Stay Vertical (The Bare Bones MC #2)(22)
Tobiah spread his hands wide. “Of course I don’t have evidence, Lyt. It’s just common scuttlebutt.”
Lytton was surprised when June spoke up. Suddenly she was next to him, leaning against him for support. “I heard that too, Lytton. Speed told me the rumor. It’s just a rumor. Don’t pay any attention to it. There’s no evidence Ford was even down in that desert.”
June’s words soothed him, and reminded him that she was sick. For one of the first times ever, Lytton took his focus off himself and placed it on someone else. He put an arm around her. “I’m getting you inside the house, June. Tobiah, this is June Shellmound, Ford’s sister-in-law. She not just some pass-around, not just one of my subs. And she’s sick. What is it you’ve got?”
“Malaria, I think.”
“Malaria.” Lytton started walking her toward the door. “How do you cure malaria?”
“Well, I took the Malarone, but the mosquitoes must’ve been resistant. Maybe I could get ahold of some doxycycline.”
“Okay, I’m taking you to the hospital in Flagstaff.”
“Oh, please don’t. I don’t have any insurance.”
“I’ll pay for it. It happened on my watch.”
Tobiah said as they exited the greenhouse, “That’s one thing you can say for Lytton. He takes responsibility for things. Things might be completely shady, self-centered, and egotistical disasters caused by his own narcissistic revels, but at least he owns up to them.”
“Thanks for the endorsement, Tobiah. Can I take your cage?” Tobiah had a square Toyota Camry that would never get anyone pulled over and handed a Fast Riding Award. June was so ill she might fall off the * pad of his ride.
“Sure. And listen, sorry about what I said about your brother. You’re right, it’s all just hearsay. Ford was certainly never charged with any murder. More than likely it was that other goon who took out Cropper.”
“Turk was in that desert too,” June slurred. He had to get her some drugs, stat.
“Who’s Turk?”
“He runs the weed dispensary in P & E.”
“Pure and Easy? A Joint Effort? That guy was there when my father died?”
“Right, Turk. He’s not Turkish, though. Hey, you don’t happen to have any potato chips in your house, do you?”
Tobiah said, “There are some Kettle Chips on the kitchen table.” He giggled. “She must have the munchies just from being inside the greenhouse.”
Lytton found himself surprisingly not resenting having to take his newfound squeeze to the hospital in town. He knew it would have irritated him no end having to take any of his other women, his slaves. This one, he couldn’t even classify as a slave. He didn’t want to.
Already, June Shellmound was so much more to Lytton. What was eerie was, it didn’t feel that alien to him. He was already starting to accept it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JUNE
I easily found The Hip Quiver, P & E’s downtown archery range that did double duty as law offices for The Bare Bones’ consigliore, Slushy McGill. I had to walk past about fifteen shooting lanes where Boy Scouts and other earnest fans of archery movies shot their arrows into the overhead light banks, the column in the middle of the room, and the Hunger Games and Brave posters.
The Hip Quiver had only been set up to launder money for the club. Turk used to manage it back in the day, but since he’d moved on to the weed dispensary, some unknown Prospect named Kneecap ran it. I passed through the showroom area where compound bows, quivers, and shafts were for sale in order to find Slushy’s office. I assumed The Bare Bones were his only client, so he didn’t need to advertise his services outside of the club.
The DNA test had come back. I knew by the ceremonious pomp they were making of it what the result was. Madison had texted me earlier that morning to come down to Slushy’s office for a family meeting. I was still at Lytton’s recovering from the bout of malaria, so he scooted me down to P & E on the back of his Softail. After three days languishing in Lytton’s bed, I was strong enough now to ride one up to Pure and Easy.
It sounds a lot more fun than it really was, “three days in Lytton’s bed.” He had adhered to strict sick-person guidelines and was actually quite caring and loving with me. After his initial rough dominance of me in the greenhouse, once he realized how sick I was, he did a one-eighty. We got the drugs I needed, and I sank into a deep slumber for the first two days, tossing and turning when the fever spiked. I recall Lytton sitting next to me on the bed, laying a cold washcloth on my forehead, over my eyeballs. That felt like heaven.
When I started to improve, I’d sit up in bed, noticing things around me. I was wearing one of his button-down plaid shirts. He must have put that on me. The room was light and airy and surprisingly tidy for a man. I thought at first maybe it was Tobiah’s room, until I saw a copy of Men’s Health magazine on the floor. Coming back from a trip to the can, I even took a peek at a bookshelf. The predictable chemistry things like Uncle Tungsten and Periodic Tales: The Curious Lives of the Elements were there alongside dry and thick chemistry manuals. I was amused to see Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I knew Ford was highly literate. I wondered if he’d be happy to know his brother was also.