Thirteen

LARRY DWAYNE DANIELS

Three days later . . .

 

BO STROLLED INTO JACOBS’ LADDER and looked up. The Wallflowers were sitting at what they’d deemed ‘their table,’ toasting each other with shots. The green liquid glistened in the light above them. It looked like cough syrup to Bo, but his woman’s eyes always glazed over when she drank it, her mouth pulling into a sexy grin, and the effects of the liquor on her mood were spectacular. One shot, and they were on their backs within five minutes.

Sienna looked down at him, and she stuck out her tongue.

Bo raised a brow.

She raised one back, and he saw the challenge in her eyes. He looked back at Jacobs’ office and considered taking her up on it, but it would have to wait; he had a man to interview. Larry Dwayne Daniels had woken up the night before, and he wanted a word with the man.

Bo mouthed, “Later,” to Sienna, and her eyes hooded with anticipation.

Fucking spectacular.

Turning to the bar, Bo took a seat on a stool next to Devin. “Daniels is finally awake,” Bo said.

The beer Devin had lifted to his lips paused. “You headed there now?”

Bo nodded. “I came by to see if you wanted to join me.”

Devin put his tongue to his teeth and whistled. Nate looked up from across the restaurant and jerked his head, raised a finger to stop a tirade his aunt was having, and headed in their direction.

Bo watched Nate as he approached, grinning when he caught the big man’s eyes darting to the Wallflowers.

“What’s holdin’ him back from Poppy?” Bo mumbled to Devin.

Devin looked over his shoulder at the Wallflowers. “Abusive father. He used to beat him and his mother. He’s got it in his head he’s predisposed to follow in his old man’s footsteps due to his genetic lottery. He keeps a tight rein on his temper because of it.”

“So he doesn’t date?”

“Not more than a couple of weeks, and that’s not often. He’s married to his bar rather than a woman.”

“He ever lose control?” Bo asked as Nate walked across the restaurant toward them.

“Only once since I’ve known him,” Devin smiled.

Bo’s forehead creased. “What’s so funny?”

“What’s funny is, the only time I’ve seen him lose his cool was at Craig’s place.”

Bo lifted a brow.

Devin looked over his shoulder, then back. “After you called, tellin’ us to meet you back at the house, I found Nate checkin’ an old rickety outbuildin’. When he saw me ride up, he asked if they’d been found. When I said no, he put a fist through one of the walls, then proceeded to dismantle the entire buildin’.”

Bo whistled low. “He’s in deep.”

“He’s in deep,” Devin agreed.

They both turned to watch Nate walk up.

“What’s up?” Nate asked, stopping in front of both men from behind the bar.

“Daniels woke up,” Bo stated, trying to hide a smile. “I’m headin’ there now to interview him.”

“Good,” Nate ground out, “it’s about time we knew what’s goin’ on.”

“Can you keep an eye on the girls while we’re gone? We don’t want them out of our sight until we know what we’re up against,” Devin said.

Nate looked up at the girls and nodded. “None of them will get past me this time.”

“Easiest way to keep an eye on them is to introduce them to Gertrude. The way they sing, they’ll love her,” Devin chuckled.

Nate grinned. “They might actually get Gert to shut up with their caterwaulin’.”

Devin cringed. “Never heard women that bad at singin’.”

The girls burst out laughing, and all three men turned to look at them.

“Did you hear that Poppy tried to sacrifice herself so Calla and Sienna could get away?” Bo mumbled, keeping his eyes on Sienna.

There was silence for a moment, then Nate growled, “You wanna repeat that?”

Bo turned and leaned on the bar. He held Nate’s eyes for a moment. They were glittering with anger. “Craig’s granddaughter was gonna shoot all three of them, so Poppy decided she would sacrifice herself. She lunged for the gun and told Calla and Sienna to run.”

Nate’s eyes shot to Poppy, and his nostrils flared. “She’s got no sense.”

“No. She’s got no man to fight for her,” Devin said, tapping the bar twice with his knuckles before stepping away and heading for the door.

Bo followed, looking up at Sienna. When he caught her eyes, he held up his phone. She nodded and dug her phone out of her purse. Bo answered on the first ring. “We’re headed to the hospital to interview Daniels. We don’t want you ladies leavin’ until we know what’s goin’ on. Nate’s got your back.”

“Roger that. We’ll stay here and wait for your return,” she answered, saluting him as he opened the door to exit.

Bo’s lip twitched. They were taking the whole ‘we’ll listen to you from now on’ to heart.

“Sienna?”

“Yeah?”

“Dinner at your place tonight. I’ll teach you how to cook pasta, then I’ll worship you while you practice.”

She gasped, then, and in a breathy voice said, “Lookin’ forward to it.”

Beautiful. Fucking spectacular. “Later, baby . . . Love you.”

Her eyes warmed as she looked back at him. “Later, Bo. I love you, too.”

Devin grinned at him. “She can’t cook worth a shit, either?”

“As bad as her singin’.”

“Good thing they’re worth lyin’, stealin’, or killin’ for,” Devin laughed.

“Amen.”

Twenty minutes later, they walked into Daniels’ hospital room. He looked like he’d been pounded with a sledgehammer. Both eyes were swollen, and his nose had been broken. Bo figured he’d eat through a straw for a few weeks, and he didn’t give a shit. Daniels had gone after his woman with a gun; he’d shake the hand of the man who nearly beat him to death.

“Wake up,” Bo barked.

Daniels jerked, swallowing. He opened his eyes to slits and scanned the room.

“Who are you?” he rasped out, his voice dry.

“I’m Detective Bo Strawn, and this is Devin Hawthorne. We need to ask you a few questions about the truck you crashed last Saturday.”

Daniels expression turned cautious. “What truck?”

“The truck,” Devin hissed, leaning down so the man could see him better, “you used to chase three women through the streets of Savannah.”

Daniels color turned ashen, and he swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yeah, you do. You pulled a gun on them as they left the Tap Room, thinkin’ you’d score easy money,” Bo taunted. “What I really want to know is why you chased them.”

Daniels raised a shaking hand to a cup resting on his bedside table and brought it to his mouth. He struggled with the straw, then winced as he swallowed.

“You gonna answer the man?” Devin bit out.

“I want a lawyer,” was his response.

“You’ll get a lawyer once you’re discharged. And a comfortable bed in county lockup. What I need to know is why. Are these women still in danger?”

Daniels looked between Bo and Devin, weighing his options, then shook his head slowly.

“So no one else is lookin’ for them?” Devin growled.

Daniels closed his eyes and shook his head again. “I’d been drinkin’ and heard one say she was Calla Armstrong. I figured I’d make a quick buck seein’ as she’s loaded. I hadn’t been tweaked in days, and I was desperate.”

Bo looked at Devin to gauge his reaction. His hands were balled into tight fists, the knuckles white. “If you weren’t already broken, I would beat you myself,” Devin rumbled low. “That’s my woman you went after.”

Daniels moved further up the bed, looking at Bo for help. “I’m done,” he whispered. “Her father already put me in the hospital. I’m not goin’ anywhere near her.”

Bo’s eyes shot to Devin. “Isn’t her father dead?”

Devin nodded slowly. “Describe this man.”

Daniels looked at Bo. “He’ll kill me.”

“Hawthorne’s not gonna kill you,” Bo sighed.

“Not him.” Daniels jerked his head at Devin. “Her father.”

“Her father is dead,” Devin growled, “so start talkin’.”

“I’m tellin’ you I can’t,” Daniels shot back. “He’s associated with the Serpents. A nomad with no club affiliation.”

Bo narrowed his eyes. “And he told you he was Calla’s father?”

Daniels nodded.

“He said her name?” Bo ground out.

Daniels shook his head. “He said, ‘Nobody fucks with my kids.’ I assumed he meant Armstrong, since I was goin’ after her.”

Jesus, this guy is an idiot.

Bo pulled out his phone and flipped through the pictures Sienna had taken during their stay at the ranch. He found one of the three Wallflowers together and held up his phone. “Which one?”

Daniels squinted at the photo, then raised his hand and pointed to Sienna.

Bo gritted his teeth. If this man beat a punk half to death over his kid, and Daniels was goin’ after Sienna . . . Christ.

“You’re an idiot,” Devin growled. “You went after the wrong woman.”

Daniels narrowed his eyes at Devin. “Fuck you, man.”

Devin shook his head. “Tweaker with no brains who goes after the wrong woman and gets manhandled by a middle-aged man isn’t exactly Einstein.”

“I need a name,” Bo bit out.

“I’m not givin’ it to you, man.”

“You’re givin’ it to me,” Bo growled.

“He’ll kill me,” Daniels bit back.

Bo’s smile turned sinister. “I’ll kill you if you don’t.”

Ten minutes later, they exited Daniels’ room with a name. Knox. One name. No last name, just Knox.

“You’re gettin’ good at lyin’,” Devin chuckled.

“Bite me,” Bo said. “What are the chances this Knox is Sienna’s biological father?”

“I’d say slim, but it makes you wonder why the hell he went after Daniels. Mistaken identity?”

“A nomad biker? They survive by knowin’ everyone and everything.”

Devin rubbed a hand across his face. He had no answers.

“How the fuck do I tell Sienna her father may be a biker? And how the hell do I find a biker with one name?”

“You could lie. Say you can’t find him.”

Bo shook his head. “If he’s who he says he is, this guy knows Sienna’s his daughter. It’s only a matter of time before he comes sniffin’. She needs to be prepared.”

“You wanna head to the Tap Room and knock some heads?” Devin asked.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Bo grinned.

 

 

“I don’t think we sounded that bad,” Poppy grumbled low in my ear as Nate led us away from his apartment. We’d been playing with his adorable bulldog Gertrude, singing along with her to an Italian opera.

He turned at her whispered complaint, rose both brows, and shook his head. “Never heard three more tone-deaf Georgia peaches in my life.”

“Four,” I chuckled. “Gertrude is one of us now.”

“Oh, wouldn’t she look darlin’ in a studded UG shirt,” Cali said. “There are a few at Frock You I could cut down to size and take a Bedazzler to.”

Poppy and I nodded, smiling wide at how cute Gertrude would be in a custom shirt. Nate stopped in his tracks, turned, and pointed right in Cali’s face. “No fuckin’ bedazzlin’.”

“But—”

He glared her into silence.

She looked and me and bit her lips to keep from smiling.

I grabbed her hand so the big man didn’t explode and pulled her around Nate, heading for our table.

“He’s testy,” Poppy muttered as we climbed the steps. “He’s been on edge all afternoon.”

“That’s true,” I answered. “He’s been glarin’ most of the day.”

“Devin gets grumpy when we haven’t . . . you know what.”

“Cali, you’ve been together a little over a week. You’re still in the honeymoon period. You haven’t had time not to have time for you know what.”

Now she had me saying ‘you know what.’ Pretty soon, I wouldn’t be able to say ‘ass,’ without slapping my hand over my mouth.

She settled in her seat before answering. “We went twenty-four hours once. He was a bear by the time he got home. When I asked him why, he said it’s because he needed to work off his frustration.”

“How is that the same?” I questioned.

“He was frustrated at me.”

“What had you done?”

“Pulled an all-nighter at the office when we got back from the ranch.”

Poppy and I snorted.

“Do you think when men find someone they want, their bodies need you know what all the time?” Poppy asked.

I looked at Cali and smiled. “Yeah. Most definitely.”

She bit her lip. “Do you, um, think it’s the same for women?”

Cali and I both nodded . . . rapidly.

Poppy chuckled. “You both look like bobbleheads.”

A loud, husky female voice rang out from below, and we looked over the railing into the restaurant. Nate’s aunt Martine was leaning on a table with a bunch of college boys, smiling seductively.

Nate’s aunt was a sassy redhead who was born and raised in Glasgow, Scotland. She had a quick wit and a smile that turned heads, and a body that stopped traffic. She was in her mid-forties, unmarried, and flirted with every man between eighteen and seventy. I’d watched her interact with men most of the afternoon and decided she liked flirting with the college crowd best because she could rattle them easily.

“Did you hear Nate say she’s puttin’ down roots in Savannah and will be managin’ the bar for him?”

“Yeah. I wonder where she’s stayin’?”

“With his mother, Devin said.”

Poppy’s phone began to ring, so she pulled it from her purse. I started to ask Cali if she was hungry, but my attention snapped to Poppy. She’d gasped at whatever she heard on the phone.

“I’ll be right home, Momma,” she rushed out and stood, swiping her phone off.

“What’s wrong?” Cali asked.

“Nothin’. I need to go.”

I looked at Cali. “We promised Bo we’d listen from now on. You can’t leave until he calls.”

Poppy grabbed her purse from the chair, mumbling, “You promised. It has nothin’ to do with me. I need to go,” then fled the table.

“Poppy!” I called out, but she ignored me and hit the stairs two at a time.

I searched the restaurant for Nate. He was behind the bar, and his focus was on Poppy as she rushed through the crowd. Before I could call out to him, he threw a bar towel down, muttered something to a waitress, and then headed swiftly toward the door Poppy had just exited.

I fumbled for my phone and started to dial Bo’s number, but it rang in my hand.

“Bo?” I rushed out.

“You’re in the clear, baby. Daniels won’t be comin’ after you. Tell the girls.”

I looked at the door Poppy had fled through, and relaxed. Whatever her problem was, we’d find out soon enough. At least she was safe.

“You there?” Bo asked.

“Yeah,” I answered. “So, we’re safe?”

“Yeah, you’re safe, baby. I’ll meet you at your place in a few hours. There’s somethin’ I need to look into first, then we’ll talk.”

“Talk?” I questioned.

“About your biological father.”

I blinked. Bo said he would look for him, but it didn’t occur to me he’d do it so quickly.

“Are you sayin’ you found him?” My heart pounded in my chest.

“We’ll talk when I get to your place.”

“Bo—”

“When I get there, baby.”

“Please,” I whispered into the phone, my tone begging.

There was a pregnant pause, then Bo whispered, “Fuck.”

“Please tell me what you know.”

“He goes by the name Knox, but his given name is David. David Tyler. I just got the confirmation, but that’s all I’ve got.”

“How did you find him?”

“I’ll tell you when I get to your place.”

“Bo, please.”

“I’ve told you all I’m gonna tell you without bein’ there.”

“Is it bad?” I asked, my stomach dropping like a lead ball. What if he’s a serial killer?

“I don’t know yet. I gotta go to the station and run his info.”

“Okay,” I answered breathlessly. I’d just have to be patient. “I’ll tell Nate when he gets back that we’re in the clear.”

“He left you alone?”

“Poppy got a call that upset her, and she ran out. Nate took off after her.”

Bo sighed. “That lasted all of three days.”

“What did?”

“You promisin’ to listen.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Uh, we did listen. Poppy is the one who ran out.”

“Right. So, she’s the weak link now.”

“Weak link?”

“Yeah, weak link. She doesn’t have a man who’ll lose his shit if somethin’ happens to her, so she does what she wants. The weak link in your Wallflower chain. It’s only as strong as its weakest member. Meanin’ she’ll break, and you’ll follow suit.”

“You’re an ass,” I snapped. “What does havin’ a man got to do with anything? I promised to listen ‘cause you’re a lawman, and you have more experience with bad guys than me, not because you’d lose your shit if I disobeyed. You’re not my father.”

Bo grew quiet. I could hear him breathing on the other end, so I waited.

“Point made,” he growled. “But I’ll point out that listenin’ to me has nothin’ to do with bein’ disobedient and everything to do with lovin’ someone enough not to worry them.”

My heart fluttered. He loved me. “You’re right,” I breathed out. “And I love you, too.”

“Christ, you drive me nuts.”

“Ditto,” I smiled. “So, do you want me to call Nate?”

“No, I’ll call him and bring him up to date.”

“Okay, then,” I said.

“Sienna?”

“What?”

“You’re worth the heartburn.”

I smiled. He was referring to his comment when he’d rescued me from the tree.

“You, too,” I whispered.

“See you in a few hours,” Bo said, then hung up.

“I take it we’re in the clear and can roam the streets of Savannah without a bodyguard?”

I nodded. “Bo may have a lead on my father,” I said excitedly.

Cali blinked. “How? Who? Where?”

I chuckled. “All I know is his name may be David Tyler. But he called him Knox for some reason.”

“Like a nickname?”

I shrugged. “Cali, do you think he’ll like me?”

The thought he might not accept me started rolling around my head like a gerbil in a wheel.

Her smile softened, and she grabbed my hand. “He’ll love you. Just like I did the moment I met you. Just like Bo does. You’re impossible to hate.”

My bottom lip trembled. “Sorry, residual angst from my family. I’ll worry about it when it happens. Right now, I’m worried about Poppy. What do you think is goin’ on with her mother?”

“No clue,” Cali answered. “Since we’re free to go, do you wanna follow her and find out?”

I stood instantly. “I’ve been to her mother’s house a few times. We can check there first.”

We both grabbed our purses and headed downstairs, waving at Nate’s aunt as we left.

“Did you notice how Nate chased after her?” Cali said as we hurried through the crowded sidewalk. “I wonder if he’s feelin’ the same thing, too?”

“We can only hope,” I sighed. “Watchin’ her is frustratin’.”

We made the long walk to Cali’s building and climbed into my beat-up car. As much as I hated to part with my silver Honda, it was time. New life. New man. New wheels for the new Sienna.

Poppy’s mother lived on the outskirts of the city, in a less than desirable neighborhood. I’d met her several times in the past two years. She’d been stunning once, but life had beaten her down. Yet, every once in a while, I saw a spark in her eyes, and I knew she’d been a spitfire in her youth. A trait her daughter had inherited. Poppy looked just like her, too. No one would doubt that she was her mother’s daughter.

As we rounded the corner to her mother’s house, I caught sight of Nate sitting on his motorcycle. He was parked two doors down, like a sentry guarding a castle. He turned his head as we approached and climbed off his bike.

I came to a stop next to him and rolled down the window. “I take it since you’re here, Bo didn’t call you.”

Nate shook his head. “Just got off the phone with him. Poppy ran inside as I pulled up. What’s goin’ on with her? She looked like she saw a ghost.”

“No idea. We’re gonna find out, though. You wanna come inside with us?” I asked.

Nate looked at the house, then back at us. “Yeah.”

I smiled. He definitely looked like a man on the hunt. “I’ll just pull over,” I said, then rolled up the window and gave Cali big eyes.

“This should be interestin’,” she mumbled.

Shirley Gentry’s home was neutral. Mushroom-colored siding wrapped around the house, a throwback from the early nineties when vinyl siding was king, with gray planters on either side of the black door housing dying flowers. There was no color to distinguish it from the other lifeless houses on the street. In fact, the neighborhood as a whole gave off the air of having given up.

As we approached the door, I could hear voices inside. Poppy seemed to be yelling at someone. Nate heard it, too, and moved in front of us. He didn’t bother knocking; he just grabbed hold of the worn-out screen door, ripped it open, and pushed through the front door like he owned the house.

We all came to a screeching halt inside a tiny living room, made smaller by the three people presently filling the space to capacity.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Nate growled.

Poppy turned at his question and blinked. “What are you doin’ here?” she gasped, her face ashen.

“Better question is, who the fuck is he?”

Cali and I looked at the middle-aged man. His face was hard, scary even, and he was dressed like a biker. There was something familiar about the man. He was big and broad, had hair the color of wheat, but it was streaked with gray announcing his age. His eyes were dark brown, hiding intelligence. And even though he was in his mid-fifties, he was a good-looking man.

He stared back at us, his eyes wandering from Poppy to me, and he smiled. Wow. His smile was like looking into the face of the sun. It warmed his features, softening the rough edges.

Poppy turned and looked at the man, then, in a voice filled with ice, bit out, “This is my father. Wallflowers, meet David Tyler, the bastard who knocked up my mother and then disappeared from my life.”

Cali gasped beside me, and I froze in place. A loud roaring in my ears began to drown out the noise around me, and the room tilted slightly before righting itself. I heard Nate growl, “Fuck me,” as he whipped out his phone. And I just concentrated on breathing.

The room spun as I looked at the man. Recognition slowly crept in, but when it did, it hit me like a freight train. I looked just like him. Same hair, same eyes, same smile. And he was watching me with a smile on his face, as if he was proud of what he was seeing.

How can this be?

Cali grabbed my hand and held on tight. I squeezed it back to ground myself to reality. “It has to be him,” she whispered. “You look just like him.”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It felt like I was on an episode of Punk’d. “Knox?” I questioned. “Is…is that your name?” I continued on a shuddering breath.

The man with golden hair the color of mine nodded his head, mumbling, “Yeah, baby girl.”

Nate grabbed Poppy’s hand and pulled her behind his back, then bit out in a strained voice, “Strawn, you need to get your ass over to Ms. Gentry’s house. STAT. Knox is here, and we’ve got a clusterfuck on our hands.”

Poppy stared at Nate, confused. Her brow pulled into a sharp line, and she looked at me. “What’s goin’ on?”

I looked at her, really looked at her for some sort of similarities. There were none. She was the spitting image of her mother. I looked back at Knox. Same hair. Same stubborn jaw. There was no way this could be true. “Are you Poppy’s father?” I asked anxiously.

He nodded slowly.

Poppy looked at me, her brows pulling into a line of confusion. “Why are you askin’ if he’s my father? Did you drink too much green magic at lunch?”

I swallowed hard. Now, for the moment of truth. “Are you…are you my father?”

Poppy gasped, “What?” looking for all the world like she thought I was nuts.

He looked at Poppy, back at me, then smiled with eyes I looked back at daily in the mirror. “Yeah, baby girl.”

Oh. My. God.

I blinked. Ms. Gentry shouted, “You bastard!” and my eyes shot to Poppy. She’d turned white as a ghost as she stared at her father. Our father.

Reaching out my hand, I whispered, “Poppy.”

She whipped around and looked at me as if she’d never seen me before, and stepped back out of my reach, shaking her head rapidly in denial. I watched her with trepidation as the truth sank in. She seemed off balance, her eyes wide as if in shock, her face pale with bitterness and rejection as she panted. Nate had been watching her closely, so when she didn’t rail against her father for yet another deceit, he stepped up next to her and whispered something into her ear. She shook her head, her breath coming in great gasping gulps, then she tittered on her feet and reached out for Nate’s arm before her eyes rolled back in her head.

 

To be continued . . .

 

Stay tuned for Wallflowers: One Heart Remains

Coming Soon!