Chapter Thirteen
A couple of weeks ago, Emelia admitted something she never should’ve—that she wanted him, always. Since then, she hadn’t spent a single night without him. After he tucked Bree in, after Bree fell asleep, he made his move. Because she’d admitted what she had to her first boyfriend, first lover, the father of her child, the man she never stopped loving, she couldn’t find it in her to pull away and refuse his advances, which meant they’d had sex, a lot.
The first time she gave in again, just the day after she admitted she wanted him, always. She felt guilty about it, knowing nothing would come of it, knowing she made a complicated situation worse, knowing, in the end, the person who’d suffer the most was Bree. And so, after she gave in, she tried to leave, but Bryce stopped her.
Snaking an arm around her waist, he hauled her toward him until her back hit the expanse of his chest. He then buried his face in her neck. “Get cleaned up, Em, then come right back. We aren’t done.”
She thought about walking out for about two seconds. Then he pressed a kiss to her temple. Sweet, and also something he used to do before. A warmth spread through her chest. She released a heavy sigh. Her stupid, weak, and pathetic heart for a moment hoped maybe she was more than just sex to him. That thought shattered when her conscience reminded her he’d cheated and broken her, so that heat she felt spread through her faded fast. She realized belatedly—very belatedly—that she had to clean up, and that wasn’t good. It was bad news. He hadn’t used a condom. In fact, the three times they’d been together, he hadn’t used a condom. More bad news. Bryce was a biker and bikers slept around, but aside from that, when they’d been together, he hadn’t been faithful. She was not delusional to think Bryce abstained since she left.
“You didn’t wear a condom?”
He released her allowing her to turn and face him. “I didn’t.”
Heat crawled up her cheeks. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Aggravation, anger, annoyance, and fear… “Why—”
“I’m clean. I got tested after that first time.”
He got tested after that first time with her? Why? Because he knew he’d have her again and again? Because he wanted to look out for her? Because, what? Did it matter? He got tested. He was clean, meaning she was too. Some of the tension lining her shoulders melted.
“I can take you to get tested—”
She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “There’s no need. I haven’t been with anyone…but you.”
His eyes widened then narrowed. “You’re fuckin’ kidding me?”
Another admission she regretted the moment she said it. Already she’d handed him too much. Not that it mattered, he didn’t believe her. That was heartbreaking because he knew her, knew she wasn’t like him. Besides, she loved him and never stopped, so sleeping with anyone else had been out of the question.
She swallowed then lifted her chin. “I have no reason to lie. If you need a reason to believe me, then I’ll explain. I was alone in a new city and pregnant. I had to find a job and a place to live. Then I had a baby. I didn’t have time to date.” She turned, straightened, and stood.
He grasped her hand, tugged her back onto the mattress, and leaned into her ear to whisper, “I believe you.”
I believe you. Exactly the words she said to him the night before.
Just then, she wished her chest hadn’t tightened like it did, wished he hadn’t believed her. If he hadn’t, she could hate him and walk away.
He ran his nose along the length of her collar bone. It took a moment to remember what they’d been talking about.
She pulled away, got her thoughts in order, and met his gaze. “Bryce.”
His brows creased.
She steeled herself to say what she had to. “I’m not on birth control.”
He took this news so easily she convinced herself he hadn’t heard her. After a moment, she repeated it. “Did you hear me? I’m not on birth control.”
He smiled. “Yeah, babe. I heard you.”
“The last time…I was on the pill, and I ended up pregnant.” Her stomach rolled. She ignored it and went on. “We’ve had sex three times without a condom. I could be pregnant right now, Bryce. I-I…” Oh, shit. “I could be pregnant, again.” By the time she finished, she sounded borderline hysterical because saying it aloud made it real, and that terrified her.
He chuckled. It wasn’t funny, not even a little bit, and the fact he thought it so made her feel like she was in an alternate universe.
He cupped her cheek then trailed his hand backward, his fingers threading through her hair until they reached the base of her neck. “It’s gonna be fine, Em.”
No, it wouldn’t. Bringing another life into the world, another life tied to him wouldn’t help. They weren’t together. As it was, she stood to get hurt again because he’d break her, again. She wanted Bree to have a whole mom. She’d want another baby to have a whole mom too.
Her breaths coming out quickly, she managed to whisper, “What?”
“It’s gonna be fine.”
Her eyes widened, her voice high-pitched when she shrieked, “Have you lost your mind?”
He quirked a brow. “Naw, Em.”
She didn’t say anything, but she did stare at him wide-eyed. Thankfully, he took that as the need to explain.
“We made a beautiful, smart girl the first time. I’m sure the second time ‘round will be the same.”
Her jaw dropped. “You have. You have lost your mind.”
He threw his head back and laughed. Yes, laughed, a real laugh, and like everything about him, it was gorgeous.
Lost in the sound, in the fact he laughed with her, it took her a while to say, “I can’t believe… I just—”
“It wasn’t planned, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t going to deal with it. This time, we will deal with it, not just you. You aren’t running again, Em, ’cause this time, you run, I’ll chase you, and I’ll find you and bring you and Bree and anyone else right back,” he said this softly, calmly.
A vast change. A few weeks ago, he would’ve gotten furious, snapped, and said something hurtful. Despite this, she knew he meant every word.
“Get me?”
That he’d chase her shouldn’t make her feel good. For some reason, it did. Disturbing, and for good reason. It wasn’t a normal reaction. He hadn’t said he loved her, hadn’t told her they’d be exclusive, hadn’t even told her he wanted her. He wanted what was half his—his kids.
He drew closer, grazing his lips against hers, making her breath hitch. With his hand at the back of her neck, he squeezed her gently. “Tell me you understand.”
She swallowed. “I understand.”
He kissed her. Every thought, every worry faded. They went for round two.
Every night since then, they had sex usually more than once. Every night after they had sex, multiple times, tired and worn out, she fell asleep in his arms. Every morning, she woke around six, left quietly, and headed into her room to wake Bree for school. No one, she knew, had seen her.
The sex was amazing as it’d always been, and as the days slid by, she noticed something—a bigger change in him. It didn’t happen overnight, but with the more and more she gave herself to him. He wasn’t angry at all anymore. In fact, over the last several weeks, she couldn’t recall seeing him upset or annoyed. Before he’d only smiled and laughed with Bree, but now, he did it more so and randomly. Most shocking was that at night with her, he smiled, laughed, and teased her. Like before…
There were smaller changes too. He hardly took Bree out for long periods of time, almost like he was letting her spend more time with Bree. And on occasion when he took Bree out, he made sure to tell her not just where he planned to take Bree but when they’d be back. He also often thanked her for cooking and cleaning.
Still, none of this meant they were in a relationship. Though she doubted he slept around since he spent his nights with her and his days at the garage or with Bree, she couldn’t be sure. Nights, they spoke easily and often, and he couldn’t keep his hands off her. She fell asleep in his arms and woke in them. But things changed during the day and in front of others. They spoke sparingly; he didn’t touch her, hold her hand, pull her into a hug, or kiss her. Showing affection was something he did often when they’d been together because he wanted everyone to know she belonged to him.
So despite the earth-shattering sex, the change in him, and the way he treated her, she knew they weren’t in a relationship. He was using her for sex. She had no doubts eventually they’d end, and she’d be further broken. Yet even knowing this, she couldn’t stop giving into him. A part of her didn’t want to. Because she loved him, definitely, but because those years without him, she’d missed him so much, and now, she had a part of him back. But most importantly, every night, she felt loved, utterly and completely and by him. He took her fast and hard, but he also took her slow and savored her. They didn’t just have sex, but they talked and laughed and cuddled.
“Em?”
She straightened and met Cuss’s sapphire gaze.
“Parts delivery’s here. Can you come out and double check it?”
“Sure.” She stood.
Still getting familiar with most of the parts, she had to ask Cuss about a few of them. Distracted mid-way, Bree rushed her. She instinctively looked up and saw Bryce walking inside the garage, looking hot per usual, wearing a pair of jeans and tee with the garage’s logo that fit his chiseled frame perfectly, not to mention he had overgrown stubble covering his chin and cheeks and eyes that beautiful-strange color. Though they were sleeping together, and he treated her far better than he had in the past, he never looked her way randomly. This didn’t stop her from glancing at him often, and she’d done this since the day he’d moved them in.
As she thought this, his gaze lifted from Bree, locked on her, and heated. Then he lifted his chin, and a shadow of a smile flashed across his lips. Her breath clogging in the back of her throat, her lips parted. The reason her heart beat erratically—that hungry look in his eyes, that small smile he threw her way, and that he’d done it in front of his brothers. In shock, she froze, her thoughts helplessly drifted to the night before.
They had sex three times. After the final time, she collapsed on top of him, and he held her tightly. For a split second, she convinced herself he wanted her for more than sex. With that fantasy, she fell asleep in his arms and woke facing him. Her face buried in his neck, his arms tight around her. Like every other morning, she hadn’t wanted to get up, but she did.
“Emelia.”
She shifted, her stare locking with a set of hazel eyes identical to hers. Chills ran down her spine. Instinctively and immediately, she wrapped her arm around Bree, pressing her close to her side.
Older, aged by ten years, but it looked more like twenty. Then again, he always looked older than he’d been. Abusing alcohol had that effect on people. His hair was all white now, no blond left, and the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes were more pronounced. He looked like a grandpa. Technically, he was.
As his gaze drifted away from her to Bree, she tightened her hold on her daughter. Then he smiled. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile. When he peered at her again, the smile didn’t fade but softened.
“I’m a Grandpa,” he said, almost in awe.
He took a step in her direction, prompting her to take one back and simultaneously tug Bree behind her.
She tilted her head to the side, never losing sight of his eyes and said to Bree, “Honey, go into the office.”
When Bree didn’t move, she met her inquisitive stare and said more forcefully, “Baby, please, I’ll be right in.”
Bree did what she asked. Emelia watched her go, fighting the urge to flee herself. It had been eleven years, but the innate urge to run and hide—what she’d learned to do as a child—like the fear, hadn’t faded. Not one bit.
****
Ripper didn’t know how to describe it, didn’t know how it was possible, but he felt it. Tension so thick, it changed the air around him making it hard to breathe.
He looked up, scanned the garage searching for them, Bree and Em. Still right where he left them, just outside one of the metal doors leading into the garage, beside a bunch of parts, Em looking out to the lot.
God, he felt her. It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t explain it, but he did. The way she held herself, body stiff, shoulders tense, the way she held onto Bree, one arm around her shoulders in a death grip, she wasn’t herself. Even for the new Em, it was odd. He skimmed the lot for a threat as he headed straight for them on a dead run. He didn’t see anything or anyone but an older man, looking to be in his sixties with white hair. Halfway to them not seeing that man as a danger, he slowed his pace and came to a stop without losing sight of them. He waited. He watched.
“I’m a Grandpa.”
So lost in the look of utter awe on the man’s face, Rip hadn’t fully comprehended what he said. The man took a step toward Em and Bree. Em took one back hauling Bree behind her.
I’m a Grandpa.
Shit. Em’s father, the one who spent her childhood drunk off his ass beating the shit out of his baby girl. Just like Ripper couldn’t understand his lousy parents, he couldn’t understand that “non-threatening” man.
There were different ways to be a shitty parent. Not being around was kind of like a first-degree burn. It stung and hurt, but you got over it and moved on. Having a parent who beat the shit out of you was a third-degree burn. You could heal and move on, but you’d have scars you could never erase that served as reminders, so a part of you would never be the same.
Ripper didn’t get how his parents had been able to abandon their own flesh and blood, and he sure as fuck didn’t get how a man could beat his child repeatedly, a daughter, nonetheless. Thinking about it then, as the father of a beautiful girl, a girl that looked just like Em, made him sick to his stomach.
Em told him about her father once and never talked about it again. The way she said it with no emotion leaving out details, he figured she was like him. She hardened herself to it, didn’t want to talk about it, just wanted to put it behind her, and move on. He never asked. Chip saved her from that. She told him that, too. Still, seeing the man who was supposed to protect her, who hurt her instead for so long, he expected more of a reaction. His Em, the old Em, would’ve screamed or ranted, or done something, any-fucking-thing. But she just stood there, stiff, still, frozen, not saying anything, not doing anything. Honest, he didn’t even know if she’d taken a breath.
His gaze shot to her hands—shaking. Scared, no, terrified for herself and especially for Bree, and Em made this clear a moment later when she told Bree to go. If he didn’t know Em so well, if he hadn’t been so attuned to her, he would’ve missed it. Still, he didn’t know how she could look into the eyes of the man who beat her repeatedly without running or screaming or attacking him.
“Leave.” Her voice firm.
The man’s eyes widened. “I know it’s been a long time, but—”
“Leave.”
Rip moved, quick and fast.
“I wanted to…”
He grabbed Em by the upper arm and hauled her beside him.
The man’s gaze flew to him. “You’re the father?”
Yeah, he was also fucking his daughter every night. She was much more than just sex to him, but he wasn’t more than that to her, a realization he came to every morning when he woke to find her gone. So he shouldn’t step in, he should let her deal with her abusive father herself, but he couldn’t like he couldn’t let her father think he was nothing more than Bree’s father.
“Yeah, and Em’s man.”
The man looked from Em to him.
He felt the heat of Em’s hand grasp his forearm, tightly. Her palm wasn’t just shaky but sweaty holding onto him in a death grip and pulling herself closer. She did this in front of her shit father but also in front of his brothers like she wanted him to step in, protect her, save her, like she didn’t mind admitting to everyone she needed him. And that felt amazing making warmth slice up his stomach.
The man held out his hand to shake his. “Gerard. Em’s father.”
He looked to the man’s hand then further hardened his eyes before meeting his stare again. “Know who you are. What I don’t know is what the fuck you’re doing here.”
Gerard lowered his hand then released a heavy sigh. “Guess you know—”
“Damn fuckin’ right I do. Answer the question.”
Gerard looked to Em. “I wanted to reconnect with—”
“Eyes up here. She doesn’t talk, not to you.”
That easiness now faded. Gerard glared at him. “She’s a grown woman and can speak for herself.” His voice rose.
Em cringed against him, and it unhinged something deep in the middle of his chest.
The need to protect her searing him, he barked, “Yeah, she can, but she isn’t. I’m not giving you the satisfaction of speaking to my woman.”
“She’s my daughter—” Gerard spoke louder, his tone grew harsher.
Rip could only imagine how many times she heard that tone, too many, probably every time the man beat her. Proving how it affected her, she tightened her hand around his forearm.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, forcing her to release his arm. When he tucked her against him so that her chest pressed against his side, she planted the palm of her hand on his stomach. “She’s my woman, and I protect what’s mine. Protecting what’s mine means she won’t be speaking to a man who beat the shit outta her repeatedly.”
She flinched against him on the last word then tucked her face against his shoulder.
Her father sighed heavily. “I’ve been sober for more than a year. I came to make amends—”
“Inside.” When she didn’t move, he looked down at her to find her staring back at him. “Inside, Em.”
Her eyes softened. She did as he asked. He waited until he heard the office door open and close before he spoke. “So your program says you need to make amends, and you come? You fuckin’ shitting me?”
“That’s—”
He clenched his jaw. “Get the fuck outta here.”
“I’m not leaving until I talk to my daughter.”
Ripper took a step in his direction then went to take another and felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t bother to look. He knew when he turned he’d see his brothers at his back, like always. “You will go, asshole, or I’ll throw you out. I see you come here again, we’re gonna have problems. You come near Em or Bree, we’re gonna have bigger problems.”
“You can’t keep me away—”
“Em’s a grown woman. She wants to reconnect with you, she can. That doesn’t mean you’re ever gonna get near Bree. Em may forgive you, but she loves Bree more than anything, and she’ll never let you near her. You talk up her ear and by some fucked miracle convince Em to let you see Bree?” He jerked his head side to side. “That shit still isn’t gonna happen ’cause I’m her dad, and I say hell fuck no.”
Gerard’s brows wrinkled. “You—”
“Do the smart thing and leave, man.” Cuss now stood beside him.
Gerard hesitated, gaze flying behind Rip. After a moment, he walked away. Ripper watched him until Em’s father got into his beat-up truck and drove away. Only then Rip turned and spotted Trig, Mellow, Hash, and Bud. He nodded his thanks. Not in the mood for his bullshit, he avoided Bud’s eyes.
Heading for the office, he stopped just outside and pulled the door ajar a fraction of an inch. Em knelt in front of Bree.
“That was my grandpa?”
He wanted to know what she’d say. He kind of needed to know, too, so he stayed just outside the door and listened.
Em’s father showing out of nowhere, claiming he was sober and wanted to reconnect worried Ripper more than he cared to admit. He didn’t think Em would fall for that bullshit, but he couldn’t be too sure. People had a need to ask questions they knew the answers to. When the truth was ugly, people wanted to believe it wasn’t the truth, or they wanted to believe there was a good reason for that ugly truth. He’d asked himself time and time again why his mom left. She showed on his door, he may just ask her even though deep down he knew the answer.
“That man was your grandfather, but he’s not family… Bree, your family is your dad. It’s me. It’s this club. Your uncles Strike, Trig, Bud, Cuss, Army; your aunties Allie, Mia, Lynn, Tiff; Della, Cullen, and Tina, too, all of them are your family. They’ll never fail you.”
Fuck. He couldn’t believe she said it. He never expected her to say it, to believe it, and she thought it true. If she didn’t, she would’ve never said it to Bree. Swallowing thickly, he rubbed his palm over the burn in his chest.
“What about Uncle Chip?”
“Him too.”
“Why are you crying, Mommy?”
Damn it. It just occurred to him he hadn’t heard about Chip at all. That meant Em had probably been worrying about her cousin this whole time, and she’d never asked.
Em wiped her face. “Your Uncle Chip, he’s been sick.”
“I’ll pray, and he’ll get better. I know he will because I prayed for Daddy, and Daddy came. Remember, Mommy? We used to pray for Daddy.”
That ache in his chest compounded and sliced up his throat like a blade, a pain he now felt everywhere.
“Yes, baby. I remember. We can pray for Chip tonight. We’ll do it together.”
What the hell would happen if Chip died? How would they tell Bree? He didn’t know. What he did know—if Chip died, it’d destroy Em. Em had idolized the man ever since he saved her from her piece-of-shit father.
Ripper fully opened the door. Bree looked at him, and a smile spread across her face.
“Time for homework, ain’t it?”
She nodded. Em stood and faced him.
“You start while I talk to your mom a minute, yeah?”
Bree nodded again then went behind the desk for her book bag. He held open the door for Em then let it close after he walked out. Just outside the door, they stood barely a foot apart.
“You okay?”
She tilted her head. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
Smiling softy, she nodded. “Thanks for—”
“It’s not a big deal, Em.”
Her eyes softened. Then she grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “It is, Bryce. It so is.” She shook her head. “I was…”
Terrified. He knew, and he had a feeling she wouldn’t trust him with that. Then again, while he hadn’t been a dick to her recently, something she couldn’t’ve missed, he knew he had to gain her trust, something he decided that instant he’d do. He loved her, and though he still didn’t know if he could forgive her, he wanted to be there for her however she needed him to be.
“Thank you.”
He scanned her face. “Are you buying he’s sober?”
She shook her head. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”
He quirked a brow. “Yeah?”
She laughed, humorlessly. “Some wounds never heal.”
He agreed but couldn’t bring himself to say it, so without another word, he walked away.
****
Ripper’s eyes snapped open, and she was still there lying beside him. Her front pressed close to his side, her leg hiked over his, and her face against his shoulder.
Heaven.
That night, he’d gone to her and told her what he found out. Chip was no better, still in a coma. She angled her head away from his, but before she did, he saw her eyes water. He closed the distance between them, put his arms around her, and she let him. She then wrapped her arms around his waist and thanked him for the second time that day. It felt good doing something she wanted or needed, so he swore he’d start doing shit to get her to thank him again and again.
Knowing the real reason she left, he couldn’t stop thinking that none of it should’ve happened. He still didn’t know if he could forgive her, but he wanted her, and he made it a point to show her.
He kissed her then, kissed her until she practically begged him for it. He gave it to her hard and fast the first two times. Then he gave it to her nice and slow, just like he used to. He fell asleep moments after her. And now, she was still there, but he was awake, and he had no idea why.
A knock came then, loud and louder.
He looked to Em. Her blonde hair a mess, she hadn’t moved. Her eyes still closed. In the process of extricating himself, he heard another knock. He cursed under his breath swearing he’d kill whoever had knocked. They woke Em, and she got up and left, he’d be beyond pissed.
Rushing to the door, he managed to get a pair of shorts and pulled them on a second before he opened it, not caring who saw Em in his bed. He wanted everyone to know. Em was dressed, wearing one of his shirts, so it’s not like anyone would see anything they shouldn’t.
He met Strike’s gaze.
“Daddy?”
His head shot down. Bree’s eyes were wide, tears streaked her face, her hand clasping Strike’s.
The anger from having been woken faded fast. Deciding to comfort her first, he reached for her and pulled her against him, hugging her tightly. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I-I…” She took a shaky breath.
He wiped her face then threaded his fingers through her hair. Resting his hand on the back of her neck, he angled her face to his. “Tell me, Bree.”
“I can’t find Mommy. I…need Mommy.” She started sobbing.
“Shh…It’s okay, baby.”
“No, Daddy, it’s not. M-Mommy’s gone.”
He knelt in front of Bree. “Baby, your mom isn’t gone. She’s with me.”
She stopped crying.
He looked at Strike. He hated being jealous his baby girl needed her mom and had gone to Strike instead of him. This, he couldn’t show, not in front of Bree anyway. “Thanks, Strike. I’ll take care of this.”
Strike nodded then peered at Bree. “You’ll be okay, Jelly Bean.” He rubbed her head softly then strode away.
He waited until Strike was out of ear shot before he asked, “Why didn’t you come to me?”
“I did, Daddy, but you didn’t answer the door.”
Shit. He hadn’t heard her knock. It sucked not being there when his baby needed him. He swallowed then said, “I didn’t get it ’cause I was asleep, and I didn’t hear you knock. I heard it, I would’ve answered it. Yeah?”
She nodded.
“Next time, Bree, you knock harder, so I hear you. If I still don’t answer, you walk right in.”
She smiled softly then nodded again.
“If you need your mom, we can wake her, or you can tell me what you need, and maybe I can help.”
She took an unsteady breath. “I had a…a bad dream.”
He knew about bad dreams, about dreams so bad that you dreaded sleep. Up until a few weeks ago, his were of Em. He still dreamt of her, but now he knew where she was and he had her—a part of her anyway—so the dreams weren’t that bad. He didn’t know about Bree’s bad dreams though, and he didn’t know how to comfort a kid who had a bad dream. As a kid, no one comforted him.
His brows furrowed. “Yeah?”
She nodded.
He cocked a brow. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”
Looking away, she shook her head and wiped her face.
“What does your mom do when you have a bad dream?”
Her gaze moved to his. “She sleeps with me.”
He smiled. “How about I do you one better. You can sleep in bed with your mom and me.”
She smiled and nodded. He picked her up, carried her inside, and tucked her into bed between Em and him.
Sleeping with both his girls close, he fell asleep smiling.