Chapter 3 Rachel
THREE YEARS EARLIER—
“You don’t have to be scared. No one can hurt you inside.”
I already knew that, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
Not when I had to step inside a prison to visit my father.
No young woman should have to visit criminals to see her dad.
I hated having to come here. If it wasn’t for my promise, I probably wouldn’t have done it.
But my father wasn’t a man who could be easily refused.
Everyone called him Hannibal. I didn’t want to learn the reason why his motorcycle club had given him that road name.
His reputation as a ruthless, clever businessman was as well known as his life as a Graven Bastards MC member.
I bet nearly everyone in the state of Nevada knew my father and his club. And it wasn’t for all bad reasons.
The GBMC also helped the people in Tonopah, Goldfield, Indian Springs, and Vegas. They raised money for charity, organized toy drives for Christmas, and kept the residents safe. Still, I knew what Hannibal was capable of, and I kept my distance once I had my daughter.
But I had a promise to keep today. I wouldn’t go back on my word. Hannibal raised me to live by a code of honor, and he never betrayed that oath even when it hurt. Not once did he ever back out of a promise, and I couldn’t either. Not when we shared something so special.
I squared my shoulders back. “I’m fine. It’s his birthday. Can I take this cake to him or not?”
I baked Hannibal a small chocolate cake with chocolate fudge frosting. My dad didn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but this was my favorite, and since today was my birthday too, I wanted to share it with him.
“Is there a nail file in there? Or something dangerous?”
I rolled my eyes. This guard flirted with me the last time I came to visit, which was exactly one year earlier, right after my father got pinched for forgery, breaking and entering, and grand larceny.
Somehow, he only got eighteen months total for the crimes.
Still, that meant two birthdays inside prison and two required visits.
“No.”
“Maybe I should dig my fingers in there and check. Looks delicious.” His gaze roamed over me from head to toe instead of the covered container in my hand.
What a pervert.
“You’ll ruin it. I’d really like to take this in and have my birthday cake with my dad. Please,” I added, disgusted by the guard.
His nametag read Phil.
“I tell ya what, if you save me a slice, you can go in.” He winked like he had the right to insist on it.
Asshole.
“Uh, okay,” I finally agreed because I didn’t want to stay here any longer and debate it with him.
Phil finally let me sign in and then ushered me through the check-in process, deliberating patting me down to ensure I wasn’t hiding anything in my dress or shoes.
Ridiculous. I knew the rules. I didn’t risk bringing my purse, phone, or even jewelry.
When his hands started to lift the hem of my dress, I stepped away from him, giving Phil a glare.
“That’s not necessary.”
He shrugged. “Follow me.”
I sighed as I obeyed, shooting imaginary daggers at his back as he led me into the visiting room, which resembled a school cafeteria, including the stainless steel tables and chairs.
It looked clean, but it was hard to trust that this area was cleaned properly every day.
Considering it was a high-traffic area, I’d be sanitizing my hands as soon as I left and going home to throw everything I wore into the laundry.
I’d worn a dress today to look nice, but now I was debating whether it was a good idea since Phil couldn’t seem to stop staring.
It wasn’t tight or revealing in my opinion, just a cute summer dress that reached below the knee and a light sweater over it.
Still, pervs like him believed I wanted attention simply because I chose to wear it.
I’d chosen boots to go with it, so I wasn’t opposed to kicking the shit out of anyone who tried to hurt me in here.
So yeah, the promise tumbling from Phil’s mouth didn’t mean shit.
My daddy didn’t raise a fool. He raised a little firecracker who could take care of herself, and she had to learn young since he wasn’t around much.
Ugh. I really didn’t need a stroll down memory lane today.
Keep it together, Rach.
Hannibal was waiting for me at one of the closest tables. As soon as he saw me, he stood and opened his arms wide. It didn’t matter that I was twenty-six or a grown woman; everything faded in an instant as he enveloped me in a fierce hug.
“Missed you, baby girl.”
“Happy birthday, Daddy.” I popped a kiss on his whiskered cheek. “How are you?”
We separated, and I placed the cake on the table, opened the lid, and pulled out the plastic knife, two forks, and napkins. I smiled in triumph because Phil was so distracted by my dress that he never thought to check inside the container.
“How’d you smuggle that in?” Hannibal’s lips curled into a grin. “Smart girl.”
“I’m irresistible.” It was meant as a joke, but my dad’s gaze shot to Phil.
“He touch you?”
“He got a little handsy with the security check,” I admitted. “But I stopped him from trying to get underneath my dress.”
Hannibal locked eyes with Phil, and the guard squirmed, moving backward until his back met the wall. Something passed between them, and Phil’s chin dipped. He wasn’t stupid. My father could probably have him killed for pulling what he did.
But I wasn’t going to have anyone’s blood on my hands. “Let it go. Please.”
Hannibal nodded. “Only because it’s your birthday.” His gaze finally pulled from Phil and returned to me. His features softened. “Happy birthday, baby girl. Got you a gift.”
A gift? From inside prison?
“Uh, how?”
“I have my ways.” He reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulled out a slip of paper, placed it down, and slid it across to me. “Take a look.”
I picked it up, staring at the note. It stated the name of the company I got my car loan through, the total, and a payoff date of today. My eyes widened. “Dad?”
“Yeah. I paid off your loan. You don’t need saddled with that much debt.”
“It’s too much!” I owed twenty-two thousand dollars.
“Consider it more than a gift. A beginning, baby girl. Restitution. I wasn’t always there for you the way I should have been. Took me gettin’ locked up to realize my mistakes.”
“Dad.”
“No, Rachel. It’s time I did right by you. Let me. Please.”
It was the broken please, quickly covered by a hard swallow, that cemented my acceptance. I nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Let’s have some of that cake. Looks delicious.”
I cut him a massive slice and placed it on a napkin, holding out a fork. “You get the first bite.”
His lips twitched. “All right.” He dug into it, lifting a generous bite to his mouth. He blinked as he chewed and tilted his head. “Damn, baby girl. You’ve gotten good at baking.”
I beamed with pride and cut my own slice, taking a small forkful and nearly moaning with pleasure as the chocolate filled my mouth.
There was something special about homemade cakes, even if they came from a box.
Maybe it was the care and love that always went into them, but I believed they were special.
My mother always made my cakes growing up.
It was a tradition I continued with Rylee.
And my daughter? Her favorite was chocolate fudge, just like mine.
We enjoyed our slices, and then I grabbed two cups of water for us to wash them down. Once I covered the container and slapped the lid on, I turned to my dad, wondering if he would finally tell me the real story about why he got locked up.
Sure, I knew what the public records said, but I also knew my father was incredibly clever. He didn’t get caught because he was careless. “You know I’m going to ask.”
He nodded. “I do.”
“Are you going to tell me this time?”
“If I do, will you drop it? Or go on some silly mission to try and free me and get the charges dropped?”
Wow. He knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
“I can’t promise a damn thing, Dad.”
He snorted. “Thought so.”
“Then I guess you should be happy because I’m just as tenacious as you are, maybe even more so since I’ve had Rylee.”
He laughed. “How is my little munchkin?”
Rylee turned five a few months earlier. “She’s a good kid. Bright. Funny. Too smart for her own good,” I laughed. “She keeps me busy in the best way.”
I loved being a mother. It was an experience I didn’t expect, but one I would never trade. Rylee was my whole world.
“And Doyle?” Hannibal nearly spat his name.
“We’re trying to work things out.”
“For Rylee,” he guessed.
I nodded. “Yes. She deserves to have two parents. I don’t want to drag her through a divorce. She’s so young, Dad.”
“But he’s a piece of shit, waste of life, motherfucking,” he paused and sighed. “Sorry, baby girl. Not ever gonna see how he deserves you.”
I knew that. It didn’t change my choices, but I understood.
Silence stretched between us, growing wider as a chasm of years apart, misunderstandings, and secrets separated us from the relationship we should have had.
“Dad.”
“I know, baby girl. For what it’s worth, I love you. Always have. Made a lot of mistakes, but I’m trying. Every fucking day, I’m gonna keep giving this all I’ve got.”
I reached across the table and squeezed his hand. One of the guards tried to step forward, but Hannibal shot him a warning look. Phil remained in place, carefully observing, but not interfering.
“I appreciate that, Dad.”
He squeezed my hands in return and sat back. “I’ve got five months left. As soon as I’m out, I want to see you and Rylee.”
I wasn’t sure about that.
“Hey, give me a chance, baby girl. I’m not gonna take either of you to the clubhouse yet. I just want to visit. Not asking for anything else.”
It was hard to say no to him. “Okay.”
“Yeah?” He perked up, looking pleased. “That’s great. You won’t regret it.”
I hoped not. You couldn’t change who your family was or your DNA.
That was never in our control. I knew at his core, Hannibal was a good man.
He just led a hard life. But if I judged him and kept my distance, I’d miss out on a relationship with my father, and I’d lost enough years.
Not to mention, Rylee should know her grandfather even in a controlled setting.
I’d take it slow and see how things went once he got out. Right now, I wasn’t making any promises other than to give this a try. The ball was in his court now. At least, it would be in five months once he was a free man again.
There was a shout behind us, and I turned my head to see the guards rushing toward the nearest doors. I blinked as I saw a crowd through the slim windows in each door, and what appeared to be men fighting with one another.
Hannibal shoved to his feet. “Get out of here, Rachel. Go! Now!”
I didn’t understand. I rose on shaky legs, confused when I saw the guards lift their weapons and begin firing through the narrow panes of glass. A large group of inmates was pushing against the door, shoving their way past the guards.
Oh my God!
Was this a riot!?
“Rachel, run!”
As soon as the words left Hannibal’s mouth, I saw a bullet hit his right shoulder. The impact threw him backward, and he hit the nearest wall, knocked out by the force of it.
Horror spread through my veins like wildfire as I debated running to him or dropping to the ground to avoid gunfire.
The problem was solved for me when a stranger tackled me to the ground, and a man stretched his body over mine, covering me completely. He shielded me from more bullets as they whizzed through the air, terror seizing my brain as I began to tremble.
“Hey, darlin’, no worries. I’ve got you.”
That was all he said before I stared into eyes so silvery gray I wondered if they were real.
And then a bullet sank into his right side, and blood began to soak into my dress. The wet heat of it seemed to tether us together. His injured body protected mine. My shaking hand pressed to his leaking wound. Two souls locked in the same unpredictable, dangerous situation.
But my mind only latched onto one thing: I wasn’t going to survive this.