“Because he married me and I don’t know if I can ever give him what he wants. I know what he needs from me, but I’m not sure if I’m the right person for him. He deserves someone who isn’t so unsure of everything.”
“You don’t need to feel guilty. Bishop loves being married to you.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. Besides, if we’re talking about the same kid, do you really think he does something he doesn’t want to without a fight? If he really didn’t want to marry you, he’d have made it very plain for me. Stop worrying so much about him. He’s having a good time, and that is all that matters.”
Later that night, he put Robin to bed. He’d carried her upstairs as she fell asleep watching another movie.
She’d been on the heavier side, but nothing he couldn’t handle. It felt good to carry her, to hold her close.
Pushing those feelings aside, he waited outside the bar. O’Klaren thought he had the upper hand, but he wasn’t even close to being in the same league as him.
He had many people in places that knew when to call him. There was no way he’d let O’Klaren fuck with him too much, just enough for the bastard to think he’d gotten to him.
He’d gotten rich and stayed out of jail for being one step ahead of the game. Money made the world go ’round, and it helped to have a lot of it. People were loyal through fear and money.
It’s why he was never lenient, and he never showed mercy, not to anyone. The moment you did, people thought you were a pushover and expected more out of you, and he was no pushover, and he’d fuck over anyone who tried to take him on.
Leaning against O’Klaren’s car, he waited.
Most of the customers had gone for the night, leaving O’Klaren, who was turning out to be an asshole who used fear to keep people in place. In another lifetime, he may have had respect for him, but there was no way he’d ever agree to any kind of deal with him. O’Klaren was the kind of guy to sell out anyone to make himself look good.
O’Klaren stepped out of the bar with a woman close to him. Preacher watched, amused as the guy felt her up. He was all hands, and even from the short distance he saw the woman wasn’t into it.
Preacher let out a whistle, giving the woman a break for a change.
O’Klaren turned toward him. “Hold on, baby girl. I’ve just got to take care of this piece of trash and then your ass is mine.”
All the information he had on this cop was useless. Each piece of paper and picture was a fake, a lie, something to make people look the other way, but Preacher knew there was more to him.
“Are you looking to get your ass arrested?” O’Klaren asked. “Confess all of your sins and go to lockup where you belong.”
“It’s interesting how you think I’m the one that deserves to be locked up.”
“You’re the one who needs to be put away.”
Preacher smiled. “It’s funny, for all the bad shit I’ve done, and this is not on the record, I’ve never once beaten my son to a bloody pulp and then ordered him to be butt fucked by a gang of addicts to get their next fix.”
O’Klaren lost all color in his face as Preacher let go of just some of the information he had on this piece of shit.
“Don’t get me wrong, Bishop, he’s not a great kid. He’s caused me a great deal of problem. Probably makes your older boy look like a saint. I don’t know what that makes you. For me, I think it makes you worse than fucking scum. My boy pisses me off. I can’t fucking stand him, and I wonder why I didn’t kill him when he was first born, but you see, he’s still my boy. He’s still my flesh and blood, and if anyone so much as lays a finger on him, they have to come through me. While you will let anyone hurt your boy to save face.”
“What is it you want?” O’Klaren asked. “If you’ve come to spew lies…”
“Oh, they’re not lies. Believe me, I wouldn’t come up against you without having proof.” He stepped away from the car and stepped right up into his face.
He was taller than O’Klaren. If he wanted to, he could snap his neck with his bare hands, but where was the fun in that?
“You put your hands on Robin.”
O’Klaren burst out laughing. “Now I didn’t see that one coming. Have you got a thing for the girl? Is that it, Caleb? You’ve got the hots for some underage pussy.”
Grabbing O’Klaren hard, Preacher slammed him against the car. He held his arm at an odd angle.