Two weeks.
Two fucking weeks Evie had been living in the farmhouse, which should have been like a dream made real.
Instead, it was a goddamn nightmare.
Since that night I’d laid it out for her, I hadn’t been back.
I hadn’t seen her even once since I left her standing on the porch.
And I was fucking miserable.
Every night since that first, I’d been staying in my room at the clubhouse. There was one big, glaring issue with that I hadn’t thought of: every fucking person knew. It wasn’t uncommon for me to be around the clubhouse more often than not, but crashing there that many nights drew attention.
It didn’t fucking help that Evie being around wasn’t a secret. By the time we’d had our confrontation on the back porch that night, the whole club probably knew about her, and they were making their assumptions.
The fucked part of that was, their assumptions probably weren’t wrong.
All this meant I was trying to avoid everyone, even while I spent all my time at the clubhouse where it was impossible to be alone.
Like I said, fucking miserable.
The knock on my office door didn’t help improve my sunny disposition any.
“Yeah,” I called.
Roadrunner sauntered in and took a seat. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t ask for permission. It wasn’t often any of the brothers would. Formalities and shit like that only pissed me off.
When he didn’t launch right in, I went ahead. “You know, you’ve earned some time off the clock. Go hang out with your girl and your granddaughter.”
“Love that little one to pieces. She’s got every part of my heart that doesn’t belong to her mother, and she will until they put me in the ground. But, shit, my baby having a baby makes me feel old as fuck. I spend too much time there, I think they’ll age me to the point I can’t get my ass on a bike anymore.”
Bullshit.
“Ember kicked your ass out,” I guessed.
“No. Jager did. The motherfucker said I was hogging Jamie,” he grumbled.
I laughed just picturing the two of them squaring off over the baby. They’d gone toe-to-toe a time or two over Ember, but I figured this was going to be even worse. Jager had always been a surly asshole, and we’d all been shocked when he fell hard and fierce for Ember. Now, none of us were surprised he took protective to a new level with his daughter.
“Anyway, I sat through an interesting conversation while I was over there. Thought I’d come give you the lowdown,” he informed me.
Where he was going with this, I couldn’t begin to guess.
“I don’t even want to think of what means she used to do it,” Roadrunner went on, face set in a sneer at the thought. “But Ember talked him into getting on his computer and find out when Evie finishes her exams since she’s being cagey and the girls weren’t liking that.”
None of that was a surprise. Not Jager hacking into something because Ember wanted him to, not the girls going to whatever lengths to bring Evie into the fold.
“And?” I didn’t bother trying to act aloof. I’d known Roadrunner for two decades. He’d see through that shit either way.
“They decided she needs to go out and celebrate.”
Shit.
“Do I want to know what the fuck that’s gonna entail? Or should I just call Andrews now?” Andrews was our in at the Hoffman PD. He took care of us the best he could. If the women were talking about going out as a group—especially if Ham’s old lady, Max, was involved—he might be needed.
“They want to take her out to get drunk. Since none of their men are feeling great about that happening somewhere they can’t control, Avery offered up Candy Shop as a spot.”
God fucking help me.
“They want to take her to a fucking strip club?”
“Tomorrow’s dick day,” he reminded me.
Candy Shop had been around Hoffman for a while, but it only belonged to the club the last couple years. That investment was Daz’s brainchild and his responsibility. From the last reports Roadrunner gave me, the place was making crazy turnover, so he was right to pull for it. What none of us expected when he suggested it was that a big part of that success would be the money they made on the third Thursday of every month when the whole night was dudes up on the stages.
“Christ.”
“Could be worse. Ember mentioned Avery was all about taking her out somewhere she could meet a man at first.”
“And I thought she liked me,” I muttered despite myself.
Roadrunner’s brows shot up at my poorly veiled admission in that.
“There’s an easy way to put a stop to that,” he pointed out, fishing.
“Not happening,” I pronounced.
He didn’t push, but leaned back in his chair, settling in and making a statement all the same.
“That age gap? It’s about the same as you and Ember. Tell me, if Jager wasn’t in the picture, would you want some asshole your age going after your daughter?”
His lips pursed. “Catch your point. But it ain’t easy for me to picture any man with her, and that includes Jager even two years later. Is that what you’re worried about? Her family?”
Leaning an elbow on the desk, I dropped my head into my hand. Going around and around this was giving me a constant migraine.
“No. Not specifically. I knew her for months before I went inside, and she never mentioned them. The girl was working in a rundown diner for years while she put herself through school, and not direct out of high school, either. If there’s any family there, I’m not thinking they’d be a high priority to impress.
“But it’s still that shit. It’s the fact that every time I went out anywhere with her, people would be looking at us and wondering what the fuck is wrong with her that she’s with a man old enough to be her father. It’s the fact that she’s still young and should be experiencing that with someone her age.”
“Well, shit. I didn’t realize you were some stuffy civilian who gave a shit what people thought and stayed cooped up inside not living your life,” he shot back.
“It’s not about me. It’s about her. She’s a sweet girl, too fucking sweet to put up with that shit just because she tied herself to a man like me.”
Roadrunner sat forward, one hand braced on the arm of his chair, ready to stand. The other came up to tap twice on the desk between us as he said, “Didn’t realize our president thought so little of this life.”
“You know I fucking don’t.” I lived for this goddamn club. How the fuck he could accuse otherwise after all I’d given…
“You think she had cause to be ashamed to be at your side says differently.”
With that parting line that hit right on target, he got up and walked out. Meanwhile, I was left wondering if I was making a huge fucking mistake.