do. Then I showered and dressed, making a plan in my mind. I read the girls their story and walked downstairs to greet Garry’s guest, who was a former client of mine.
It was then my eyes rested on the frozen leg of lamb.
Savage
June 2022
The weather was too damn hot to do anything but swing in my hammock under the shade of the trees, something I loved to do since buying my own home. I’d shared a house with a few others before moving out. It seemed to be something the prospects did. But I’d sunk my savings into this nice, detached house down a quiet cul-de-sac, which appeared to be primarily families and a few older couples. It had caused a stir when I’d moved in, a single man on a bike wearing a prospect cut.
The street was mostly wary of me. Not even the blind could miss the disdainful looks and judgement hung in the air. But when the riotous parties and fights never happened, a couple of them began to relax and give me a nod in the morning. The few times my brothers had been over, we’d quit at a decent hour and not caused any trouble. The Harleys were loud, but nobody over-revved, and my brothers left as quietly as possible.
Even so, I kept myself to myself. Shit, I didn’t want well-meaning neighbours or nosey fuckers interfering in my business. I had my family and friends and didn’t need anyone else. And the truth was, we had a war coming, and I wanted a bit of peace before it started.
Hell, I’d saved Rosie from her attackers and the clinic burning down and helped Wild get justice for Lynda. Oh yeah, and taken two bullets in the leg in a shootout with Venomous Fangs.
Now we were in a lull, waiting for the next move.
On top of all that, I worked at the funeral parlour Rage owned between ten at night and seven in the morning. I’d also been working in the garage for a few days but had stopped because something had to give, and Drake had noticed.
I was close to getting full brother now. Drake had mentioned a vote was imminent. It had taken longer than usual, and Drake had upped our money—for those of us who’d done more than our fair share of time—to make up for it.
It would be fuckin’ fantastic to finally get that brother cut. Drake had already amended the hours for those prospects who’d served their time. Which meant lately I’d received two days off work a week.
I wasn’t worried about failing the vote; I got on with everyone. If someone had an issue with me, it would be an enormous shock.
So, for now, I had a rare afternoon off. It was sunny, and I was making the most of it, swinging in my hammock. Until I was disturbed by a ball bouncing over my fence.
“What should we do?” a little girl’s voice asked.
“Don’t know.”
“Harper, she’s going to yell if we tell her the ball went over.”
“Shhh, Isla. Let me see if I can see through the fence. There’s a hole over there.”
