I had my cousin Ben cornered almost exactly a year ago today. I had him, but then we fucking lost him. Well...he got away. “King’s” men and I were the first on the scene at the old barn house. We searched the place too, from fucking top to bottom. We searched every room. Including the one Vagabond had spent the first few months of her unknown pregnancy in. I shudder when I think of her carrying my child in those conditions. I shudder at my stupidity. Then I shudder because, for the life of me, I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Much like I didn’t then.
“King’s” men said that Ben was there. They said that they saw him, thought about making contact with him, even, despite my threats if they did before I got there. But, in the end, they didn’t. And when my men and I got there, he was fucking gone like the wind. I swear I vaguely heard the chords of Lynyrd Skynyrd's “Tuesday’s Gone” as I looked down the long dirt driveway and the wind kicked up dust in the shape of tornadoes after I’d finally conceded to myself that I’d lost him. Again.
And that was the last time we were even close, over a year ago, to catching him. Ben’s been a ghost ever since. His moves make no sense; it’s so random. If we get word, there’s never anyone who’ll back it up once we get there. And, when we got to the little town he was supposed to be holed up in, he was already fucking gone. The only people who will shelter him are the last of the SOS brothers who still associate with the chapters that continued to function in the sex trade and skin business. The sectors of the club my pops made certain he wanted put out of business before his death.
But I failed. It’s more than obvious now just how badly I’ve failed.
First, at trying to heal my physical body, and then at trying to heal my fractured mind. But I’ve let the club down. I’ve let my pops down. I’ve let my family down. And, now, these men running these organizations aren’t still only in business, but they’re fucking thriving.
Well, I won’t rest until the shit’s snuffed out and stopped. All of it. I can’t.
I can’t have my brothers—my family name—associated with the likes of that kinda shit! What if my daughter sees me today, on her birthday of all days, and decides to give me a chance? Huh? What then?
You expect me to just lie down and let fucking Beau Landry try to take my place in her life? Or fill my spot in my Vagabond’s life?
Insert hysterical laughter here. I’m sorry. Have you not met me? Have you been present for this fucking story? Any of it?!
Because that’s not how Jacques fucking Cain rolls. Never has been, never will be. I may have let uncertainty keep me away from my daughter before. I may have allowed my insecurities as a man, as the president of an MC, as a leader, weaken the confidence I needed to be a father. But it won’t stop me from being Apple’s. Not anymore. I’ve let it get between us for too long.
Come hell or high water. I’m ready for whatever the hell her momma wants to throw at me. But this is happening. And it’s happening today. I’ve already missed one birthday—I won’t lose another one.
I promise myself for the hundredth time while taking the exit ramp towards the part of New Orleans my Vagabond and my daughter have resided in over the last year without me.
Well...no longer, pipsqueak. Mark my words, no fucking longer. Especially after I let her in on my plans. But we won’t mention that. At least not yet anyway.
You could add all of my birthdays together and they still wouldn’t cost as much as my kid’s first birthday. Now, ask me if I’m offended at the amount of money “King” spent on her birthday. Ask me if it pissed me off.
Nope. Not one little bit. Even though the little people were offensive. Sorry—they freak me the fucking hell out. And when have you ever known me to be PC? I still had no problem immediately feeling comfortable amongst “King’s” men and a few of mine as Dreads and I watched my little girl run in circles and chase balloons with the other kids from afar.
“You gonna go say hi?” Dreads chuckles.
I glare at him. “You know I can’t. Not yet. What if Vagabond comes in and flips her shit while I’m introducing myself? Like that wouldn’t scar the shit out of the poor kid. No—I said I’m waiting on Eve, so I’m waiting on her. Then I’ll introduce myself to my daughter, okay?”
Dreads ducks his head when Eve finally walks in through the door, and though he steps to the side like he’s trying to escape, my hand whips out and hooks his elbow before he can step too far away. And, just as I see Beau walk into the main ballroom with his hand on the small of Eve’s back, mine clamps down even harder on Dreads’ arm.
She looks breathtaking even from my spot in the room. Her blood-red floor-length dress is almost too revealing even for my tastes, and I’ve seen some A-1 yoda women as well as some damn good trash. But, when the sleeve draped over her left shoulder falls, my vision damn near fades to the red color of her dress. And then Beau steps even closer to her.
“Oh. Hell. Fuck no. What’s this shit? I thought you said he called wanting to know what Apple wanted for her birthday. Not who would take her”—I snap my fingers, trying to remember the Cajun word Dreads said Apple uses for Pipsqueak—“maman to her party. What the fuck is this shit, man? I told you he was trying to fucking make a move on her!” When I realize how loud I’ve gotten, I quickly say a silent prayer, thanking God for all the loud Cajuns in the room.
“Dude, I said he called. I never said why he called ’cause Vagabond wouldn’t tell me. I will say you had to see this shit coming. Hell, I told you it was headed straight for you. I told you she was a diamond.” His high whistle causes Eve to turn, and when she first sees Dreads, she’s blushing…
Until her eyes land and then lock on mine. Then it’s an entirely different look altogether. She does step the fuck away from Beau though, thankfully. And all the blood drains from her face, so she instantly loses her blush.
And I can’t fucking help it. After shoving my hands into my front pockets, I shrug my shoulders at her. Then I wink as she advances towards me.
“Hey, you,” I mouth the words at her and jerk my head for her to come here when her steps falter.
I glance at the ground between where Dreads and I are standing. I want her to get farther the fuck away from Beau. I turn to Dreads, and for reasons unknown...I swear I think I growl.
“The fuck. Get him away from her. Keep him away from her. I don’t give a fuck if you have to fucking slit his throat. I want him away from her, even if that means I have to explain to ‘King’ why one of his youngest patch holders is no longer breathing!”
As soon as I see “King” slide into the room, I plaster a huge smile on my face, making sure my dimples are on full display right beside my pearly white teeth. Then I look in his direction, keeping Vagabond in my peripheral.
“Hey. How goes it, brother? Long time, no see. Plenty of speak though.” I cheers the bottle of beer he handed me with the lip of his crystal tumbler. Then I cut straight to the point. ’Cause I’m not feeling like dancing around the fucking bush right now.
“The hell is your boy Beau doing with our girl?” I motion to where she’s currently trying to escape his attention as he calls her name.
She dodges his hand for the second time in the crowded room but plays it off.
“Jacques, I thought for sure... With you being your ma’s kid, you’d know of all people. There’s no telling that girl anything. There’s no keeping that girl from anyone she wants to be with. Eve is a perfectly grown woman, and she’s perfectly capable of handling her own mind and making her own decisions. I’m just here to step in when she needs my help or asks for guidance. But this.” He points to the room first then to the birthday girl. “This she did all on her own. All by herself.”
“And Beau?” I growl, but my words are cut off. I’m glaring over “King’s” shoulder when I feel something stumble into my lower half and grab my knees.
At first, I wonder if it’s a little person who’s crashed into my knees and I’m almost afraid to look, but then, as “King” glances down and his eyes light up, I chance it and look down too.
“Ma chère, Apple. How are you, sweet bebe?” He dips down before scooping her up, and when he settles her on his hip, her eyes—her very dark, very familiar navy-blue eyes—land on mine.
“Pops, me want some cake, m’kay?” She looks between me and “King,” and for the life of me, I can’t find my lungs to tell them to breathe as her words register.
Pops.
She said Pops. Meaning me? I look at Renee.
Then my tongue tries to form the word, a word I’ve said a thousand times before. A word I called my own father at least another hundred thousand times before that. Pops. I mouth the word, looking back and forth between my baby girl’s blue eyes.
“Non, ma chère. What has your maman told you?” Renee says.
I notice the newest lines around “King’s” eyes for the first time and realize how much time I’ve let pass.
“I’m grand-père. Or pépère. Not Pops. I’m your maman’s pops, angel. Remember?” He coos at her then pretends to snatch her nose between his thumb and his forefinger. “Now...you go find her. Tell her you’re ready for your cake, my cher bebe. Let Grand-père speak business with the grown-ups. Yeah?”
Once she’s nodded and swiped some candy she must have already known was in his suit jacket pocket, she hops down and scurries towards her mother. Who just so happens to still be gawking at me from across the room as Ty and Beau continue to seemingly fuss around her.
Then, just like I’ve seen her do before, I witness her armor rise before she settles it on top of her fake smile. Suddenly, she’s as confident—or she appears just as confident—as she was when she first walked into the room, draped on Beau Landry’s damn arm ten minutes earlier.
Our daughter leaps into her arms, and Eve takes a second to adjust her before stalking in my direction. When Dreads steps closer, I laugh and wave him off. However, as I step forward and slightly nod, she interrupts me from speaking first.
“What do you think you’re doing here? If you think we’re doing this!” She points between us. “Right here, right now. Today. You are so wrong, buddy. So f-u-c-k-i-n-g wrong. Do you hear me?”
I will admit that, when she switched midsentence from saying the words to spelling them, it f-u-c-k-i-n-g threw me off. “Wait—what?” I sound the word out for a split second in my head. Then I realize what she’s spelling, before grunting and cutting her explanation off. “Never fu—”
Her soft hand suddenly comes out of nowhere and she presses it against my lips as her eyebrow slowly arches high. Then she quietly speaks. “Watch your mouth. Not in front of her.”
Pride unlike anything I’ve ever felt before swells so tight in my chest that I truly wonder if my ribs are gonna break from the pressure. Pride is what I feel for this woman. And, now, I remember that it isn’t the first time I’ve felt it concerning my Vagabond, either.
Her calm face, her quiet tone. Even her body language. It all keeps the small child completely oblivious from the shitstorm I’m ready to kick up.
Much like the windstorm of dust I saw when I lost my cousin, Ben, a damn year ago.
But I can’t let him get in the way of me and my daughter. Not anymore. I’ve already lost too much time with her.
Dreads taps my shoulder before I hear him whisper that he and “King” are headed out back.
I wave them on and count my lucky fucking stars. I keep the smooth smile across my face as “King” offers to take Apple outside with them. Which will give me and Eve the first small moment of time I’ve needed alone with her.
I don’t think she’d appreciate it if I did what I am about to do in front of her father or our daughter. After stepping as close to her as I can while her father is being ushered from the main lobby by Dreads with little Apple in tow, I realize she’s already literally put herself in the corner lurking behind her. And I can’t help myself—I advance on her, crowding her personal space even more than I already was.
“Good. I was hoping we’d get a moment to talk.” I can’t fucking help it. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I sweep my tongue out after nipping her earlobe between muttering my words in her ear. “I want you.” I pause and watch as she slowly pulls in a breath. Then she exhales, and I continue. “To find a moment. I know you can, and I know you will. I know you need this as much as I do.” I purposefully brush my lips against the side of her face and then smile against her ear. “If not for closure, then for something fucking else. Besides, you and I both know this conversation is nowhere near over. Do you understand me, Vagabond? Nowhere near it.”
“Okay.” Her breath shudders out again as her eyes softly close. And, after nervously licking her lips, she presses them together for a moment. “Maybe you’re right. Is that what you want me to say? There is unfinished business here. A vast, deep well of it.” She pulls slightly back and locks her eyes on mine. “But it’s not with me. You made that decision. Over a year ago. Any business here you need to finish is with your daughter. It’s between you and your child, and since I’m here, since I’m her only referee, I’ll tolerate interacting with you. Now...you tell me, Jacques. Is that understood?”
Well...well...well. I guess my little Pipsqueak finally did grow up. A smile as big as you please splits my face, and I’m sure the dimples are on full display. Hell, I think I even chuckle as a different kind of pride swells against my aching heart. I think of her when she was little and in the tree again for the thousandth time. I think of her when she was older, a few years back at her little beach house. Then I just fucking think...of nothing but her.
And, for the life of me, I can’t explain why I’ve never seen it. I can’t explain why I’ve been so goddamn adamant against her being my Jacqueline. If there ever were a woman who could fill my ma’s shoes, it’s this one. I scan her from her eyes to the tips of her toes then slowly, meticulously creep back up. And, as my eyes find hers again, the words fall out unbidden.
“I’m fucking proud of you, you know it?”
She slightly chokes and her eyes get big as saucers before she swallows. “W-what?” As she begins nervously running her hands up and down the front of her dress, she backs away and glances over my shoulder, looking for someone to help her escape. “Why do you say that? I don’t need to hear that from you. I don’t need anyone to be proud of me. I’m proud of myself.” She presses herself almost completely into the corner for a second. Then she crosses her arms over her chest before puffing it out.
And again—like always with this one—I can’t help it. I step even closer, placing my hands on her bare shoulders. I then brush my lips against her forehead before pulling her body flush with mine. But I make no other advances other than my lips barely on her head and my hands on her shoulders, both of us front to front.
Then I softly speak. “And you should be, Pipsqueak. There’s so much to be proud of. You’ve done an exceptional job with Apple, Eve. She’s so beautiful. So smart.” I squeeze her shoulders one last time before dropping them and grabbing her hands. “Just like her momma. I’m sorry for interrupting here today. I’ll see you around, okay, Vagabond? I want you to enjoy yourself. Don’t think about me. Don’t think about what’s gonna happen later today—”
“W-what’s gonna happen later today?” she whispers.
I tsk her before shaking my head. “Nuh uh uh. Don’t think about anything. Nothing. But today being our daughter’s birthday. Cancel whatever plans you had with Beau, too. He’s not gonna be around much longer if not. Capisce?” I raise my eyebrows and wait for what I’m saying to click, and when it does, I brush my lips against her forehead again. “Good girl.” Then I stalk towards the bar and motion for the bartender.
Leaving her standing right where I left her, momentarily at a loss.
“I’m gonna need a double scotch. Neat. And keep ’em coming, brother.” I glance over my shoulder at my prey. I don’t remember seeing Eve in red before, and now that I have, I wink at her as the thought strikes me
Goddamn, my colors look good on her.