Chapter 20
KILLA
“’Preciate’ you helpin’ me with this.” I point toward the blue paint can on the dust sheet.
Warrior’s brow furrows, and he glances from the paint can to the beer in my hand. “Pretty fuckin’ sure I’m doin’ it for ya, not exactly helpin’ ya.”
I lift my shoulder. “Semantics.”
He snorts and shakes his head but continues highlighting the tire on the sports car he’s hand drawn on the wall.
Warrior is a damn good artist, something not too many people know.
It’s something he gave up on when he went to prison and his life changed forever.
He didn’t just lose his freedom; he lost everyone close to him that day, besides his brothers, of course.
We’re always here, unholy to the core, loyal.
“I love my car, Warrior.” Noah grins, pointing to the wall.
The kid is virtually covered head to toe in yellow paint.
I swear he has more on him than the walls.
He looks cute as hell, though. “Mama’s room is almost done, Killa.
” He beams, holding the paintbrush out toward me and inadvertently splatting it on the floor.
“You look like a minion.” Warrior chuckles, and I take another drink of my beer. I’ve no fucking clue what a minion is, but I’m guessing it’s something kids are into. Warrior is the only brother to keep tabs on what kids are into these days—fuck knows why.
“You’ve done good, buddy. Why don’t you go and wash up.” I ruffle his hair, then grimace at the paint that rubs off on his head.
“Stella said I got to help you.”
Warrior’s eyes widen. “Not a fuckin’ chance,” he grumbles low enough only for my ears.
“Come ’ere, minion.” I swoop down and grab him from under his arms. “Let’s go clean you up before your mama wakes.” He throws his head back with an exaggerated giggle and drops his paintbrush to the floor, and I’m grateful Warrior had the foresight to cover the freshly laid carpets.
While Cass is resting, I got a few of the brothers to help me fix up my house for them to move into.
We have fresh carpets throughout, and a fresh coat of paint in every room, and although we’re going to need to modernize the kitchen and bathroom soon, it’ll do for now. It’s bigger and in a better state than Cass’s apartment, so hopefully, she’ll be okay with making do with it for now.
Each room is spacious, and although the house has been empty for years, it’s fully functioning, thanks to Warrior fixing up electricity in all properties over the years.
The man might have some demons surrounding family, but he’s always had a vision with the properties, a sense of purpose beyond simply existing and collecting dust.
I plonk Noah down on the bathmat, then grab the same peachy product Cass uses to wash herself in.
Smells fucking delicious, and after scouring the shelves of the local supermarket to find it, I finally located the very scent I’d become obsessed with.
So much so, I have them in my en suite at the clubhouse and here in my house.
“Mama is going to be sooo happy with this surprise.” Noah widens his arms, his cheeky smile lights up the room, and I can’t help the laugh that rumbles from my chest.
“You think?”
“Yep, and we safe here.”
My heart squeezes tight. “Yeah, you are, buddy. Real safe.”
“Cuz you bikers are the good guys.”
My throat clogs. Of course he has no idea what he’s saying.
The kid doesn’t know we’re far from the good guys he believes us to be.
We butcher our enemies; I cut off the fingers of those who touch what doesn’t belong to them.
“Yeah,” I grunt, unable to make eye contact with him as I dump the peachy stuff into the bath, adding it to the running water.
“Are we going to have bubbles?” he asks, and my mind goes back to the fact he doesn’t have them at the apartment.
“Yeah, buddy. Lots of ’em.”
“Yes!” He throws his fist high. “I’ve never had the bubbles before,” he says while staring into the bubbles forming in the tub.
My heart races and my throat becomes dry, knowing he’s missed out on some of life’s simplest things without even realizing it. It has me wanting to gift him the damn world. His mama too.
I get down on my knees next to him. “You okay with me helping you get undressed and into the tub?”
He gives me a swift nod.
“Hold your arms up, buddy.” He does as I ask, and I drop his T-shirt to the floor. It’s a good thing Abs brought over some clean clothes for them; he’s going to need it. “Did you have a bath at your old house?” I ask.
He scowls, and I’m not even sure he realizes he’s doing it. “At the farmhouse?”
I nod back at him and make a mental note to ask Hunter to do some digging into their previous address.
He said their files were buried deep, but there must be something in the press about where Benjamin was located.
If all else fails, I could arrange a meeting with this Gavin prick, though I’d prefer not to.
I’m not sure Cass would appreciate another finger being gifted to her.
“Me and my mama washed in a bucket,” he says nonchalantly.
Ice slithers through my skin, curdling my blood, and I freeze.
“B-Benjamin made Mama cry when he put her in the tub.” As much as I hate hearing the scumbag’s name on his tongue, a sense of pride washes over me that he doesn’t call him dad.
Not when I plan on being his dad. I grind my teeth so hard I’m not even aware I am doing it until the bite of pain hits my jaw.
“Why did she cry?” I’m not even sure why I ask.
I don’t want to know anything more about her trauma, yet there’s a huge part of me that wants to know it all, that wants to take her pain away even when I know there’s no possibility of that.
Maybe me being aware of her nightmare will help me understand our dynamic a little better, it might help me become a better man for her and father for Noah and our babies.
“He held her head in the water until she couldn’t breathe, and it was really cold water. Not like that one.” He points toward the warm bubbles congregating around the taps.
“This is how good baths are supposed to be,” I say, wishing I could get my hands on the sadistic prick and combine every one of his twisted actions into one to torture him with.
I help him out of his jeans and underwear. “You ready, buddy?”
“Yes!” His eyes light up at the bubbles almost overflowing the tub, and when I place him in it, he squeals. “I love it here, Killa.”
“Love you bein’ here, kid.”