Though her shoulders were high with irritation, they sagged at that, and she turned around, reached up to cup my chin, and murmured, “I’m going nowhere. Not without you.”
She looked at me with her heart in her eyes, and I just stood there like a fool and watched as she left the room.
Slamming the door behind her, I dug my hands into my pockets and snarled, “She’s not yours, Wolfe.”
“What? You gonna fight me over her?” he sneered.
“You bet your ass I am.”
The sound of a lighter striking cut through our words, and Flame murmured, “Think she made it pretty fucking clear, bros. It’s all or nothing.”
“If she thinks she can be here, with my daughter, and not be my old lady, then she’s insane.”
Flame snorted. “We knew that already.”
I laughed because he was right, and went to inspect the guns she’d left behind. As I eyed the workmanship, I whistled under my breath after unloading and reloading the bullets. “Worth a grand a piece. Easy.”
Wolfe sagged back and slumped into his desk chair.
“We need the cash,” Axe murmured. “You know we do. The jobs pay well, but we blow through the money on our runs.”
Drugs had always been Wolfe’s weakest link. His sister had OD’d and so had too many brothers in the club. When Lucie had been ‘caught stealing,’ that was when he’d tried to take the MC in another direction. Bomber had let him, but only when Wolfe’s secondary business had been so fruitful. By that point, Bomber had started claiming he was the reason the Rebels had cleaned up, and we’d just gone along with the lie.
Speaking of our secondary business, I reached into my pocket and fingered my knife. “We have a daughter now. I don’t know about Flame, but I don’t want to spend the rest of her childhood in lock up.”
Wolfe reached up and scrubbed a hand over his head. “No more hits,” he agreed, after Flame stated, “I’m not missing out on another day of that girl’s life. And I don’t just mean Amaryllis. No more unless it’s for fun.”
I shook my head at Flame’s idea of fun. If the sick fuck wasn’t like a brother to me, and not just the MC kind, I’d avoid him like the plague.
“When’s our next shipment?” I asked Axe.
“Next week. We got the cigarettes in while you were over in Alabama.”
Alabama, where I’d been mimicking a mugging that had gone ‘wrong’ in Birmingham.
“If we could get up a production line on these guns, we could use the same channels to distribute them,” I pointed out.
Wolfe hissed out a breath. “Damn her.”
“For what?”
“Boxing me into a motherfucking corner.”
“Least she did it with a smile. I’m surprised she didn’t slap you before she headed out,” Flame retorted lazily, punctuating the remark with a hiss of his lighter.
I had to laugh because, sweet Lord, he was right.
Lucie was not the submissive type. Not like the women we’d all been fucking these past few years without her.
Jesus, I’d missed her, and I recognized just how goddamn much now that she was back.
❖
Flame
A few days later
I was uneasy.
Hell, I was more than uneasy.
As I leaned in the doorway and stared into the family room, I looked at my daughter, looked at her and tried to figure out what the fuck I’d say to her.
What did I know about talking to little girls?
Shit, there were some hanging around the clubhouse, daughters of brothers, but I pretty much ignored them. Most of them thought I was the boogeyman anyway, so they went out of their way to avoid me—something I wasn’t about to change.
Still, this was my daughter. I didn’t want her to think I was the boogeyman.
I wanted, God help me, to be her hero.
Shit.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I sighed at myself in exasperation. The motion had my knuckles cracking, but I was used to the pain. They were always split from some beating I’d had to dole out. The latest being with Gutter—the doped-up fucker who’d disrespected Lucie at the gates. His prospect ass was black and blue, but my knuckles were shot. It was why I preferred the brass knuckles, but sometimes, a man just needed to ram a message home. One that was strengthened by the spilling of his own blood.
Before I could chicken out, I cleared my throat. Lucie and Amaryllis both shot me startled looks, whereas the other kids in the room ducked their heads and tried to escape my attention—as if. I knew where they were, who they were, and which brother they belonged to.
“What are you doing?” I rasped. I mean, I knew what they were doing, but fuck, a conversation had to start somewhere, right?
“Giving Momma more tattoos,” Amaryllis whispered shyly, her cheeks tingeing pink as she looked to her mother for backup.
Lucie smiled at her, then reached forward, grabbed a Sharpie, and said, “Have at it.”
Because that was easier than just sitting there and feeling awkward as fuck, I grabbed the pen, sidled up next to Amaryllis, and began doodling on the cast that wasn’t even doodled on that much.
“I’m surprised this isn’t covered by now,” I mumbled.
“Pretty much the first time we’ve been able to chill. Driving down here took a while,” Lucie replied, tipping her head back against the sofa. “Amaryllis isn’t a good traveler.”
“I get car sick,” she murmured, her head bowing with shame.
I frowned at her. “I did when I was a kid too.”
Her eyes rounded. “You did?”
“Yeah. Fuc—” I cleared my throat. “Nightmare. That’s why I like bikes. You’re in control of it, so it’s better on your system, and the wind in your face stops you from getting sick.”
She blinked at me. “Can I have one?”
My lips twitched. “I mean, when you’re older. Maybe.”
Lucie snorted when Amaryllis mumbled, “Momma had one. It was pretty.”
She whistled. “Was too. Matte black with shiny red flames.”
I cocked a brow. “Flames, huh?”
“It goes with the name, you know?” she retorted piously. “Lucifer.”
Amaryllis stuck her tongue in her cheek as she focused on her doodles. “They’re good,” I told her softly, keeping my voice low so as not to scare her. I mean, I knew she wasn’t a dog or anything but fuck, I scared men who were three times her age.
“T-Thank you,” she stuttered, peering up at me through lashes so thick, with eyes so beautiful, that I knew, ten years down the line, I’d be killing motherfuckers who were lining up to date her.
Those eyes would slay a man.
Jesus.
This being a dad shit was tough.
“You can relax, Flame,” Lucie teased. “She won’t bite.”
That elicited a giggle from Amaryllis. “I don’t bite. That’s Daddy Wolfe’s job.”
My brows rose at that. Far as I knew, Amaryllis was ignoring Wolfe. When I cocked a look at Lucie, she just hitched her good shoulder in a shrug.
“Daddy Wolfe has a lot of important jobs to do. That’s why he can bark sometimes,” I told her, trying to stick up for my brother.