Chapter Four
“Brother? You’re here?”
Ripper turned and met Strike’s stare. Glaring, he barked, “What the fuck does it look like to you?”
God, he was such a dick, all the time. He didn’t know how the hell his brothers put up with him. He couldn’t blame it on Emelia forever, could he?
Ripper lost her and wanted her back. So many times, he wondered what would’ve happened if she confronted him back then, if she told him her reason for leaving. He knew down to his bones he would’ve never let her go, would’ve found a way to make her stay. He wanted that, another chance, to know why, to make it better, to change her mind. Now, she was back. Instead of trying to do any of that, he was treating her like shit, still being a dick, to her, to his brothers.
Strike laughed. “Looks like you’re your usual self, too.” He quirked a brow. “Thought you were gone. Your girl’s bawling in the kitchen.”
His girl? Which one? Which one? There was only one—Bree. “Bree?”
“Yeah. Em was knocking on your door. I saw her and told her you were gone. Your girl started sobbing. She thinks you left her. That was like a half hour ago. She’s still at it, man. Em’s trying to…”
Ripper didn’t hear the rest of what Strike said because, on a dead run, he headed inside. Heart lodged in his throat, he slammed open the door leading into the compound then sprinted toward the sound of Bree’s sobs, leading him to the kitchen. As he neared, he heard Emelia’s voice. For some reason, he froze just out of sight and listened.
“Bree, baby, I promise you your dad is coming back.”
“B-but whhhyyyy he leaavvveee meee…”
“Your dad has to work. You know how I used to leave you at school, then I’d come get you?” She paused. “Well, your dad needs to work. It doesn’t mean he isn’t coming back.”
“B-but…” Her breathing hitched. “Before he was away b-because of woooork.”
Emelia told her that he hadn’t been around because of work? Lying to their daughter when the truth was she hadn’t told him about her. If he’d known about Bree, he never would’ve spent a day away.
Rage pulsing through him, he took a deep breath, and though he never prayed, he prayed then he wouldn’t strangle Emelia on sight for making his baby girl suffer, for making him suffer. Yet all that anger faded when it occurred to him… His beautiful Bree, even believing her mother’s lies, thinking his work was more important than her, loved him, wanted him around so much she was in tears thinking he wouldn’t come back.
His heart clenched so hard he swore any moment it’d explode inside his chest.
Maybe he had a rough life. Maybe Emelia leaving killed whatever good he had, but she gave him something too—his Bree.
“I know that’s what I said, but things have changed now,” Emelia said. “Why do you think he brought you here to live with him? It’s because he missed you so much because he loves you so much, he wants to see you every day, and he wants to spend time with you every day.”
Her fuck up aside, she was a good mother. Would he ever catch up?
Another sob tore through Bree. He moved, without thought, on instinct, not knowing what he planned to say or do to make her stop crying. At the threshold, he caught sight of Emelia, her back toward him, kneeling in front of Bree, whose eyes were swollen. Still not knowing what to say, what to do, he froze.
Bree’s red-rimmed eyes went to him. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. With her little hands, she wiped her tears quickly. But she didn’t go to him, she just stood there, brows furrowed, chin trembling. Emelia twisted, her gaze hit him. He fought not to look her way.
Emelia faced Bree. “See, baby, I told you your dad would come back. Why don’t you say good morning?”
Bree’s eyes watered again.
Shit. Why was she crying now? What should he do?
Bree’s stare shooting to Emelia, she asked in barely a whisper, “Is Daddy mad at me?”
Why would he be mad at his baby girl? He didn’t let Emelia speak. “I’m not mad, Bree. I wish you’d stop crying though. Don’t like to see my girl cry.”
With those words, Bree launched herself at him. He caught her under her arms and lifted her into his embrace. With her small body against his, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and simultaneously laced his fingers through her hair. “Mornin’, baby.”
“M-morning, Daddy.” Her breath hitched on the first word. Her little body jerked against his when she hiccupped.
Drawing away, he met her gaze. “Are you gonna tell me why you think I’m mad at you?”
She hesitated. “…Because I was…crying.”
“Let’s get a couple of things straight, ‘kay?” He kept his voice soft.
She nodded.
“Crying won’t make me mad at you. It’ll only make me sad ’cause I don’t want my girl crying. I want her happy, yeah?”
She smiled softly then nodded.
“Remember what I said yesterday? When I told you I wasn’t leaving you?”
She nodded.
“You gotta believe me, baby. You gotta believe I’m not leaving you, not ever. Sometimes, I won’t be around ’cause I gotta work. Sometimes work’ll take me far away. I may be gone for a couple of days, but it won’t be like before. I promise you I’ll always come back. I’m not ever leaving you, Bree, ever. You understand?”
Her eyes watered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his chest. Finally, she nodded.
He cupped the back of her head, kissed her forehead, and took a deep breath. God, she smelled good.
Pulling away, she asked, “Do you have to work today, Daddy?”
Yeah, he did. He should. He’d just become a father, meaning he needed extra cash more than ever. Not that he didn’t have a bunch in savings, but kids cost or so he heard. He was already five years late saving for her college, and he needed to make some adjustments to his house so by the time the shit storm with Chained and the Falcons was over, he could move her into a real home. For those reasons, he needed to work, but staring into her eyes, eyes that reminded him she was his baby girl, he couldn’t.
“Today’s just for you, Bree.”
He had to talk with Prez first, find out how the Falcons found Emelia and Bree, but then, he’d spend the day with her. Deciding this was worth it because Bree gave him this look, like he made the whole world better by just breathing. Then she smiled wide.
****
Angling her wrist to her face, Emelia checked her watch and learned only a couple of minutes had passed since the last time she checked.
After Bree’s crying fit that morning, Bryce carried her away. Emelia wanted to give them their privacy, so she hadn’t followed. She occupied her time by calling her landlord informing him she had a family emergency and left the state. She only had three months left on her lease, and breaking it meant she had to pay for those three months. That cut into her savings by more than half. Half of the rest of it would go in damages that occurred yesterday when her house was shot up. It sucked, but there was little she could do. She never had renter’s insurance, primarily because she couldn’t afford rent, her car, gas, food, etcetera for her and Bree on her salary. This meant she had to find a job faster than she thought. That brought another problem. She needed a car to get to a job because she couldn’t depend on Bryce or anyone else driving her daily. She had a car in New Mexico. The fifteen-year-old Honda had been close to dying, the reason she’d been saving.
Her landlord also told her she needed to contact the police, so she did. When she spoke to the detective investigating the shooting, she was brief, telling him she and her daughter left town for a family emergency before it happened. Luckily, there hadn’t been any witnesses who’d seen them leaving.
An hour later, she left her room, intent on finding Bryce. Strike told her he took off with Bree. That had been around ten in the morning. For nine hours, she hadn’t seen or heard from her daughter and Bryce, so she’d been standing outside for close to an hour. She wasn’t used to not being with Bree, wasn’t used to not knowing where she was. Being the sole provider and caregiver for the last almost five years assured that, so her nerves were expected. So many times, she’d been seconds from asking one of the brothers for Bryce’s number to call him. Every time, she stopped herself because he deserved time with Bree alone without her inferring or asking questions, questions that though were asked with good intentions would serve to make him think she didn’t trust him with their daughter.
Sighing heavily, she looked down at her feet then heard a familiar voice.
“Scared he ran off with your kid?”
Those words drew her away from her thoughts. She turned and met a pair of light hazel eyes. Bud hadn’t changed a bit. Dark hair framed his face and contrasted perfectly against his eyes. He always wore white V-neck shirts. She never asked why. He and Bryce had been close. It sounded odd to anyone else, but that was the way it was. Having seen it in Chained and Hell Ryders, she knew within the club, some brothers got along better than others. Bryce and Bud were best friends, always had been. Their friendship had been forged before they joined the club when they’d just been a couple of kids. They grew up on the same street in a rough neighborhood, so it’d been natural for her to wonder why amid everything that happened yesterday Bud hadn’t been with Bryce.
She straightened. “He wouldn’t do that.”
He laughed aloud though it was humorless. The sound died suddenly when his eyes hardened. “So sure ‘bout that?”
She hesitated only briefly then nodded.
Smirking, he shot back, “It’s been a long time, Em. People change. He ain’t the man you used to know.”
The message clear, one Bud didn’t need to deliver. The man she loved was long gone. He’d been gone before she left. She didn’t know when it happened. In reality, she didn’t even know if it happened. Maybe the man she fell for never existed. Maybe she lived two years thinking he was someone he wasn’t. Eventually, she discovered it, and it was the reason she left.
The difference now, the woman he’d known was long gone, too. Shit happened, and when it happened, it changed you. That’s what happened to her.
“I don’t think I ever knew him.”
She regretted saying it instantly because it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the first or last woman to be lied to, toyed with, and hurt. A part of her thought she deserved what she got. She knew better. Living with Chip and Track, she witnessed the way bikers lived. Rarely if ever did they settle down, and ninety-five percent of the ones who settled cheated, so she should’ve expected what she got. But she chose to believe the lie, a lie she wanted to believe because it was beautiful. In spite of everything, she loved him. It’s the reason even knowing everything she knew about bikers, everything she’d seen, she believed the lie until it stared her in the face, laughing.
His eyes widened, brows rose. Taking a menacing step in her direction, the lines of his face hardening, he barked, “What?”
She didn’t flinch, didn’t respond either, so they stood there in silence until he spoke again. This time, there was much more anger in his voice.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Again, she didn’t answer. She held still, her eyes never leaving his.
After a long moment, seemingly having figured out she wouldn’t answer, he looked away, clenched his jaw tightly, and met her stare. “Playing victim ain’t gonna work, babe. This is his club. We’re his brothers, and we ain’t falling for a bitch’s act.”
With those last words, he turned and strode inside, slamming the door shut on his way in.
She wasn’t insulted in the least. She expected it. Again, everything he said she knew to be true. Brothers in the club covered for each other, no matter the circumstance. She shouldn’t have said anything. A slip of the tongue, a glimpse of the woman she used to be that at that moment shone through. Bad timing, they already hated her for leaving the way she had, for taking Bree and not telling Bryce about her, no matter her reasons, so saying what she had only served to infuriate the lot of them.
Feeling like an idiot, she turned just in time to see an SUV drive into the lot. A second later, Bryce hopped out, strode around the car, and opened the back door. He reached in grabbing Bree then began walking toward her with Bree draped across his chest asleep. He had one arm under her butt and the other cupping the back of her head, clutching her to him. His head down, gaze on their daughter, he then lifted his stare, and his eyes met hers. The moment they did, they hardened, his jaw clenching.
He strode past her, releasing the back of Bree’s head for a spare moment to open the door. He marched through without bothering to hold the door for her, something he had done all those years ago. The fact he didn’t, another bitter reminder of her mistake.
Chest burning, she followed him inside through the garage toward the back door that led into the club’s compound. Again, he opened the door and walked through. She followed down the long corridor, past the large living area with several couches, where three others including Bud sat in front of the big screen TV watching a game. The moment they spotted Bryce with Bree, they quieted. Bryce sauntered through without sparing a glance at them toward another hallway. She tailed him, thinking it was nice of them to quiet down for Bree, thinking the bikers she’d known before wouldn’t have, thinking, perhaps, another brother had had kids, and it’s why they’d grown accustomed to doing this.
Bryce climbed the stairs and continued down another hall until he reached her and Bree’s room. Opening the door, he stepped inside and headed for the bed. There, he hovered over the mattress and placed Bree on it gently. Without needing to be told, he removed her shoes, covered her with the blanket, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to Bree’s forehead.
Emelia watched, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart clenched. Never in a million years would she have guessed the man who claimed he didn’t like kids, the man who claimed he never wanted to be a father, would be so tender.
He turned without meeting her gaze and lifted his chin in the direction of the door. This action, his silent command they talk outside. She shifted and headed for the door. Once outside, she met his glare. His eyes, that strange, beautiful blue-green color, the same that had once looked at her so lovingly, filled with hate, overflowing with anger and dead.
Still not used to seeing death in those eyes, she stuttered, “Um, I…”
“Don’t got all fuckin’ night. Say what you gotta say,” he sniped. His voice, too, filled with rage.
She tensed then swallowed. “I have some money in a savings account. Not much, but it’s something until I find a job here. I’d need…”
He took a step in her direction and leaned into her, looking so feral she had no choice but to trail off. “You’ve lost common sense over the last five years?”
She wanted to say no but instead mumbled, “I…”
“What don’t you get about the fact a street gang is trying to kill you?”
She thought he couldn’t possibly get more furious. Wrong. His posture stiff, eyes savage yet lifeless, and that wild look on his face proved it. Still, she went on. She had a daughter to support, couldn’t depend on him for everything.
“I have to find a job. I can’t just—”
Looking away from her, he muttered, “Fuckin’ deaf, too.” He then met her eyes. “Shut it, and listen. Chip hired a PI to find you, not the first he’s hired over the years but the best ’cause the PI found you and Bree, and it just so happens the PI sent Chip all that info to his phone an hour before the Falcons found him and shot him. They took his phone. That’s how they found you. That’s why they shot up your house. That means not only do they know about you, but they know about Bree. Any way they can find to track you and Bree, they will. That means no cell phone, and especially no leaving this place. I’m not gonna let you get killed ’cause you wanna be stubborn. I gave my word, and most importantly, ’cause my girl needs her mom.”
The muscle in his jaw twitched. “That means you aren’t working ’cause you aren’t leaving this place until this shit with Chained and the Falcons is done, so you’re not gonna work ’cause you can’t leave this place ’cause I’m not letting you. Get me now?”
“Okay.”
His brows rose, and then, he took a step away and stared, waiting, knowing she wasn’t done.
“Maybe there’s something I can do around here. Not that I expect to be paid since I’m living here and the club’s protecting me and especially Bree, but maybe there’s some way I can help out. Cleaning or cooking or whatever… Just talk to the guys and let me know.”
The tension leaving his shoulders, he crossed his arms over his chest, making the muscles along his arms bulge.
“And also…Bree needs a booster seat.”
Quirking a brow, for the first time in two days, he didn’t look angry but confused. It wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her either, but it was way better than livid.
“A what?”
“A car seat.”
He leaned in. His face went feral, eyes dead and narrowed, jaw clenched, brows furrowed. “You mean to tell me I’ve been driving around with Bree when I shouldn’t’ve been ’cause I don’t got a car seat for her?”
Yeah. She would’ve told him this but hadn’t had the chance before now considering they’d arrived just yesterday. She also had no idea he planned on taking Bree anywhere that day, but Em didn’t bother explaining. Pointless and stupid, considering he was irate again, and Bryce furious didn’t listen to explanations. All it’d do was cause an argument, and the fight she’d had vanished five years ago when she forced herself to walk away from him.
“Are you getting a kick outta making me look like a bad father?”
“No…” she whispered the word. “I know you’ll be a great—”
One minute he was feet away, the next in her face. She didn’t know how she did it, but she held still, without flinching.
“Don’t fuckin’ say it. Don’t you dare say it ’cause I can read through that fucked lie, and I’ll lose my shit. Trust me when I tell you, you don’t want to see that. You don’t want me to do it ’cause swear to God, I don’t know what the fuck I’ll do to you.”
She hadn’t lied. She always knew he’d be a great father because of how he’d been with her. She didn’t try to tell him this though, and she wouldn’t.
Then and there, it hit her like a sucker punch to the gut what she already knew to be true—he wasn’t the man she thought him to be all those years ago. The man she thought he was wouldn’t treat her this way, despite the fact she left with his kid because he knew why she left and why she had reason to. She wouldn’t tell him or remind him of this either. She’d let him take out his anger on her, believing she deserved it. Because the woman he’d known was long gone. With that went what made her her, feisty and fearless, a woman who didn’t put up with shit, a woman who fought back and dirty. And so, holding his eyes, she forced herself to remain still.
“Anything else?”
“Yes, we should discuss getting Bree in school. She’s four, but I had her in Pre-K—”
“Haven’t had her with me since she was born, so school can wait ’till next week.”
She nodded then bracing to feel that vile anger emanating from him again, she blurted, “Her birthday’s coming up. It’s the Sunday after next.”
He didn’t say a word. Then again, he didn’t have to. The look in his eyes went from dead to deadly. He held so still, hands in fists at his sides, close to losing it and doing everything in his power not to.
“I usually have a small party for her, invite her friends, but we can do whatever you want. I’ve always made her cake. I’d like to do that again, and if you want to have a small party for her, I can help with the decorations. We can do something simple, or if you want to spend time with her alone, that’s fine too. I’d still like to make her a cake. I know she loves them—”
Through gritted teeth, he said, “I’ll think ‘bout it.”
She nodded, tore her gaze from his, and strode into her room.
****
Ripper needed sleep and bad. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get more than a couple of hours. He tried, but his mind wouldn’t stop working, thinking about Bree and all he’d missed.
His baby girl would turn five soon, and just two days ago, he hadn’t known she existed. He missed everything those five years, and that made the rage inside him so strong it became an ache.
After the conversation with Emelia, he hopped on his bike and rode for hours. He then changed and went for a long run, close to six miles. Even after, he still felt that ache acutely, so he headed to the gym and attempted to further exhaust it out of him by slamming his fists against a punching bag repeatedly. He didn’t know how long he’d done that, but it was long enough his legs and arms gave out.
Still, that ache didn’t fade.
Still, his mind wouldn’t give it a rest.
He showered and trimmed his beard then lay on his bed, eyes wide open, for hours. Finally, he nodded off, only to wake with a start a few hours later when he dreamed a memory he tried hard to forget—the day he came home and found her gone.
Pulling himself out of bed, he headed to the bathroom. Showered and dressed, he walked out of his bedroom and headed to Bree. He didn’t bother to knock. Instead, he parted the door slowly and poked his head inside. The moment he did, his gaze locked with a pair of eyes the same color as his.
Bree sat up in bed. Smiling wide, she jumped off, dashed to him, and slammed into his legs. Reaching down, he picked her up and kissed her forehead. “Mornin’, baby.”
Her cheek pressed against his chest, her arms tightened around him. “Good morning, Daddy.”
He couldn’t help it. Before he strode away, he spared a glance at the bed where Emelia lay. Seeing that blonde hair of hers sprawled around her, he remembered something he’d forgotten. How often he woke with her thick mass of hair on him, smelling the flowery scent of her shampoo, how often he accidentally pulled on it when he put an elbow on the bed, and how often he threaded his fingers through it mindlessly. He hated the memory came to him, hated remembering.
Clenching his jaw, holding Bree tight, he reminded himself he got something wonderful out of it. He looked to Bree, moved away from the door, closed it, and set Bree on her feet. “What do you want for breakfast, baby?”
She put a finger to her chin. “Um…Pancakes.”
He smiled thinking they’d have to go out for breakfast. He didn’t know how to make pancakes and wasn’t even sure they were stocked for it. The only time he remembered having food at the compound consistently was when Allie, one of his brothers’ sister, lived there. She shopped, stocked the kitchen, and cooked for her brother. She always made plenty for the rest of them. Besides that, except once a month when they had the club cookouts, it was hard to find anything but beer and liquor. Allie, who the brothers called Classy, was now married to Trig. Though she often hung out at the compound, she never cooked for them anymore because Trig was selfish and kept her to himself most of the time.
Knowing this added another trip to his list, grocery shopping. Not that he’d cook, he didn’t even know how, and he wouldn’t test his skills or lack thereof on Bree. But Emelia cooked. If she cooked for Bree and him, maybe it’d keep her busy enough she’d get off his back about working.
“I’m gonna take you out to eat breakfast today. Then we need to get you a booster seat and buy some groceries. You cool hanging out with me all morning?”
She giggled, the sound of it lessening the deep ache that hadn’t yet abated.
In between those giggles, she said, “But Daddy, I have to get dressed first.”
He quirked a brow, scanned her clothes, noticing the Minnie Mouse PJ’s she had on, and smirked. “Thought you were dressed.”
She giggled some more. “I am, but Daddy, I can’t go out in my PJ’s.”
He hid a smile and cocked his head. “Why can’t you?”
“Because PJ’s are only to sleep.”
“My girl’s too smart for me.” He grinned. “You need help picking out an outfit, getting dressed?”
She shook her head.
Another bitter reminder of how much he missed. It hurt. No, it killed. Maybe if he’d had her all those years he missed, by now he’d know the rules about girls’ clothes, matching shoes, and all of that.
“Right. Then, I’ll wait for you here.”
He watched her go knowing hearing her giggle sounded better than anything had in his fucked life.
****
Ripper pulled into the front lot at the garage and parked. His mind on Bree who’d so sweetly announced she wanted to go to work with him and learn about cars and motorcycles. Sparing a glance at his seatbelt and unbuckling it, he did something he hadn’t done for ages but had done so often since Bree came into his life, something he couldn’t help but do when Bree was around. He grinned. The next minute, he hopped out of the car, opened Bree’s door, unbuckled her, and helped her out.
“You’ll teach me, right, Daddy?”
Her hand in his, he smiled and looked down at her as he led her toward the garage. “Yeah. I’ll teach you ‘bout whatever you wanna know.”
She stopped mid-stride. “What about the groceries?”
As planned, he took her to eat breakfast first. While they ate, he researched on his phone where to buy a booster seat for a four-year-old and found a store. After breakfast, of which she ate very little, they headed to the store. He didn’t say anything about her leaving more than half her food since it was a big breakfast. Honest, he didn’t know how much she should eat, something else he needed to find out and soon. Still, it worried him she hadn’t eaten as much as he thought she should. After purchasing a booster seat with excellent safety ratings, they went to the grocery store where he let Bree tell him what to buy. He, quite frankly, hadn’t been to a grocery store in years.
“Don’t worry about those. Boys’ll get them.”
The garage was busy as expected on a Tuesday morning. All five large, metal garage doors open, cars and bikes lined inside, worked on by his brothers. Walking through one of the metal doors, he scanned the area looking for the prospects. Spotting Beef striding out the door leading into the compound, he whistled loud. When Beef eyed him, he shouted, “Unload.” He nodded in the direction of his SUV and threw his keys at him.
He didn’t see if Beef caught them since Bree released his hand. His stare shot down, watching as she ran toward a group of his brothers, Blaze, Cuss, and Army, along with another man he didn’t recognize. They stood at the other end of the garage near the office. The man he didn’t know looked a lot like a cop. Dark-brown hair styled in a crew cut, clean-shaven, dressed like a detective in a pair of dark-blue Dockers, white button-down shirt, and a sports coat.
Ripper didn’t know what it was about cops, though it probably had a lot to do with the fact he spent his life avoiding them, but he could practically smell them. His assumption confirmed a second later when the man pulled his blue sports coat back to set his hand on his hip, giving Ripper view of the badge on his belt.
The cop wasn’t local. He knew all the local cops. He didn’t care what the cop had come for, and he didn’t need to either. His brothers seemed to be handling it just fine. The only reason he strode that way was because Bree was still running in that direction. He made a note to talk to her about running away, about running in the garage at all. He’d been a father for three days, but it didn’t take a genius to realize the garage, with so much heavy machinery and tools, wasn’t a safe place for her.
When Bree reached for the cop’s hand and tugged down, he quickened his pace.
Looking up at the cop as he looked down, his Bree said, “Shawn!” in her childlike exuberance. “Did you come to visit me and Mommy?”
Feet from them, Ripper froze because in that moment, three things became clear. His daughter and Emelia knew the cop. The cop wasn’t there by accident, and the cop wasn’t just a cop but a staple in their lives.
Rip figured this since a police department wouldn’t make a detective travel on their dime to ask a woman some questions about a shooting. They weren’t missing or in danger since the cop knew where they were. And so, the cop wasn’t just a cop. The cop knew Emelia and Bree well enough he noticed they were gone. He cared enough to find out where they went and paid for a flight to get to them. A man who did this did it because he wasn’t just a friend. The man was involved with Emelia and knew his kid better than he did.
Realizing this tore the ache that had begun to fade after spending the morning with Bree wide open. Ripper didn’t know how he managed it, but he held still fighting with everything in him not to do what he wanted to—haul his daughter away from the cop and beat the living daylights out of him then find Emelia and lock her in a room for five years. Only then, she’d know what it felt like not to be a part of her daughter’s life.
As those thoughts ran through his mind, the cop smiled at his daughter and lightly cupped her face. “Yeah, Bree, I came to visit.”
The cop smiled at his daughter. He cupped her face, looking at her with familiarity and called her “Bree.”
So fucked. It made another thing very clear. Emelia thought Ripper wouldn’t make a good father, so she’d left him without so much as a goodbye, without telling him why, without telling him about his daughter and found herself the complete opposite of him—a cop, a cop she fucked and helped her raise his kid.
Just then, Bree turned to him. Releasing the cop’s hand, she took three steps his way, grabbed hold of his hand, and said with that same enthusiasm, “Daddy, Shawn came to visit me and Mommy.” She faced the cop. “This is my daddy. Mommy and me are going to live with him.”
She sounded so excited even as the smile on the cop’s face faded. To Ripper, that only further proved what he thought to be true.
Cops were experts with poker faces. They had to be to get people to confess to shit, so his smile fading meant that what Bree said rocked his world. It proved the cop wasn’t just a cop, but a cop who was fucking his kid’s mother. With that look, the cop confirmed he’d fallen for Emelia. Rip should feel bad for the guy knowing she was stone cold, knowing the cop, like him, was just another man she up and left without so much as a goodbye, but Rip couldn’t summon even a little bit of sympathy while his chest burned with envy. The bastard had her as little as three days ago. The taste of her was probably still in his mouth whereas all Rip had were pieces of fading memories. The only lasting ones—the ones that killed to remember.
The cop’s green gaze sliced to him.
Ripper saw it then, the pain. It was such a blow the cop didn’t have it in him to hide. That was the thing with matters of the heart. No matter how badass or tough you were, that shit got to you. You couldn’t hide it, couldn’t fight it. It fucking hurt, so no matter how good at poker you were, people read it in your actions and movements and especially, in your eyes.
His brothers, Cuss, Blaze, and Army, closed in around him, probably figuring he was close to flipping his lid. If it hadn’t been for Bree being there, he would’ve already done something stupid like assault a cop.
His gaze still locked on the cop’s, he said to Bree, “Baby, go inside with your Uncle Cuss. I need a moment, ‘kay?”
Not sensing her move or release his hand, he tilted his head to her. Eyes rounded, a pensive look on her pretty face, she was too smart. Already he knew this, so he lied though he hated to do it. “Everything’s fine, baby. Go play. Then we’ll get lunch.”
Even then, she looked unsure, brows drawn, lips parted slightly, but she was a good kid, proved it when she nodded, released his hand, and took Cuss’s, who had his held out to her. Ripper watched them until they were out of ear shot and out of sight.
Turning his attention to the cop, he held his glare.
“Name’s Shawn Martin. I came to see Em.”
“I know why you’re here and what it means ’cause the fact you’re here tells me why you’re here. What you gotta get is I don’t give a fuck you spent your cop salary on a flight here, you ain’t seeing my kid again. When you leave, you ain’t taking my kid. Her mom wants to go with you, that’s her choice, but no one is taking my kid. No one. I don’t care that you’re a cop. Don’t give a fuck that’s her mom. You or her get any bright ideas ‘bout involving the law in this shit, I don’t give a shit ‘bout that either ’cause at the end of the day, my kid’s staying with me until she’s out on her own.”
He further narrowed his eyes. “I lived the past five years without her, not even knowing she existed, so I’ll repeat no one is taking Bree from me.”
The cop didn’t react, so Ripper had no idea if he knew, if Emelia told him about him, about the fact she left without telling him. Not that it mattered, Rip didn’t care. All he cared about was Bree, and no matter how much the cop pleaded, no matter how good the cop gave it to Emelia, how good of a father figure Emelia thought the cop was to his Bree, she wouldn’t leave. Rip was sure of this. She left men on the drop of a dime, but she wouldn’t leave Bree. She loved Bree more than anything in this world. It was clear from just the look in her eyes when she looked Bree’s way.
“I gotta say I wanna feel bad for you for getting involved with her. I know what that shit’s like. The thing is I can’t. Piece of advice, make sure she isn’t pregnant with your kid too before you take off ’cause you’ll miss years you’ll never get back, and nothing, not even what you’re feeling now, compares to the loss of that.”
With those final words, Ripper strode away.