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Lick: Devil's Fury Book 2 by Torrie Robles (14)

Fucking shit.

This kid is wild and angry. So fucking angry. He tosses his body against mine, acting like his skinny ass is gonna break away from me. Fuck no. When I apply more pressure around his rib cage, he relaxes a bit and his temper begins to simmer. I can feel his chest swell with each deep breath and that’s what I want. I need this kid to slow his breathing so he can get his emotions under control.

“You good?” I ask quietly. He nods his head slowly. I’m not reassured, but I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. I loosen my hold, and he does nothing to retaliate.

“I know this is hard,” Jenni says as she continues to soothe a crying Roxy. “I know this is a lot for you two to take in. This isn’t something any child should have to deal with, but you aren’t alone.”

“Aren’t we?” Ryder asks. “We’ve never met him before.” He throws his thumb in Lick’s direction. “Mom’s never tried to reach out to anyone. It’s always been the three of us. So how are we not alone?”

“Because you have family now,” Jenni tells him.

Lies. She’s spouting lies, and I can’t stand it. She seriously needs to take a fucking hint and stop this nonsense about family bullshit.

I swallow the guilt. Just a few days ago, I was standing in front of my father, promising to find his grandchildren and now that I have, the first thing that’s on my mind is how to ‘un-find’ them. I don’t have time for this shit. I wasn’t fucking joking when I told my sister all those year ago I wasn’t up to having kids, and I’m not gonna start now.

“Thank you for informing the children about their mother. We like that sort of news to be given to them by their family and not by a stranger, though the news is hard either way,” Maggie says as she sets a milk crate on the table in front of her.

There wasn’t much more to say to the kids once I told them what they needed to hear. I wasn’t gonna sugar coat shit. I don’t believe in covering up the darkness with some sunshine shit. What’s the fucking point to that? Why try to shine the shit because even after all your hard work, it’s still shit. People gotta take the hand they’re dealt and deal with it. Accept it and push past it. Move the fuck on.

My sister is dead. Their mother is dead.

No need to make it look pretty.

“I wish it was said a little bit different.” Jenni cuts her eyes to me. I know she doesn’t like how I handled it, but fuck that. It needed to be said.

“There’s no reason for it to be said any different. It doesn’t change the meaning, so I did what I thought needed to be done. Now it’s over and we can move the fuck on.”

“Yes, speaking of that,” Maggie starts, “I’m not sure if you’re aware or not, but once the children were brought in, we had a court liaison go over to the apartment building where they were staying with their mother. We like to be able to gather anything the kids might want like stuffed animals and photos, but the apartment manager had already cleaned the place out. Evidently, your sister was behind on rent.”

“Shocker,” I tell her.

“We were able to gather a few pieces of clothing and a couple of toys, but not much. The children didn’t really have much of anything.” She points to the plastic crate on the table. “This is the last of your sister’s personal belongings that were collected by the apartment manager. I thought you’d like to take it with you.”

“You thought wrong–”

“Thank you, Maggie.” Jenni grabs the crate and sets it next to her.

“Okay, that’s done. We’re going to need you to sign a few forms. I’m going to need proof of residence, and income.” She set down a stack of papers. “Once these are filled out, I’m going to need to run a background check.” She briefly regards me. “That won’t be a problem, right? This can be temporary or permanent. We don’t need to make any decisions now, but we do like to see all children placed permanently with family.”

“Wait a second.”

She continues to lay white sheet after white sheet on the table in front of me.

“I said wait the fucking second,” I growl, causing her to pull her hand back and give me a hardened glare.

“Tylan–” Jenni scoots up in her chair.

“No.” I point my finger towards her. “Don’t Tylan me.”

“What’s the problem?” Maggie asks.

“The problem is that I don’t know what the fuck is going on here. Why in the hell do I need to fill out this shit?”

“We need to clear you before you’re allowed to have the children in your custody.”

“Here’s the thing with that. I don’t want them in my custody.”

She gasps at my revelation.

“Can you please give us a minute, Maggie?” Jenni asks.

“Of course.”

Before I can get another word out, the old broad is out of her chair and closing the door behind her.

“Jesus Christ, help me. Tylan.” Metal scrapes against the cold linoleum floor as she pushes to her feet.

“Jesus Christ, help you? Are you seriously going to use the Lord’s name in vain? That’s not very Christian of you, Sugar Tits.”

She squares her shoulders and straightens her back. “I’m not using the Lord’s name in vain. I’m asking for divine intervention to keep me from killing you! You aren’t going to change the subject, so don’t even try.”

I chuckle before meeting her eyes. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“What’s your deal?” Her hands come flying up, all exasperated and shit.

“My deal? I don’t have a deal.”

“You’re being an ass.”

“Wow, now she cusses. What’s going on with you?”

“Why aren’t you being more helpful with your niece and nephew?”

“I’m not sure how helpful you want me to be.”

“Fill out the paperwork.” She takes a step towards the table and pushes the papers in my direction.

“Not gonna happen.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want it to happen.”

“But they need you.”

“No, they don’t. They need anyone but me.”

“They’re your family.”

“Sometimes being family doesn’t mean shit, and you know that.”

“Gah! Why can’t you see that they’re scared and they need you?”

“They don’t need me.” I stand, leaning over the table so I can make sure she’s seeing me. “They’ve spent twenty minutes with me. They know that case worker better than they know me, so technically she would be a better fit for them.”

“You’re unbelievable,” she groans.

“So I’ve been told.”

She doesn’t respond. She stands there, tapping her foot chewing on her nails as she stares off into space.

Sitting back down in the hard as fuck plastic chair, I lean back. “Listen. I’m a biker. I like to go when and where I want, and I sure as shit don’t need to be worrying about no kids even if they have my blood flowing through their body. I’m not good for them. I don’t have the fucking patience. And you’re forgetting one thing.”

“What’s that?” she asks.

“I live in the fucking clubhouse. That ain’t no place for kids. Fuck, they’re not even allowed. There ain’t no way I would be allowed to keep those kids, not when any type of agency sees where I live. Even if I wanted to, it couldn’t happen.”

A smile spreads across her face, and a glint shines in her eyes. I’m not sure I like the look she’s giving, but before I can ask her what the fuck is going on in that pretty little head she makes her way to the door and swings it open.

“How long will the background check take?” she asks, nodding her head as she listens to whoever is talking to her. “And then you’ll need to do an inspection of the living arrangements?”

Oh, hell no.

“And once everything goes through the kids can come live with us?”

Oh hell to the no.

She hops on her toes and claps her hands. When she turns towards me, her face is overcome with joy. “Grab the crate and the papers, Tylan. We’ve got a club meeting to attend.”

Fuck my life.

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