“So he’s it, huh?” Huntsman asked as we walked away from the pizza joint and back to the parking lot. The street was reasonably empty as it was getting close to that time where people with kids were home and heading to bed, and college students were back at their dorms or flats getting ready to go out.

I pulled my jacket in around me a little tighter as a cold breeze hit me. “Yeah. He’s it.” I couldn’t say it without a smile. “I’d ask for your approval, but I really don’t care if you do or not.”

He laughed, the deep sound kind of soft and gentle. Tonight felt different. Like the outer shell had finally broken, and there was this gentle giant inside. And now I knew the answer to that one question I’d always had in the back of my mind. Would I have been a daddy’s girl?

Since I’d seen his stern resolve crumble and had a peek inside the man that was buried inside, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind, that if I’d had Huntsman in my life since I was young, I would have been a daddy’s girl for sure.

I felt safe around him. Like no matter how long we’d known each other, he’d do whatever he needed to do in order to protect me.

I could imagine running to him when I skinned my knees. Or when the boy next door told me I couldn’t play with him because I was a girl. And I knew he would have pulled me close, told me not to worry, before going next door and scaring the fucking shit out of the little turd.

“I can respect a man who will stand with my gun against his forehead and call me a dumbass.”

I stopped walking, my mouth dropping open. “He didn’t.”

Huntsman turned and looked over his shoulder with a smirk. “Oh, he did. That kid, he really went into battle for you. Not for himself, and not so he could have you as his Old Lady. He wanted me to know what I was missing if I walked away. Let me know how far you’d come…”

I lowered my head and took another step forward, falling back into line with him. I knew what he meant. Ham had obviously alluded to the fact that I hadn’t exactly been miss popular. The more I grew as a person, the more I hated to think about how I’d let so many people walk right over me, and how little respect I had for myself.

“You know how I met Ham?”

He shook his head.

“My ex-boyfriend and his friends were playing an always fun game of ‘keep away with my backpack’ on the side of the road after school.” I screwed up my nose, thinking about Nick again made me want to punch something.

Huntsman’s mouth formed a straight flat line. “He stop them?”

I grinned at the memory. “No. My Uncle’s Old Lady, Hadley, pulled over. There had been some drama with the club, so Ham was following her on his bike. She told them if they didn’t give my backpack back, she’d put her foot up their asses and then call the boys from the club.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Old Lady material, right there.”

I nodded in agreement. “The few days after that happened, Ham followed my bus home and watched me walk two blocks from my bus stop to my front door. Then he’d leave. I started spending more time at the clubhouse. We never spoke, but we got to know each other through silence.” I sighed heavily. “Sounds weird, huh?”

“No, not at all.”

We rounded the corner into the parking lot. It was full when we walked in, but now two hours later, it was dark, getting cold, and there were only a few flickering lights illuminating Huntsman’s truck.

“I feel kind of bad for punching him now.”

My smile beamed from cheek to cheek, and I nudged Huntsman with my shoulder and shrugged. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. He deserves it sometimes.”

“Aw… isn’t this sweet,” a chilling voice called over the darkness.

Huntsman instantly grabbed my hand and pulled my body quickly toward his truck.

“Oh, no, not tonight, old friend.”

Before we could reach the vehicle, four men wearing dark clothing and carrying heavy weapons stepped out from behind it and rounded to the front. Black jeans, black T-shirts, black beanies over their heads and dark narrowed eyes. They perfectly blended into the night, the couple of stray overhead lights doing nothing but cast more shadows for them to hide inside.

Huntsman grabbed me, pulling me closer to his body.

My heart began to race, thumping so loudly I could hear it in my ears. The adrenaline injection made my body shake as I grabbed hold of Huntsman’s club cut, gripping the leather so tightly in my hands it hurt my fingertips.

“So this is the infamous daughter I’ve heard rumors about.” A dark figure stepped out from behind the truck, a business suit on, his dark hair slicked back and violence sparkling in his eyes. “Go figure. She happens to be the same girl who was inside my nightclub and had two of my men killed last weekend.”

“You’re a long way from home, Isiah,” Huntsman responded, directing me behind him. His eyes moved between each of the men in the parking lot as if gauging his next move.

I searched the area, trying to find anything or anyone who might help us get out of this shit, but the parking lot was out the back of a building on the main street. There was no one around. No one that would dare get involved in this kind of shit at least.

Isiah?

This was the same guy Romeo was talking about. He owned the nightclub that Dakota and I had been in when Skins and Levi had to rescue us. The same guy who apparently took women and then conveniently made them go missing. The same guy whose men killed a member of my family.

“Isn’t she stunning,” Isiah continued, coming closer. Each of his men moving forward with him. “But, of course, she would be. She has her mother’s features.”

His words were like a punch in the stomach. I was confused, a little shocked, and scared.

How did he know my mother?

I looked up at Huntsman who had completely changed from the man I was just speaking to. The man who was laughing, joking, and sharing stories about his life—the open book was firmly shut tight, locked up, welded shut.

“What do you want?” Huntsman asked, his hand tightening on the back of my shirt.

“What do you think I want?” Isiah threw back, followed by a sinister laugh.

His men moved around us, each scuff of their feet on the asphalt seemed so damn loud in the night air.

“I want to take away the things you care about… like you did to me. I figure your new daughter’s a good place to start.”

“No,” I screamed as one man rushed toward me while another two focused in on Huntsman. One held a set of heavy chains wrapped around his hand and hanging to the ground, the other a pair of knuckle dusters decorated his fingers and glistened in the streetlight like a diamond ring.

Hands grabbed my body, pulling me away.

I held Huntsman as tightly as I could, but it was quickly torn away. He turned to grab for me, but the thick chain came down hard on his arm.

“No. Stop! Please stop,” I screamed as Huntsman cursed in pain and pulled back, just as the man with knuckle dusters swung, smacking him in the jaw.

I fought against the arms that were wrapped around me, digging my fingernails into their skin until they released me. I didn’t waste that brief second when I was free, spinning on the asshole who was still tending to his wounds and driving my foot up into his balls.

He dropped the thick piece of pipe, sending it clattering to the ground. “You little fucking bitch!” he hissed, curling in on himself and falling to his knees.

I dove for the pipe, stumbling, but managing to stay on my feet.

The sound of metal hitting flesh filled my ears. The pain filled groans I knew were coming from Huntsman. I looked up to find him fighting to stay on his feet and fighting off his attackers, blood dripping down his face.

Isiah stood just a few feet away, delight in his eyes and grinning from ear to ear.

I didn’t waste a moment, running at the battle and pulling the pipe back as I focused in on my target.

They were hurting him.

I wouldn’t let them hurt him.

Adrenaline and rage burned hot inside me like a fire.

This man, he was trying to hurt my family. He’d already hurt Dakota and stolen a part of her. I couldn’t let it continue.

I swung, connecting with the ribs of mister knuckle dusters, the impact sending vibrations up through the pipe and my arms. He roared in pain, and I pulled back, ready to swing again only to have someone grab the pipe from behind me and yank it from my hands.

“I don’t think so, little girl,” Isiah’s voice taunted in amusement.

Arms folded around my body again, and I kicked my legs, struggling against the hold, throwing my head back and hoping to hit someone’s face.

“Control the little bitch, will you?” Isiah roared, obviously not impressed he wasn’t in total control of the situation. “Do I have to do everything my fucking self?”

That was when I felt the cold metal against my temple, and my entire body froze.

Isiah grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked it back. I whimpered in pain. The arms released me, and he forced me to my knees, the rough texture of the asphalt poking through my jeans, stabbing at my skin. Turns burned at my eyes, caused by both pain and anguish as I looked over to see them do the same thing to Huntsman, but he was looking much worse for the wear.

Actually, that was an understatement.

I felt like my heart was being wrenched from my chest, looking at this man who I saw as so strong, who appeared as an unbreakable mountain—but was broken. At least that’s what you would think until you saw his eyes.

He was bloody, it stained his hair, it dripped down his face, and his body was slumping with the amount of damage that had been done—but his eyes, they were still full of vengeance and hell. And if Isiah was stupid enough to let him walk away from this, he was a dead man.

The bastard yanked on my hair, forcing my neck into an awkward position that exposed my neck.

“A daughter, huh, Huntsman,” Isiah announced loudly, looking down at me and studying my face. He crouched down, so his face was right next to mine, his cologne burning the inside of my nose. “Before I knew she was yours, I already had my eye on her you know. She’s pretty, beautiful even.”

He lifted his free hand and trailed his finger down the side of my face, licking his lips and looking at me like I was his dinner. His finger then moved down my jaw and neck until it reached my chest. That was when I’d had enough, and even with the awkward position, I pushed out my elbow and swung it upward, connecting with the underside of his jaw.

Isiah’s grip lessened, and I fell to the ground while he flew to his feet, holding his face. His eyes flashed down to me, and I knew the pain was about to come as he closed his fist and took a step forward.

A deep roar startled the both of us, and suddenly, the men who were holding Huntsman were practically thrown through the air, both of them skidding across the ground while Huntsman rose to his feet like a phoenix from the ashes.

Tears dripped down my cheeks as I scrambled to find my feet while Isiah and Huntsman stood just a few feet from each other, staring the other down.

“I did the math…” Isiah noted as his men found their feet again.

“She’s nothing to you,” Huntsman argued. “Your feud is with me, not her.”

Feud?

Isiah’s laughter boomed in the silent night air.

I was missing something, but I was still sitting on the ground, very aware of the fact that there were more men moving in from the shadows of the buildings around us.

“She’s a product of your deception,” Isiah continued, the laughter quickly cutting short. “She’s a product of your betrayal, for which you must be punished. And you know how much I love the chance to bring a man so proud, who thinks he cannot be broken, right down to his knees.”

The guy with the chains moved in behind Huntsman and swung the thick chain, the force connecting with the back of Huntsman’s knees. They collapsed from underneath him, and he went down.

“No,” I cried out, throwing my body forward, crawling along the ground, my hands being ripped and torn as I fought to get to him. I was willing to do whatever I needed to do to protect this man, including throwing myself over his body. Only I was dragged backward. Hands took hold of my arms, lifting me, pulling me away, digging into my skin and flesh, no matter how hard I tried to dig my toes in, my shoes couldn’t find the ground, and I was pulled further and further away. “Please, stop!”

Tears streamed down my face as I watched more men come forward, their heavy boots beginning to fly, connecting with his body, making the most god-awful sounds as they pummeled him and rained down hell on his body.

My screams may have well been silent because no one even paid me a second of attention.

“Prick her,” Isiah called loudly, slowly turning his attention to me as his men stepped back from Huntsman’s body—his lifeless body.

He may not have raised me, he may not have been around when I needed him, but I’d finally made a breakthrough, seen a side I knew he didn’t show too many. I was starting to feel like the hole in my chest was being sewed shut, one stitch after another and now Isiah was ripping them out, trying to steal from me the one thing that I’d dreamed of since I was young.

Fear had filled me. Fear for how they would hurt this man who I’d come to care about. Fear for what they would do to me. But it soon morphed into something more. Seeing him bleeding and broken, knowing that Isiah possibly stole my opportunity to feel like I was whole—it all turned to rage.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” I yelled, once again finding the fight within my bones, knowing that if I had lost this man tonight, that I was going to make sure Isiah paid for it.

Isiah started walking toward me, clearly amused by what seemed like a threat from a teenage girl. But I knew more than he thought I did, and I had an ace up my sleeve.

The click of handcuffs encompassing my wrists joined his soft chuckle as Huntsman’s body was forgotten, and Isiah’s men moved back into the shadows. I tried not to look at the awkward position he lay in on the ground, decided not to focus on whether there was any sign of breathing.

Instead, I focused my anger and the taste of revenge on the end of my tongue, so I focused my gaze in on Isiah, eager to revel in the reaction he would have to what I had to say. “You’re gonna die.”

Isiah chuckled in amusement as he slipped his gun back inside his suit jacket. “Very pretty. Not very smart.”

“They’ll destroy you.”

The amusement was soon gone. I could see his thought process, wondering if I was crazy, wondering whether he would look like an idiot if he answered me. It took a few moments, but he tilted his head curiously. “And who might that be, princess.”

I smirked, thinking about all the ways Uncle Leo and the club were going to fight to get me back. Imagining the ways Ripley and the Exiles would cause Isiah pain for what he’d done.

That was what I focused on. That was what was going to keep me alive until they came.

“Huntsman is my father, but I have family somewhere else.”

His body froze, his eyes narrowing on me. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

My smirk grew into a full-blown smile. “The Brothers by Blood MC.”

He recognized the name, I saw it in the way his lips pinched together.

There was a sharp sting in my neck, and I screamed, fighting the way the liquid attacked my body like acid moving through my veins.

I felt weak, and I couldn’t breathe properly, but I managed to keep my eyes open for a few extra seconds. Just long enough to see that shock and surprise on his face, and what could have been fear sparkle momentarily in his eyes.

I never thought I could feel happiness at the thought of a person’s death.

But as it turns out, some people were stupid enough to screw with my family.

And for those people... I prayed it hurt.