Now I have no idea how she’s going to act toward me. But it’s time I find out.
I walk out of the bedroom expecting to find Madison and one of the prospects in the living room or kitchen, but both are empty.
“Hello?” I call out to the too quiet house. “Anyone home?” What a stupid question. It’s my home, not Madison’s and certainly not the prospects. “Anyone here?” I try again as I jog upstairs and find the guest room door open and empty inside.
I jog back downstairs to grab my phone to call them, wherever the hell it is, when I finally see the piece of notebook paper on the kitchen counter.
We went on to the office since it looked like you needed to sleep off your hangover. We’ll be back this afternoon in time to get ready for dinner at your parents.
Then she signed her name. Just her name.
I debate whether or not I should go to her office while I search for my phone, finally finding it in the pocket of the pants I wore last night that were still on my bedroom floor.
For some reason I can’t quite figure out, I don’t want to see Madison right now around a bunch of other people. So, I call Roman.
“Yeah?” he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, great party last night,” I tell him.
“We had a decent turnout I thought,” he agrees. “What’s up?”
“Not much. I was just a little hungover and was wondering if you could send someone to check on things at Madison’s office, make sure the prospects don’t need any supervision.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “Why aren’t you going?”
“Still hungover,” I lie. I woke up feeling pretty good all things considered, just a little mortified. “Could you send one of the Nomads?”
Roman sighs. “You all have to stop calling them that. They’re no longer Nomads and haven’t been for nearly three years. They’re our brothers.”
“Sorry. It’s just hard to think of them as one of us since they keep to themselves.”
“Maybe that’s because everyone still refers to them as outsiders.”
“Maybe so,” I agree. “I’ll try to stop calling them that.”
“Good,” Roman replies. “And I need to take Madison the funds from last night, so I’ll check on things at the office.”
“Oh. Okay.” Why doesn’t that make me happy? Roman served in the Marines. He’s tough as shit and wouldn’t think twice about hurting anyone who tried to hurt Madison. I guess I just don’t really like the idea of them…talking. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“You there?” Roman asks.
“Yeah, I’m here. You’re going to go by the office and check on things.”
“Why does it sound like you don’t like that idea?”
“Not sure,” I answer truthfully. “But go. Take her money and make sure the prospects aren’t killing each other.”
“How have they been doing? Still going at it every second of the day?”
I consider their behavior in the office and here every night. “Nah, they’ve really helped Madison out and haven’t bitched about taking turns sleeping outside. Maybe our little boys are finally growing up.”
“Maybe,” he replies with a chuckle. “I’ll let you know if there are any problems.”
“Okay. Thanks, Roman.”
“No problem.” He ends the call without another word, and I try my best to figure out why I don’t want my friend and president around Madison and why I’m not ready to face her just yet.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Madison
“Incoming!” one of the prospects says from the front room.
I’m out of my chair and walking out of my office in a hurry, hoping it’s Cannon. It’s not, but it is another man wearing the Savage Kings MC patches with a folder and something else tucked under one arm.
“Hi, Roman,” I say when he comes inside.
“Hey, sorry to drop in, but I thought you might want this.” He holds up a bank bag that’s bulging from all the cash inside.
“Absolutely. Thank you!” I say when I take it from him.
“Jake, Lucas, you two behaving?” he asks the prospects, who have moved up from postcards to working on emails on laptops.
“Yes, sir,” they both answer him before going back to work.
“Keeping them busy enough so they can’t kill each other. Good idea,” he says to me with a smile.
“I’ll take all the free help I can get.”
“Me too,” Roman says. “And I know you’re busy, but Cannon mentioned a while back that you may be able to help us with our business permits.” He holds up the thick folder.
“Of course. Come on back to my office, and I’ll look through them,” I say as I lead the way. “I’m not sure if I can do anything more than the attorney you hired, but I’ll try.”
“Thanks,” he says.
We talk about the appeals process, how long it could take, and ways to expedite the process as I go through all the documents.
“The Kings all depend on the money from our businesses, so the sooner we can get them back up and running, the better.”
“Of course.”
“And I’m sure you know that Conrad and Cannon need it more than most of us,” he says, making me look up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Hasn’t Cannon told you about his mom?”
“What about her? I met her and his father last night.”
“They’re incredible people, and yesterday looked like one of her good days.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” I tell him.
“You should probably talk to Cannon then. He’ll tell you if he wants you to know his business. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, please,” I beg him. “We’re going to dinner at their house tonight with Conrad and Hannah. If there’s something I need to know, I hope you’ll fill me in now, so I don’t make a fool of myself.”
“Fine, but can we keep it between us until Cannon tells you, if he decides to?”
“Sure.”
“The twins’ mom has
