Page 32 of Tracked By Sasquatch

Reaching out, he steadied Croon from the blow. “She told me she loves you something fierce.”

Croon worked his jaw then murmured his thanks.

“Show’s over, brothers, go get cleaned up,” Zombie ordered, and the room dispersed, with a few exceptions.

Croon and Squatch stepped out of the ring. As they were each wiping at their sweat and injuries, Zombie and Hook approached.

“Hook has some information for you,” he said, looking at Croon before turning toward Squatch. “Since you’re Devin’s ol’ man, I guess it’s for you too.”

Ol’ man? It sounded strange to his ears, but he didn’t hate it. It wasn’t something he thought he wanted, but apparently his heart didn’t get the memo because it sped up at the words.

Ol’ man.

“Devin told me what happened in Nebraska. It felt like she was still holding something back, but I got the gist.”

Croon looked livid, but before he could speak, Zombie held up a hand and Hook continued.

“I gave her an ultimatum. Tell you or I would. Since she’s family, double so now, I went to Prez first, because any attack on family is an attack on the Bastards.”

“We will have to retaliate. I’ve let it sit for her sake, but we all knew, including her, that wouldn’t be indefinite. Now she’s on the clock and so are we.” Zombie added.

Squatch had planned on it since the words had left Devin’s mouth last night.

“What happ… was she…” Croon trailed off, visibly paling.

“She still has another day to come clean to you, brother. I’m sorry I gave her my word.”

Squatch couldn’t let Croon suffer, not when he could help it. “No.”

All eyes landed on him, but he maintained eye contact with Croon.

“The answer is no, brother. I won’t break her trust either, but I can give you that peace of mind.”

Croon dropped to the bench with relief, before gathering himself and nodding. “What’s the plan?”

“I’ll let everyone know in church as soon as her time is up or she speaks with you. Without saying too much, I already spoke to Irishman and they’re keeping tabs on the house. When we hit go time, I’ll have him fill us in on what’s what.”

Squatch got that tingle of excitement he always got when they had a mission. Or maybe it was because, holy shit, he had an ol’ lady. He’d have to call his aunt today and let her know because God knows she would curse his ass with her crystals if she found out before he told her.

After showering he rested, since he didn’t get much sleep last night. Not that he was complaining. He headed back to the common area to eat with his brothers. After stuffing his face, he grabbed a beer and sat staring at his phone. He wanted to call Devin and tell her about the whole ol’ lady thing before he told his Aunt Phoebe. Dev wouldn’t take too kindly to everyone knowing before her.

As it was, the whole club knew. That meant the ol’ ladies knew too and they would likely be blowing up her phone as soon as she got off work. Aunt Phoebe would be pulling tarot or reading tea leaves and find out if he didn’t tell her.

He was torn between doing the right thing and doing the other right thing, when Gwen sat down on the couch next to him.

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Absently, Squatch nodded, still contemplating his phone and nursing a beer.

“I can help with that.” She leaned into him. One arm going around him on the back of the couch, the other resting on his pec. It was a familiar position; one they’d been in a thousand times before.

Familiar or not, her scent and seductive voice didn’t offer him the enticement it once did. Sure, it still felt good to know that someone wanted him, found him worthy, even if it was just for his dick, it still stroked his ego.

He let her hand linger for an extra heartbeat or two, just to see if anything sparked. If it did, then he wasn’t worthy to be with Devin.

Still, he felt nothing.

Sure, if she’d have grabbed his dick, it would probably react, but he wasn’t reacting to her. Having Gwen want to ride his dick because he had a patch wasn’t the same as knowing that Devin, beautifully damaged Devin wanted him for him, not his patch. Of all the motherfuckers in the world, she chose him.