Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Of course, I promise.” She shoved the baggie into her pocket and then held his face again. “I’ll do anything you need.” Then she pressed a kiss to his lips. The fact that he didn’t respond nearly brought her to tears.
Brenna straightened and shoved down a hundred questions, shouting inside her head. She pushed aside her fear and heartache. Lock needed her help. It didn’t matter why or what he’d done. Those explanations would come later. For now, she needed to take care of him and get him through this night.
“Come on.” She grasped his limp hand. “Let’s go home. I’ll make you some coffee, and we can talk or lie down. Whatever you need.” She gave a gentle tug, and he dutifully followed but might as well have been a million miles away.
When they reached his house, she fished his keys out of his back pocket and let them into his home. “Go into the kitchen,” she suggested in a tender but firm tone. “Sit at the table. I’ll be right in.”
He looked at her before nodding once and walking off toward the kitchen.
Brenna darted into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and locked it before sagging against the wood. “Okay, okay,” she whispered. “You found him. He’s okay.” She didn’t think he’d taken anything but didn’t know for sure. Her hands shook as she dug the baggie out of her pocket. She stared at it for a moment. What drove him to the brink tonight? What made him eager to throw away months of hard work and enormous effort?
Brenna walked the short distance to the toilet. It took a few tries to get her trembling fingers to cooperate, but she wrestled the baggie open and dumped the contents into the bowl. One quick flush later, it disappeared into the septic system.
She closed her eyes, breathed, and pulled out her phone.
Brenna: I have him at his house. Call off the troops. He’s not hurt, but something is terribly wrong. Be in touch soon.
Brooke’s response came one second later.
Brooke: Take care of your man. We’re here when you need us. Caleb is perfect, so don’t worry about him.
Thank God for that woman.
Brenna hurried back to the kitchen, finding Lock sitting at the table with his thousand-yard stare. Should she mention she’d spoken to Brooke and Caleb was doing well? Maybe in a few minutes. She wasn’t sure her voice would even be heard at this point. Instead of going straight to him, she set about making a pot of coffee. Once brewing, she dragged a chair and placed it perpendicular to his so her knees bumped his thighs when she sat.
“Lock?”
A manila envelope lay on the table in front of him. He slid it to her. “I feel like I can’t breathe,” he said.
Brenna’s brow furrowed. “Want me to open this?”
He nodded. “Read it. Please tell me I misunderstood.”
She opened the envelope with a heavy sense of dread and drew out a thick stack of papers. The familiar logo at the top had her frowning. What was Oliver—
Oh, no.
She read as fast as her brain would allow. With each word, her heart sank deeper and deeper through her body. No wonder Lock was a freaking mess.
It’s not over, Brenna.
Oliver’s words. She’d taken them as bluster, but he hadn’t been lying. Her ex might not be as strong or physically capable as the MC members, but he had a powerful weapon at his disposal. He knew how to manipulate the law, and he was doing so by suing Lock to remove Caleb’s custody.
“Jesus,” she whispered. “Can he do this? Is this even real? Or legal?” Even as she spoke the questions, she knew the answers. Oliver was a hotshot attorney at a prestigious firm. Of course he knew what he could get away with.
“I called the club’s lawyer,” Lock said in a voice that sounded like someone had gone six rounds with his vocal cords.
“Good. Okay, that’s smart.” She set the papers down, unable to stomach another word.
He shook his head. “She told me there was a good chance Oliver could use my drug history, my undisclosed stint in rehab, and the club against me. She’s worried he might have a judge in his pocket. She didn’t say it outright, but I could tell she thinks I’m fucked.”
“No!” Rage replaced the fear and concern she’d been battling all night. There was no fucking way she’d allow Oliver to do this.
Brenna stood, shoving her chair away. She climbed onto Lock’s lap, straddling him as she captured his face and forced him to look at her. “We are not allowing this to happen, Lock. You haven’t come this far and fought this hard for a piece of shit like Oliver to ruin your life. Do you hear me? You have the power of your entire club at your back. And you have me. We will fight this, and we will win. I will die before I let anyone take Caleb from you.”