Page 57 of Property of Bob

“What?”

“Tell Prime I’m going to kick his ass once I get out of the wheelchair.”

Prime’s voice suddenly sounded in the background. “Fuck you, Ashland!”

My eyes narrowed.

“Put that motherfucker on the phone,” I demanded. I was going to kick his ass for telling everyone my name. That shit was buried and needed to stay that way.

“Negative,” Skull choked out, trying not to laugh.

“Skull,” I called.

“Talk tomorrow, Ashland.” The call ended.

I stared at the dark phone screen.

Cross was still laughing.

Anchor shook his head. “Your life got a lot more complicated yesterday.”

I looked toward the window.

Ramona was probably sitting in that RV right now, trying to figure out what the hell she’d walked into.

Good luck with that, because I barely knew anymore.

My club was hunting someone who knew too much about us. Bernice was dead, Erin was in the hospital, and I had holes in my memory big enough to drive a truck through.

And Ramona had shown up with trouble of her own.

None of it changed one thing.

Tomorrow, I was going home. I didn’t care if I had to roll through the clubhouse doors in this fucking wheelchair.

Ramona came to Skull Island because she needed me. It was time I got back there and acted like it.

Chapter Five

Ramona

I woke up staring at a ceiling that wasn’t mine.

For one confused second, I had no idea where I was. Then everything came rushing back.

Skull Island.

I groaned and rolled onto my back, dragging one hand over my face.

Yesterday had been a lot. Way too much for one day.

I’d spent part of the afternoon sitting in my RV, thinking I would somehow figure out exactly what the hell I was supposed to do next. Instead, I’d made coffee, stared out the window at Pull and Wannabe keeping watch, rearranged a cabinet that didn’t need rearranging, and thought about Ashland so much that eventually I’d given up and come back to the clubhouse.

I’d figured out exactly nothing.

My former boss was still out there somewhere.

I still didn’t know if he’d followed me.