I pull up outside the softball field. I can’t wait to see Tiffany play! I climb out of my car and see a shit ton of bikes lining the back of the bleachers. It seems the whole club has showed up.

I turn the corner and look out into the field, and Tiffany waves at me. She is so stinking cute in her softball uniform.

“Doll!” Lane yells. He is standing in the bleachers; almost a whole section is dedicated to the Grim Sinners. Lane walks down the steps.

“I could have walked up there myself.”

“Babe, I am a gentleman—what can I say?”

I roll my eyes. “Is that what it is called when you’re fucking me into that wall?”

He laughs and pulls me up the steps. “I am the best kind of gentleman.” He winks, which causes me to shake my head, grinning.

I love his kind of gentleman; he is perfect. He is amazing in bed, but he is a sweetheart. He pretends that he isn’t but he is. Lane is the best father, and he is a complete softy to me and Tiffany, but he is an asshole to everyone else.

Eyes are all over us as we walk up the bleachers, and people cower away from us as we walk past them. Pussies. I eye the men wearing knit sweaters and the women beside them, who look like they’ve got sticks so far up their asses they can’t even move. One of them gives me a stink eye and turns away. She needs to get a good fuck and she may get the stick out of her ass. Bitch.

“Behave,” Lane growls.

I give him the stink eye. “I can’t help it that stuck-up bitches get on my nerves.”

He chuckles at my sass, and I step in front of him to take my seat next to Brittany—who is sitting near Derek, who has the biggest crush on her. I see him staring down her shirt.

I snort, raising my eyebrows at him, and he looks away from her.

Brittany leans toward me. “He was staring at my tits, wasn’t he?”

“Mm-hm,” I mumble and she laughs under her breath.

Brittany is drop-dead gorgeous and reminds me a lot of Ashley Graham. I can’t wait to see how she and Derek play out. He is dark to her light. She has this glow about her that lights up a room, and Derek is quiet, dark, and mean as hell.

Everyone starts clapping and the game starts. Tiffany runs to the outfield, and I stand up yelling, “Go cougars!”

Lane laughs and people glare at me for being so loud, but do I care? No. Tiffany waves and I blow her a kiss. I sit back down on the edge of my seat, feeling anxious, as the game starts unfolding around me. A little girl hits the ball and it shoots to the outfield. Tiffany runs and jumps, catching it.

“THAT’S MY GIRL!” I scream, jumping and down, and I shake Lane’s shoulder. “Did you see that?” I hear booming laughter, and I look around to see everyone laughing at me.

I sit back down; I need to get it together. Lane wraps his arm around me and kisses the side of my head. “I love you.”

I tilt my head back and kiss the underside of his jaw.

A few minutes later it’s time for Tiffany to bat, and I lean forward watching her anxiously. She misses the first ball. She drags her foot against the ground and resituates herself. They throw the ball again and she hits it. It sails way out into the field and she runs to first base, then to second.

I watch in complete disbelief as a little girl trips her as she heads to third base. Tiffany falls straight to the ground, her hands catching her before she face plants.

I gasp and stand up, and the others do the same thing. Tiffany pushes herself off the ground, her head swinging around to look at the girl who tripped her.

“Oh fuck!” Someone says behind me and I nod. Tiffany is grinning ear to ear at the girl who tripped her.

“Well, Tiffany caught the bug,” Smiley says and lets out a booming laugh.

“Tiffany!” Lane yells and she looks up. Lane is shaking his head. She relaxes but continues giving the little girl a death look.

I smother my laughter at Lane’s expression. He is amused, but he’s also got the look of a father who is in for it. Apparently, it’s a contagious thing. Smiley and Shaylin beat people’s asses, but do it smiling the whole time.

“I am going to go to the bathroom.”

The bathroom is behind the bleachers, and I hurry so I can go back to watching Tiffany. Once I leave the beautiful Porta Potty, I see Tiffany sitting against the fence in the dugout.

She waves me over. “Can you tell Dad all of my teammates are going for pizza after?”

“I sure will, Baby.”

I go to the concession stand to get water. As I pay for it, a woman is leaning against the wall staring at Tiffany.

Why is she staring at Tiffany?

The woman finally tears her eyes off of Tiffany and looks at me. “Your daughter is beautiful.”

I almost tell her that she isn’t my daughter. “Thank you, she is—her looks are all from her dad.”

Her eyes narrow and she walks away. Well is this strange or what?

* * *

“You did amazing, Baby Girl,” Lane says. She was a huge factor in the team’s win. She is amazing at softball, but I have a feeling she is amazing at everything she does—or I may be biased.

Lane is carrying her bag over his shoulder. Tiffany is between me and Lane, holding our hands.

“Thanks, Daddy.” She grins happily and waves at one of her little friends across the parking lot.

“No,” she whispers in horror, and I follow her gaze to see the woman at the concession stand, who is waving at her. She bursts out in heartbreaking sobs.

“Baby?” Lane picks her up, and her body is shaking so hard. I touch her back and look at the woman, ready to beat her for causing Tiffany to cry, but she is gone.

“Tiffany, what is it?”

“I saw Mom.” She’s struggling to speak through her sobs.

I suck in a sharp breath. The woman was there for Tiffany; she is fucking with her. Lane looks at me.

“A woman was asking about Tiffany at the concession stand, and the same woman was just waving at her.”

Lane’s face turns murderous and his jaw clenches, but he turns away from Tiffany so she can’t see his anger. I open the truck door and set her softball bag inside.

“Don’t let her take me,” she begs, and my heart shatters into a million little pieces. Tears well up in my eyes; I am hurting because she is hurting. It isn’t fair that she should deal with this. This woman is fucking with her and the next time I see her, her ass is grass.

“Baby, she will never take you from me. Ever. You are mine; she has nothing to do with you anymore,” Lane says, and I touch her back, letting her know I am here too.

She nods and loosens her grip on Lane. She had a death grip, like she was afraid she was going to be torn away.

I hate this woman. I hate her so fucking much. What kind of person does this? Lane lifts Tiffany into the truck, and she sits in her booster seat. Her face is red from crying, making my heart hurt ten times worse.

Lane shuts the door, turning his back to Tiffany, and I touch his chest.

“Lane, don’t blow up now. Wait until she is asleep.”

He lets out a deep, ragged breath. I will never forget the sound of her begging Lane not to allow her to be taken away.

Lane opens the passenger door and helps me inside. “Tiffany, this weekend me and you are having a girls’ day. How’s that sound?”

She sniffs and uses the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. “That sounds like fun, Amelia.”

Lane nods. At this point I would do anything to cheer her up.

“Daddy, can we just go home and have a movie night with Amelia?”

Lane glances at me and I look at my car. “I will follow you guys to your house.”

Lane waits until I start my car before he drives out of the lot. I shoot him a text letting him know I am stopping for gas.

After I pull up next to a gas pump, I hurry inside to pay. The urge to get to Tiffany is strong.

I open the door to the store and stop dead in my tracks. Tiffany’s mother is standing directly in front of me.

Oh, it’s on.

Her eyes widen as she takes in my expression. I throw my keys to the ground. I take the hair tie off my wrist and throw my hair up in a bun at the top of my head.

“Look…” That’s all she gets out before my fist lands on her mouth. She jumps back and I grab her hair, tilting her head to the side. I bring my fist back again and hit her hard, again and again. She tries to swing on me.

I laugh at her pitiful jab and punch her, as hard as I can, on the nose. She stumbles and her butt hits the ground, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing to pound her face.

She pulls my hair trying to get me off of her, but I slam her head hard on the ground and wrap my hand around her throat. “You will never go around Tiffany again, you hear me?” I bend down over her face, putting pressure against her throat. Her face is beaten almost beyond recognition. “You do and you’re dead.”

She nods and smacks me. I laugh and punch her again. I hear police sirens. She tries to buck me off of her and I punch her again, this time on the cheekbone.

I hear someone running toward me, and I am pulled off of her. She sits up, and I see a huge part of her hair is missing. I realize a wad of hair is in my hand.

Oops.

Her face is battered and bleeding, and her nose is completely turned to the side. She opens her mouth to say something to another cop, and I see she is missing a few teeth.

She deserved every bit of this.

A few minutes later, I am put in handcuffs and stuffed into the back of a police car. Luckily, I got the police to lock my car for me.

She is shoved into another police car, also in handcuffs. The paramedic cleaned her up and said she didn’t need a hospital; she is just fucked up bad. It’s a total bummer she doesn’t need a hospital.

The police officer gets in and I am off to the station. Well, I hope Lane uses some favors so I can get out quickly, but it was worth it. She deserved a lot more than what she got—that’s for sure.