Chapter Six
Showered and dressed, Emelia headed down the stairs intent on getting dinner started. Clearing the wall leading into the living room, she heard a voice. A woman’s, it was unusual to find a woman, any woman, at the compound on a Wednesday especially considering it was barely six.
The brothers liked women and had plenty to choose from especially those who liked bikers and didn’t mind being shared. The brothers called them taps, but from what Em remembered, none hung out at the compound or stayed indefinitely. The brothers liked their privacy, so unless there was a party or unless a woman was an old lady, women didn’t stick around. They weren’t seen or heard at the compound. Plain and simple. Knowing this, Emelia figured either that rule changed or the woman, whoever she was, meant something to one of the brothers.
“Bree,” the woman said, softly.
Em stiffened and stayed out of sight. After several seconds, she peeked from behind the wall and spotted a petite brunette.
She knew from one look the woman wasn’t a tap. First, the brunette didn’t dress like one. Instead of a miniskirt and tiny tank, the usual dress code for taps, the woman wore a pair of well-fitted skinny jeans, peach-colored blouse, and a pair of platform sandals. Em couldn’t see her face because the woman was at an angle, looking down at Bree, the woman’s loose, dark hair falling past her shoulder blocking her face. Second, the way the woman spoke to Bree and handed her a bag her daughter opened and pulled out a frilly pink dress, a dress Em knew Bree would love.
Em’s gaze veered to Bryce, sitting on the couch a foot away from where Bree and the woman stood. His stare on them, a smile spread across his face, looking proud to have his daughter and the woman making friends.
Chest clenching, stomach tightening, a feeling of lightheadedness came over Em. She couldn’t move even if she wanted to, couldn’t peel her eyes away from the perfect picture they painted.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it before, why it never occurred to her he’d moved on. Maybe her mangled mind protecting her heart refused to acknowledge the possibility.
Five years had passed. At thirty-four, maybe he’d changed and decided to settle down. Maybe he liked to have a steady woman, like he had her, and still liked to party on the side. Or maybe, just maybe, he loved the brunette. Maybe Em just hadn’t been enough for him. Maybe the brunette was.
Her heart squeezed so tight she couldn’t breathe. Of their own accord, her eyes welled.
The woman shifted. Her head shot up, and her hazel gaze landed on Em. The woman, Bryce’s woman, was stunning. Em didn’t know why it made a difference, beautiful or not, it wasn’t her.
The magnitude of everything Em felt nearly knocked her off her feet. Another slap in the face, another reminder of how much Em cared. Despite what he’d done, despite the fact she left, she still loved him. She never stopped.
“Hi.”
Shit. She wanted to disappear, right at that moment. “Hi.”
Smiling widely, the woman closed the distance between them until a mere foot away. “I’m Allie. You must be Em.”
Allie, the beautiful brunette, further proved she was nice, easy-going, and had confidence, the type of natural confidence that came when a woman had a good life, a good upbringing, and had always felt secure in herself. It’s how she’d so easily been able to introduce herself to her man’s ex and the mother of his daughter, seemingly without a care in the world.
“Yes.”
“Mommy, look!”
Thankful for the reprieve, Em slid her stare to Bree, holding the pretty, frilly dress over herself, the dress her father’s girlfriend gave her.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, meaning it. “Did you say ‘thank you?’”
Bree nodded.
“She did, but there’s no need.”
Of course, the gorgeous, kind woman would say that.
“Allie!”
Allie turned just in time to lean over and catch a small girl around Bree’s age as she crashed into her. The girl with dark-brown hair, wearing a pair of shorts, pink T-shirt, and mary-jane’s, wrapped her arms around Allie, hugging her tight.
Laughing, Allie did the same. “Hey, Della, how was school?”
The girl didn’t get a chance to answer. Trig, one of the brothers, strode into the living room. “Del, you keep running into Allie like that, you’re gonna knock her off her feet.”
The girl, Della, faced Trig. When she turned back to Allie, her cheeks had gone rosy. “Sorry, Allie.”
Allie tucked the girl’s hair behind her ear. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
Trig closed the distance between himself, Allie, and Della. He then cupped the back of Allie’s head, dragged her to him, leaned down, and pressed his mouth to Allie’s.
Em’s lips parted. Her gaze shifted to Bryce, sitting on the couch. His eyes glued to the TV. She looked at Allie and Trig in time to see Trig trail his mouth down Allie’s neck.
“Missed you, baby.”
He said it loud enough Em heard, loud enough Bryce had to have heard too, and Trig said it easily like he didn’t care who heard.
Allie drew away from Trig and met his gaze. “Missed you, too, honey. How was your day?”
Trig smiled. “Better now.”
Oh, God. Thank God. Allie wasn’t Bryce’s but Trig’s. A weight lifted off her chest, Em took a deep breath.
Trig looked down at Della. “You met Bree yet?”
Della shook her head then introductions were made. Em learned Della was Trig’s niece, just eleven months older than Bree. Come Monday, they’d attend the same school. Bree, still only four was in pre-K, Della in kindergarten.
Em’s gaze cut to her right as another brunette strode in, taller with green eyes wearing a pair of jeans and a fitted top that accentuated her small pregnant belly. In her hands, she held a casserole dish covered with aluminum foil. Clearly, she wasn’t a tap either. Who she belonged to revealed a moment later when a very annoyed looking Cuss appeared behind her, holding another large casserole dish. Five years ago, Cuss had been a prospect along with Trig and Army, and Cuss had a reputation—the biker who could bed any woman with one look. Now, he tailed this beautiful woman, not a tap, and clearly pregnant.
His jaw hardened. “Baby girl.”
The brunette stopped abruptly, smiled, and turned to him. “Thomas.”
He lifted a brow. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“Because I can carry a tray of lasagna,” she shot back. From her voice, Emelia knew the brunette teased.
Cuss, aka Thomas, narrowed his eyes, snaked his arm around the brunette’s waist, and tugged her to him until the dish she held in her hands hit his chest. “You’re treadin’ on thin ice, baby girl.”
The brunette got on the tips of her toes and leaned up to press her lips against his. Being too short for his more than six-foot-tall frame, she waited.
Cuss’s gaze went from her eyes to her lips then back to her stare. Finally, he slipped his arm from her waist to the back of her neck, clutching her as he simultaneously leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers. A long kiss, long enough he released her neck and removed the tray she held in her grasp. “Don’t push your luck, or I’ll be carrying your ass home.”
The brunette turned and met Em’s stare, making her realize she’d been staring.
She closed the distance between them and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Tiffany.”
Em glanced down at it then shook it. “Emelia.”
The pretty brunette, Tiffany, smiled. “I know. Nice to meet you.”
Before she responded, Tiffany turned and greeted Allie, Trig, Bryce, Della, and finally introduced herself to Bree, making friends with Della.
Taking the chance to leave, Emelia forced a smile. “Nice to meet you both, I should go. I have to get dinner started.”
“No need. Tiff made lasagna. Trust me when I say you do not want to miss out on her lasagna. I guarantee it’s better than any lasagna you’ve ever had.” Allie smiled.
“I don’t know about that, but I do know there’s plenty for you, Bree, and Rip,” Tiffany added.
Emelia’s gaze went to Bryce, staring her way with those dead eyes. He hesitated a moment before shrugged. Losing sight of his eyes, she met Tiffany’s. “Thanks. Can I help you with anything?”
“Lasagna’s done. I just need to put it in the oven and let it heat, but we’re making bruschetta and salad. You’re more than welcome to help us with that.”
She nodded and followed Allie, Tiffany, and Cuss into the kitchen. Large and open concept, countertops lined the entirety and included a breakfast counter area leading into a dining room.
Cuss loaded the lasagnas in the oven then kissed Tiffany square on the lips before he walked to the fridge and grabbed three beers, presumably for Trig, Bryce, and himself then left. Em turned to meet Tiffany and Allie’s gazes and waited for instruction. She never got them. Instead, she heard a very familiar voice.
“So it’s true.”
Em closed her eyes tightly and took a breath before turning to meet Mia’s gaze. A brunette with curves and spunk, Mia had started dating Stone a few months before Em left, but Stone didn’t hesitate to claim her. For those few months, Mia and she had been the only old ladies around. Naturally, they became good friends.
When Em left, not only didn’t she tell Bryce or Chip, she never told Mia. She wanted to, but telling Mia or calling her after she settled in New Mexico was a risk, one she couldn’t take. Staring at Mia then, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. She swallowed to fight the emotion.
“When I heard, I couldn’t believe it.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so Em said nothing.
“It’s been a long time, Em.”
Finding her voice, she nodded. “Yeah, it has.”
“Met Bree. She looks just like you.” Mia’s gaze traveled from the top of her head to her toes then back up again. “She’s a replica, except, of course, for her eyes.”
This, she knew. Again, she said nothing.
“Congrats.”
“Thanks.”
“See you’ve met Allie and Tiff.”
Em nodded.
“Things have changed quite a bit here. I’ll fill you in.”
Not what she expected her to say. She expected Mia to be angry, like Bryce, like the brothers, like everyone except Allie and Tiffany, though she hadn’t expected them to be nice to her either. A surprise, a very pleasant one. She meant to say something but then another woman, a blonde with green eyes, wearing a pair of hip hugging jeans and a Harley tank, walked in.
Smiling, the blonde closed the distance between them. “Em, right? It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Lynn.” Then the blonde, Lynn, did the strangest thing. She hugged her.
Shocking, and nice, so nice, Em couldn’t help but return the hug. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Lynn pulled away. “Sorry, I’m a hugger.”
“It’s…ah…okay.”
“Still drinking beer?”
Emelia looked at Mia, now standing by the fridge. She nodded. Mia grabbed four light beers then set them on the counter and uncapped them. She handed them out to Allie, Lynn, and Em, keeping one for herself.
“Thanks.”
Mia nodded then shifted to Tiffany, standing by the counter next to the sink chopping romaine lettuce. “You should do that while you’re sitting, so Cuss doesn’t come in here and bitch.”
Tiffany turned then, looking resigned, shook her head and did exactly as Mia suggested.
“Now that we have drinks and Tiff’s settled, you and me should talk.” Mia’s comment directed at Em.
Mia didn’t give her a chance to respond. Grabbing her hand, she pulled her to the other end of the room, where the dining room should be, except there wasn’t a table or chairs, just several sofas, the same raggedy ones that had been there five years before.
Mia took a seat, tugging her down beside her. “Don’t know why you left, but I always assumed it had something to do with Chained and Hell Ryders being at odds.”
Just like Mia: no fuss, no muss, and blunt to a fault. Still, Em, wondering why these women welcomed her into their lives as if she hadn’t left Bryce and taken his daughter without so much as telling him, hadn’t expected it. She appreciated them for it but couldn’t confide in them, not even Mia, with her reasons for leaving. Besides, the real reason, she couldn’t even say out loud.
After a long moment of silence, Mia shrugged. “Right. Well, I had to try.” She took a sip of her beer. “I’m not mad, Em. I’m not trying to play you either. I know why you didn’t tell me back then. I also know there’s a lot more to the story than meets the eye, and I know this because I know you. Maybe I’m stubborn, but I refuse to believe I was wrong about you. You left. I know you had a good reason even though for the life of me, I haven’t been able to figure it out.”
God, that made her feel good and sad. She’d left a good friend behind. Not hard to guess then that the other old ladies had welcomed her because of Mia.
“Anyway…” Mia went on as if she’d said nothing significant. “As you can see, things have changed quite a bit around here. I married Stone three years ago now. Lynn and Wild are hitched too. Just recently, Trig met Allie, who’s Army’s sister. The brothers call her ‘Classy,’ except Cuss who calls her ‘Miracle.’ You want a good laugh, whenever he does, look at Trig. It pisses him off. Allie and Trig are married too. Just recent, Tiff and Cuss got hitched. Watch them closely too, and you’ll get a laugh because ever since he knocked her up, he’s been overly protective…”
Mia lifted a brow. “Well, you know bikers… When they claim a woman, they’re a bit overbearing. After finding out Tiff was pregnant, Cuss kicked it up a couple of notches. It’s annoying for her, but funny and amusing to the rest of us.” Mia chuckled.
Em knew that. Bryce had been overbearing and jealous. She never minded it. It’d been one of the things he did that made her believe he loved her even though he never said the words.
Em took her first sip of beer, wondering if Cuss had ever cheated. Then she wondered if Stone had, if Wild or Trig had. Maybe. Then again, maybe not. After all, they’d married their women, made it official, law-binding. They probably said the words, too.
“Em?”
She’d been too lost in her thoughts. Meeting Mia’s gaze, she finally said, “Good to know.”
“Hey…”
That simple word, the soft way Mia said it, Em realized she’d let her guard down.
“You need a friend, I’m here.”
She swallowed, took another sip of beer, and nodded.
“Come on…” Mia stood from the couch. “You need to get to know the rest of the girls.”
Em stood.
“Listen to us talk about crap, and you’ll forget whatever’s bothering you, even if just for a second.”
Turned out, Mia was right. She listened to Lynn, Allie, Tiff, and Mia talk about everything and anything, nothing too important or heavy. She enjoyed the easy camaraderie between the women and partook in the conversations. For a couple of hours, she let herself believe she was just another woman enjoying a drink with friends, and she forgot.
****
“Daddy, what’s this called?”
Ripper drew his head from under the hood of a ‘67 Chevy and met his daughter’s inquisitive stare. She sat on a chair he’d pulled out of the office and set just beside him.
Bree wanted to go to work with him. He’d made it happen. Quite a picture they painted with her beside him, wearing a pink t-shirt, jean shorts, and a pair of sneakers, holding a tool in her hand.
He smiled. “It’s a wrench.”
Her brows drew together. “It’s very dirty.” She looked at it then back at him. “It’s greasy, and so are you, Daddy.”
He chuckled out loud. He’d done it and not just imagined it. Several of his brothers, working around the garage, halted and looked his way. Not wanting to get pissed, he ignored them. He didn’t hide his amusement after that either. It’d been so long since he’d laughed, he’d forgotten how it sounded, and how good it felt.
“Yeah, baby. Comes with the job.”
“Why don’t you clean your tools? Then you wouldn’t be dirty.”
So logical, that got another chuckle out of him. “You’re right, but then we’d be spending a lot of time cleaning tools instead of fixing cars.”
That seemed to settle her curiosity. As she set the wrench down, he went back to work.
A moment later, he heard, “Can you tell me a story about you and Mommy?”
He lifted his head so fast he banged the back of it against the hood of the car. Biting back a curse, he straightened and looked her way. “What?”
“Mommy tells me stories about you. Maybe you can tell me stories about her.”
Emelia told their daughter stories about him? He could just imagine what stories she told. When they met, Hell Ryders was involved in dirty dealings—running guns and drugs across state borders. They partnered with Chained to do just that. It’s how he met Emelia. A couple of years later, the club got clean and severed ties with Chained.
None of this, he was proud of. He’d been one of the brothers who voted to end that shit for good, but it didn’t mean Emelia would excuse it. Hell, she ran away and hooked up with a cop because she hadn’t thought he’d make a good father. Even if she never told Bree, Emelia couldn’t have had anything good to say about him after she left him.
How badly he wished he could hate her.
Fighting anger, he clenched his jaw, took a deep breath then schooled his voice before he spoke. “Go hang out with your Uncle Trig for a sec, ‘kay?”
Bree, picking up on the sudden change in him, tensed. He supposed as much as he tried to hide it, he couldn’t. Plus, she was a smart kid. He already learned that, which meant he needed to get better at concealing his anger.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, she nodded. He watched her go and waited until she reached Trig, standing near the office talking to Army. When Trig spotted her then him, Rip lifted his chin. Trig nodded, understanding his silent command. Only then did Ripper walk to the back end of the garage through the door leading into the compound and let his fury spill. By the time he searched her room and his, the living room, dining room, kitchen, and found her nowhere in sight, his rage had spiked, making his blood boil. Tearing through the compound on a run, he finally spotted her inside the laundry room. Her back to him, bent over at the waist retrieving clothes from inside the washer. Just the sight of her rear in those tight jeans made him hard.
Seeing red, he fisted his palms until his knuckles cracked. Taking several steps quickly, a second before he reached her, he collided with a mass of muscle.
He sliced his gaze away from her and met Strike’s eyes, blocking him from getting to her. “What. The. Fuck. Brother.”
Face impassive, Strike took a deep breath. “Gotta calm down, Rip.”
Unbelievable. His brother sticking up for her, the woman who left him and took his kid? Why? Was she trying to land another brother? Had Strike fallen for her games? Emelia, the only woman he ever loved, with his brother?
His stomach turned. Clenching his jaw, he narrowed his eyes and shoved Strike off him. Strike stumbled back, almost bumping into Em, now facing them and watching, her body stiff, face pale and growing paler by the second.
“She’s off limits, brother. Fucked her for a long time means she’s off limits. Mother of my kid means she’s off limits. She’s mine.”
Strike’s face hardened. “Not interested, brother.”
Thank fuck. He’d have to kill him. No one would have her, especially one of his brothers. She didn’t want him. He’d never have her again, but he had Bree now. Em would never leave Bree, so Em would always be around, and he’d make sure no man ever had her.
“Then get the fuck out of my way.”
Strike took a step in his direction. “I will as soon as you calm down.”
Mimicking him, he took a step forward. “None of your business.”
“It is if you’re gonna hit her.”
Was Strike out of his fucking mind? He’d never hit a woman. Why his brother thought that he had no clue. Shit. He must look enraged, that’s the only reason his brother would step in, to prevent him from doing something he’d regret. Still, Strike knew him better than that. Didn’t he?
Through gritted teeth, he took a deep breath. “I’d never hit a woman.”
Strike held his glare for several moments before he walked away. Ripper met Emelia’s gaze. Just one look at her pale face and rigid posture and all that fury resurfaced.
The Emelia he’d known hadn’t been afraid of anything, not snakes, not guns, not club wars, nothing… And there she stood, trembling, pallid, and terrified. Knowing him, she had a right after all she’d done. But still, it didn’t sit well with him. The old Emelia didn’t cry, didn’t cower, didn’t scare. She wasn’t meek or soft spoken. She fought back and dirty. This Emelia was a fake, an amazing actress. Trying to save her ass, she put on an act. He had to give her credit. She was good at it.
Closing the distance between them with just one powerful step, he gripped her arm. “What. Did. You. Tell. Her?”
“I… W-what?” Her voice quivered.
“What did you tell her?”
Her brows furrowed. “Who?”
“Bree!”
She shook her head. “I didn’t—”
He leaned into her. “She told me you told her stories about me. Now, I wanna know what stories you told her.”
Her eyes widened. “I…I…”
“Fuckin’ tell me!”
“I told her about us, how we met. I told her how you used to take me on rides every Sunday. That we used to eat take-out Wednesday nights and hang out with the club on Fridays. I told her you took me to eat at a fancy steakhouse every anniversary…”
“What else?”
“Um…” She shook her head. “I-I…swear Bryce, I didn’t say anything bad about you… Why would I?”
Why? Because she fucking left him! Before he pointed this out, she spoke.
“If I had bad-mouthed you, why would she love you so much?”
Shit. She had a point there. He didn’t know much about kids, but it didn’t take a genius to see how much Bree loved him. He knew that the minute she ran up to him at that park, so excited to see a low-life like him. It wasn’t logical that Bree, even after such few days, would be so attached to him unless Emelia talked about him, told her stories. Obviously, she showed her pictures, too. Bree recognized him even though he now sported a permanent five o’clock shadow.
He dropped his head, stare shooting to the laundry basket just behind her. At the top of the pile, the black T-shirt he wore yesterday, the shirt he left lying on his bathroom floor. He’d jumped to conclusions, and she took the time to pick up after him and do his laundry. His gaze snapped up and landed on his hand, gripping her arm. He released her immediately and noticed the red marks he left.
He was a dick. He didn’t deserve happiness, didn’t deserve shit. Maybe it’s why she left with his kid without telling him. Chest clenching, guilt clogging his throat, he didn’t bother looking back at her. He couldn’t. He just walked away.