Chapter Fifteen
Beck
Jack stared at Sammy as she stormed off.
“Tread carefully, Jack,” I warned him. “She can’t see it because Carrie has only ever shown her one side of her personality.”
“I wish I knew what it was that bugged me so much about her,” he whispered.
“Maybe have Nav do a deep dive on her. Find out what he can dig up,” I suggested. If anyone could find the information, it would be him.
“That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. If I say anything tonight, he’ll leave the party and get started.”
“Hey, baby, your dad’s here.” Blade wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. Neither he nor Jack said anything to each other. I waited another beat before chastising them both.
“You two are acting like children.”
“He started it.” Jack pouted.
“I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done for me,” Blade countered.
Stepping out of Blade’s arms, I shook my head at them both.
“Seriously, you two?” I crossed my arms and glared at them. “Work this shit out.”
I turned on my heel, ignoring them both, and went in search of my father. I should have known I would find him at the food tent. The man ate more than anyone I knew, including Tank and he was huge.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, baby girl.” He slung his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in tight, kissing my head. “This is quite a spread.”
“Hash did most of it. I don’t think these guys would survive without him.” I laughed.
“So, where’s the birthday asshole?”
“Dad, please. I am already dealing with Micah and Jack acting like children. I don’t need you doing it too.”
My dad looked down at me.
“What’s going on with them?” he asked.
“Ugh. Jack wanted to claim Samantha, and Blade voted against it.”
“What the fuck? He doesn’t want his best friend to be happy? Asshole.” He smirked.
“Stop it.” I slapped his chest. “It’s not that. There are some things going on and the two of them are just being stubborn. They’ll work it out, eventually.”
“Well, if you need me to beat some sense…”
I looked up at my dad when his voice trailed off.
“Dad?” I followed his gaze to where Samantha was talking to Carrie. “What’s wrong?”
“Who is that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward the two women.
“Who, Samantha? You know her. She works at The Diner,” I said, confused.
“No, the other woman talking to her.”
“Oh, that’s Carrie. Samantha’s friend,” I replied. Noticing a strange expression cross his face, I said, “Dad?”
“She seems familiar. I can’t place her, but I’m sure I know her.” He continued to stare at Carrie. She must have felt someone looking because she turned and looked at us. Her eyes widened for just a second.
Samantha must have noticed, because she turned as well. She smiled like she thought Carrie was staring at my dad because he was handsome.
I noticed the moment fear clouded her expression. It wasn’t there long, but it was definitely there.
Interesting.
“Do you think you know her from Arkansas?” I asked him.
“Maybe,” he replied distractedly, his eyes still settled on Carrie. “What’s her name?”
“Carrie, I told you.”
“Carrie what, Beck?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I can ask Samantha. I told Jack he should have Nav look into her.”
Samantha touched Carrie’s arm, then turned and started walking in our direction, while Carrie walked in the other direction.
“Hello, Sheriff,” Samantha crooned, greeting my father.
“Hi, Samantha.”
“I think my friend might have a crush on your dad, Beck. She was asking all kinds of questions about him,” Samantha teased. “I don’t think I have ever seen her take an interest in someone in all the years I’ve known her.”
“How long have you known her?” my dad asked, taking his eyes off Carrie and focusing on Samantha.
“Gosh, almost seven years now.” Samantha elbowed my dad playfully, then offered, “I can introduce you, if you like.”
“How old is she?”
I could tell Samantha thought my dad was interested. And he was, but not for the reasons she thought. I’d gotten to know my dad pretty well since we found each other. One thing I’d learned was he had a way of interrogating you without you realizing what he was doing.
“Um, I think she’s thirty-two,” Samantha said.
“Hmmm, too young for me.” Dad smiled. “Maybe I’ll say hello though, when I make my rounds. First, I need to eat. I’m starving.” Dad stepped away, grabbing a plate and filling it with food.
“Samantha, I wanted to apologize for earlier. I don’t want you to think Jack and I were ganging up on you.”
“It’s fine. I know Jack doesn’t like Carrie. I think he’s just jealous because Carrie has known Charlie since birth. And I get it. I just wish he would give her a chance.”
“Give him some time,” I said.
I wouldn’t tell her that my dad, the cop, had some reservations also, and he hadn’t even met Carrie yet.
I agreed with Jack. There was something more going on.
“Mommy!”
Samantha and I both turned when we heard Charlie running over. She slammed into Samantha’s legs, wrapping her arms around them.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Samantha squatted down to comfort her distressed daughter.
“Auntie Carrie said I couldn’t blow the candles out because it wasn’t my birthday,” Charlie cried.
What the hell?
I looked over at where Carrie sat. Shotgun was talking her ear off, but she wasn’t paying any attention to him. Her eyes were on my father.
“Well, sweetie, it isn’t Auntie Carrie’s cake, so she doesn’t get to choose who blows out the candles,” Samantha said, trying to console the little girl.
“That’s right,” I confirmed. “Uncle Blade and I talked about it earlier, and he said there was no way he could blow out all those candles by himself. He will definitely need help from you and Chrissy, and maybe even Tabby, too,” I told her.
I took hold of her hand. “And since it’s his birthday and his cake. He gets to decide. Why don’t we go find him and see if he is ready for cake yet?”
“YES!” she cheered, pumping her little fist in the air.
“Let’s go find Chrissy.”
So that’s what we did. Charlie and I headed over to where Ryder was sitting with his parents.
“Hey, Chrissy, we are going to find Uncle Blade so he can blow out his birthday candles. He was hoping you and Charlie could help—”
“YES!” she shouted before I could finish.
Chrissy climbed down from her grandfather’s lap and took Charlie’s other hand.
“What about you Tabby? Do you want to help Uncle Blade blow out his candles?” I asked the quiet little girl .
Tabby looked at her dad.
“You can go with Auntie Beck if you want to,” Ryder told her.
Tabby smiled and nodded her head. She climbed off her grandmother’s lap and took my free hand.
The four of us set out looking for Micah. He was talking with a few of the brothers, right by where Carrie was sitting. This couldn’t work better if I’d set it up myself.
“Hey, Micah, I have a few girls here that want to blow out some birthday candles,” I called out.
“Oh, they do, huh?” he replied. “Hey, Tabbycat, you gonna help me blow out my birthday candles?”
Micah held his hands out to the quiet little girl, and she leaped from my arms to his.
There weren’t many people Tabby liked.
Aside from Ryder, her grandparents, and her nanny, Tabby loved me. But that didn’t even come close to what she felt for Micah.
Ryder pouted often, convinced she might even love Micah more than she loved him.
“You girls ready to help, too?” he asked the four- and five-year-old at my side.
“YES!” they shouted simultaneously.
“Hash is bringing the cake out now.”
Everyone turned to see Hash rolling a cart over to where Micah had sat down. He had Tabby on his lap, and Chrissy and Charlie stood on either side of him.
As soon as the candles were lit, everyone began singing happy birthday.
I felt someone step in behind me.
“It’s not a good idea to teach the girls that they can horn in on someone else’s celebration.” Carrie tsked.
I turned around to face the woman who was quickly making herself unwanted.
“Those girls are the most important people in Micah’s life. So important that he would choose them over me if he had to. He wanted to share this with them. ”
That was true. He never had siblings, so the only nephews and nieces he would have would belong to his club brothers. Yes, we would have our own children one day. But Ryder and Jack, well, none of the club brothers would ever be as close to him as those two. So their girls meant as much to him as our own children would one day.
“That seems a little unhealthy. Are they safe around a grown man that is so obsessed with them?”
This bitch did not just say what I think she said.
“What did you say?” I asked, trying to give her the benefit of the doubt.
“Well, if he will put those girls ahead of you, the woman he has sex with, I have to wonder about his inten—”
I wasn’t proud of myself.
I blamed my father.
It was his DNA that had given me my short fuse.
You know, the infamous Irish temper and all that.
When Carrie had the goddamn audacity to insinuate that Micah had anything but a fatherly love for those girls, well, like I said, I wasn’t proud of myself.
Then again, maybe I was.
I pulled my arm back and my fist connected with her face. Careful to pull my punch enough, so her nose didn’t break.
The bitch needed to bleed, though.
“What the fuck?” I heard from behind me.
“Becca!” Micah stood at my side as I stared down at Carrie. “Baby, what the hell?”
“Don’t piss that woman off.” Someone chuckled behind us.
“Carrie! Are you ok?” Samantha was now kneeling beside her. She glared up at me.
Please, the bitch was fine.
She wouldn’t be though, if she didn’t hightail it home.
I looked over at Jack, who just stood there holding a wide-eyed Charlie. When he winked, I lifted my chin to him. You know, the way badass bikers congratulated each other.
“Carrie, it’s time you left,” I said, then turned around and asked, “Who wants cake?”
I walked over and started cutting the cake into pieces. I didn’t get to see the girls blow out the candles with Micah. Hopefully, someone had recorded it.
Looking up to hand off a piece of cake, I saw my uncle glaring at me. With his arms crossed over his chest, he lifted his eyebrow. Looking at me every bit like the badass president he was.
I shrugged.
“Sweetheart.”
“Don’t start with me. She deserved it,” I defended.
“What did she do?” my uncle asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, handing out pieces of cake.
“Baby girl.”
I closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for the lecture I was about to receive. For someone who missed out on twenty-five years, he was certainly making up for it with the way he liked to lecture me for every minor infraction.
Ok, so maybe this one time I deserved the lecture.
“Yes, Daddy?” I asked sweetly.
“Don’t even try it, little girl.”
I growled. He knew I hated being called a little girl.
“Nice shot, Beck,” Zero praised when I handed him a piece of cake.
“Shut it, Zero,” King barked.
“Becca, give the knife to Grace. She can finish. We need to talk.”
Sighing heavily, I relinquished my chore.
“You go, girl,” Grace whispered, just loud enough for me to hear. And my uncle too, apparently.
“Grace,” King growled.
“Shut it, big guy. Go bitch at the boss babe. She only did what the rest of us have wanted to do since meeting her,” Grace snarked.
“What? ”
We all turned toward Samantha.
Shit.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I know she’s your friend. But the way she talks to people, especially the little girls, is not OK,” Grace explained.
“What do you mean by the way she talks to the girls? Samantha asked.
“She’s judgmental, condescending, and just plain mean,” Jade piped up.
“Charlie?” Samantha looked at her little girl. “Has Auntie Carrie been mean to you?”
Charlie buried her face in Jack’s throat. “Not to me.”
“Shortcake, who was Carrie mean to?” Jack asked his daughter quietly.
“Chrissy and Tabby. She told Tabby she was dumb cause she doesn’t talk.” Charlie cried then.