Chapter 2

Mr. Gifford avoided the main entry and opened a door halfway down the building. I got a glimpse of a rumpled bed, a few dressers, and the glowing screen of a television on the far side of the room before his large frame blocked the doorway and my view.

“Tuck, take a load off. Hang out with Zag and watch some TV. I need to have a second with…what was your name again, sunshine?”

“Emily,” I answered while trying to ignore his patronizing nickname for me. Regardless, I took some solace in the fact that Tucker wouldn’t be exposed to whatever the hell was going on inside the clubhouse. At least here he’d have some adult supervision, but that didn’t mean I was satisfied he’d be taken care of. Mr. Gifford had to prove it to me first.

I had no idea what I’d do if he didn’t. I couldn’t let myself think about it. My stomach churned so much I was afraid I’d embarrass myself by barfing all over my shoes. Or worse, his.

I maintained my “Fake it till you make it” mantra as we walked to the front door through a mountain of cigarette butts along the outside of the building. He stopped in front of the double metal doors and loomed threateningly over me. “You still sure you want that private conversation with me?”

Again, I couldn’t make out his facial features, but the rumbling warning in his voice had me shivering despite the warm July breeze. I wouldn’t be here but for the cute little guy who had eaten most of my pizza tonight. And who apparently needed a hero. I gulped. “I’m sure.”

Tuck’s dad pushed open the metal doors, and we descended into the third circle of hell. Between the throbbing rock music that I felt deep in my chest and the suspicious skunky smell, my senses were assaulted. It was wall-to-wall gluttony. Through the dim lighting I was able to make out a bar with a lot of alcohol on tap and a handful of bikers standing around. The ones who weren’t standing sat at a few round tables, and they weren’t alone. I counted four mostly naked women sitting on men with their mouths otherwise occupied. One topless blonde with huge fake boobs popped up from under the table. I had no doubt what she’d been up to as she wiped a mixture of drool, milky liquid, and smeared lipstick on her arm.

There was no way in hell I was leaving Tucker here. What kinda father was this man? Not a good one, from what I’d seen so far.

My white sundress shined like a beacon, drawing everyone’s eyes as we walked through the den of iniquity. After spying that little blow-job scene, I averted my eyes and trained them on the back of Mr. Gifford’s vest instead. True Brothers. Nothing I’d seen so far made me think of brotherly love. A low groan from nearby had my eyes bulging. Case in point.

I couldn’t help myself. I craned my neck in the direction of said groan, but before I could catch a glimpse of the floor show, I ran into the back of Mr. Gifford. The impact sent me sideways, and I teetered on my wedge heels. My ankle twisted, and I crashed to the floor.

A smattering of mocking applause broke out.

Annoyed at both my gracelessness and the jerks behind me, I put my hand down to shove myself back up and immediately felt something wet and sticky on my palm. With a muted shriek I jerked my hand away and shook it. I couldn’t see anything in the dim lighting, but I made a mental note to douse myself in bleach later.

Tucker’s dad grunted. “You’re getting to be more trouble than you’re worth.”

And before I knew it, he’d grabbed me by the arm and swung me up and over his shoulder. Hoots and catcalls sounded behind us. My face burned from my embarrassment and probably the blood rushing to my head.

“Fuck her good, Prez!” someone shouted from the bar.

“Oh my God. Put me down,” I gasped. I didn’t need to look up to know that everyone in the building was watching us. I could practically feel their eyes searing into my body.

“Hold your horses,” he said and grunted as he juggled me and what I guessed from the jangling noise to be a set of keys. A second later a door popped open and he carried me into a room. Mr. Gifford kicked the door behind him and it closed with a loud thud. The pounding bass took a backseat to the throbbing of my pulse, which was so loud I was sure he could hear it.

I was alone. With a biker.

Before I had a chance to untangle my panicked thoughts, I saw the keys skitter onto the desk as we passed.

“Let’s take a look at that ankle.”

“I’m fine. Really. You can put me down. It doesn’t hurt.” The last thing I wanted was his hands all over me. Or so I tried to convince myself…

He plopped me onto a leather couch and knelt in front of me. With the lighting behind him, I still couldn’t make out any distinguishing features. I watched helplessly as he unbuckled my shoes. The tender side of this large biker confused me. And it was at odds with the scene we’d just walked through in the clubhouse. He palpated my ankle as he twisted my foot left, then right.

Unable to hide my gasp, I pulled my foot out of his hands. “Ouch.”

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we should put some ice on that.”

“It’s fine.” I looked away from the sight of him at my feet. It unnerved me. Instead, I took in my surroundings. It was bigger than I would’ve guessed for an office in a biker clubhouse. He had a desk, a few chairs, and two leather sofas that had seen some life, judging by their wear. The cracked leather bit into my thigh when I fidgeted.

Ignoring me, he leaned over toward a small fridge I hadn’t noticed at the end of the couch. A few minutes later I had a bag of ice on my ankle and my bare foot in the lap of this large biker.

“So you mind telling me how the hell you show up here with my kid?” His rough voice made my eyes dart away from the enthralling sight of his thumbs caressing my foot and to the face I’d been avoiding.

The impression I’d gotten of him earlier was just as true in the light of his office. He was a big guy, but the details I hadn’t been able to see previously held me spellbound now. His face had that hard manly look, but was softened by full lips that were nearly camouflaged by his closely cropped beard. But it was his eyes that captivated me. They were a soft blue, the same shade as my favorite pair of faded jeans. “I, um…”

“Sunshine?” His eyes crinkled as something resembling a smile spread across his face.

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole since I was pretty sure he knew that I was attracted to him. Oh God. I thought he was hot? There was something officially wrong with me. Given what I’d seen on my walk through this place, and what someone had yelled at me, attraction should be the last thing on my mind. I didn’t belong here—my bare foot in his large, calloused hands kinda underlined that point. His type would eat me alive given half the chance. What was I doing here?

“Sunshine? My kid? How’d you get him?” His voice reflected his growing impatience and snapped me back into reality.

“I, uh, came home today to him sitting on the front steps of our apartment complex with a bag of groceries. Well, ‘groceries’ probably isn’t the right term. He had a sack of junk food next to him and apparently had been locked out of the apartment. Again.”

He shot up off the sofa and paced the floor in front of me impatiently. “Goddamn it. I knew I should’ve put a guy on her place. That fucking bitch.”

I grabbed the bag of ice off the floor where it’d landed when he’d jumped up, and put it onto my ankle again. Trying to stay calm in the face of his growing agitation, I watched him pace. I didn’t know what to say to pacify him, so I kept quiet.

Mr. Gifford’s anger was palpable in the suddenly smaller room. “What do you mean again? He’s been locked out and left alone before?”

“I, um, yeah. A few times. He has a key, but he’s only eight—he has a hard time keeping track of it. Usually he hangs out with me or another family in our building, but they’re out of town on vacation right now.”

“So, if you hadn’t come home, he would’ve been outside alone for fuck knows how long?”

My shoulders hunched as his anger grew. “Uh-huh.”

“And he had a sack of groceries with him? Which means fucking Rhonda isn’t coming home tonight. Or who knows how fucking long. Son of a bitch.” He pivoted and drove his fist into the wall.

I couldn’t help the shriek that left me as the wall above my head exploded and rained dust and bits of Sheetrock down on me. My heart raced as it brought back memories of Michael and the stuff he did to terrorize me.

Years of self-preservation instincts took over, and I ducked around his large body, then practically ran to the door on the other side of the room as fast as my bum ankle would let me. I was inches away from freedom when a large hand shot past my face and braced against the door.

I shrieked again and dropped down, my hand shielding my face from the impending blow.

But it never came.

I peeked through my fingers and found Mr. Gifford standing over me with a determined expression on his face.

“You’re not going anywhere, ’cause we’re not done. If I were gonna hit a woman, you wouldn’t even crack my top five.”

He said it like my reaction was crazy. I stood and backed away from him, putting myself out of his reach. Where I found the courage to say my next words, I don’t know. “No, you just hit the wall next to my head. Why shouldn’t I think I would be next? It’s not like Rhonda is here to get the beat-down you clearly think she deserves.”

“No. Fuck no. Christ.” He ran a shaky hand over his buzzed hair. “I just…I grew up with…Fuck. I wouldn’t, okay? If Rhonda is out there walking around just fine, you got nothing to worry about.”

“No, not okay. Now move away from the door and let me go. I’m getting the hell outta here. Me and Tucker.”

His expression hardened at the mention of his son. “The fuck you are.”

“Fine.” I walked back across the room to where I’d dropped my purse in my frantic rush. “I’ll just call the police and let them know what’s going on here. Both with your little club and your kid.”

Before I could dial a nine, my phone disappeared out of my hands and into his. “Hey!”

He tucked my phone into his back pocket, then held his palms up like he wasn’t a threat. “No one’s calling anyone. Give me a minute to explain the situation, and you’ll see that Tucker is just fine here. With me.”

“Here?” I asked, incredulous. “Seriously? You have guys getting blow jobs out there. That’s not an environment for a child.” I couldn’t bring myself to mention that despite his protestations, he obviously had an anger problem. I could only hint vaguely at it. “If I don’t feel safe here, why should Tucker?”

“Because I’m his father. Because I would die before anything touched a hair on his head. He’s safe here. Hell, he’s inside a locked room with a person I trust with my life.”

I shook my head. “It’s not enough.”

He huffed an irritated breath. “Fine. Come out to my house. See what kind of environment I provide for my son and then tell me what you really think.”

“Give me back my phone and I’ll come with you.” Like hell. The second I had my hands on that phone I was calling the authorities. They could sort out the cluster of who was an acceptable parent. As far as I could see, neither one of them was worthy of that sweet boy.

“I will.” He nodded. “In the morning. No shady shit, I swear. You’ll have your own room. And you can see Tucker all you want.”

So for all intents and purposes, he was kidnapping me.

I tried not to panic. My mind whirled as I ran through scenarios. I knew I couldn’t count on Zag. He’d made his stance clear when I showed up. This wasn’t my world and I wasn’t welcome in it. And I really doubted that anyone in the clubhouse would help me. Heck, for all I knew, even those women weren’t here willingly.

But was Reb such a horrible guy? He was so sweet when he talked about his kid. And he’d been so gentle and caring about my welfare up until now. Yes, he was technically holding me hostage, but it was because he cared about his son—that wonderful, loving boy who clearly didn’t have the best of examples in his mother. I knew more than anyone how easily the foster care system could fail. And I could see the way Tucker idolized his dad. Was this man worth such devotion?

“I’ll go with you, but know this,” I pointed a finger at him, but for all my bravado, my hand—like the rest of my body—shook uncontrollably. “I called Jessica when I came here tonight. She knows where I am, and she’ll move heaven and earth for me. We’re closer than sisters. She gives a damn about me and won’t buy your club business bullshit for a second.”

Reb’s eyes narrowed at my “club business bullshit” line, but other than that he showed no reaction.

“And if I’m not happy with what I find out tonight at your home with Tucker, I’ll get ahold of the cops, DCFS, and the freaking FBI if I need to. That kid will be safe tonight and every other night if I have anything to say about it.”

I hadn’t thought it possible, but Reb’s expression lightened and something almost resembling a smile softened his granite-like features. But still he didn’t say anything. He just jerked his head in a tight nod.

I let out a shuddering breath. “Fine. I’ll go home with you and Tucker.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic, sunshine.” Reb picked up a longneck beer that had been sitting on his desk. He raised the bottle toward me in an ironic toast. “You won’t regret it. You’ll see.”

Famous last words.