Chapter 8
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Van
As I prop Gagey on my hip and walk around toward the back, a smile splits my face.
They said to follow the blasting tunes, but what they didn’t tell me is that it’d sound as if a concert was taking place on the premises.
So far, from what I’ve heard, it’s an eclectic blend of soundtracks.
As I drove up, I heard some AC/DC playing, and now, Tim McGraw is up on the menu and blasting his way through the speakers, singing about the highway not caring.
The bass is vibrating the ground, I guess it’s a damn good thing they don’t have to worry about neighbors calling in a nuisance report.
“You made it!” Issy proclaims, walking out the backdoor ladened down with bowls in her arms and chip bags dangling between her fingers.
“I did. Do you need help with that?” I can’t imagine how she’s managing. Even with the waitressing I did in high school, I wouldn’t be able to manage the load she’s carting around. Even back then I would’ve struggled.
“Nope. I’ve got this. It’s not my first time and I promise, it won’t be my last,” she replies, making googly faces at Gagey.
When my boy gurgles at her, trying to communicate with her that he likes what she’s doing, she laughs. “He’s easily entertained, isn’t he?”
“He is. From what I’ve been told from the mother groups I’m in on social media, he’s a blessing,” I comment. “I’m not sure what I did in another life to end up with such a good baby, but I’ll take it.”
“He’s just good natured like his momma. Aren’t you, little G?” Issy asks him, her voice turning from a clear speech pattern to a cooing one.
“You too?” I ask, shaking my head while laughing. “He’s brainwashed you.”
“Nah, but you have to admit, it’s catchy,” she rebuts, a smile stretching across her face.
I won’t admit it out loud because that’d be stroking her man’s ego, but it really is. I may have to adopt it when we’re not here to where he can overhear me using it. “Maybe.”
“You like it don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll keep my lips zipped and won’t tell him you do,” she states, her smile broadening.
“I’m going to plead the fifth,” I respond as we make it to the table where food is spread out on it. “Wow. Y’all went all out.”
“Believe it or not, this is nothing compared to most of our parties,” she says, waving her now free hands around. “You should come visit when we have something planned, we cook enough to feed an army and then some.”
“Do you ever have any leftovers?” I ask, my eyes widening at the mental picture she just provided. There’s an abundance of food piled on top of food, so I can’t imagine there being more, especially since none of the barbecue has been pulled off the grill and added to the picnic table.
Off to the side, an excited little girl squeals which has me rounding in a semi-circle until I find the culprit. “Mama! She has a baby!”
“Yes, she does, baby girl,” the woman confirms as she sticks out her hand saying, “I’m Zoey. I belong to that one.” I follow her finger and see a man standing next to Riptide, the two of them look like they’re in the middle of a deep conversation. “This enthusiastic one is my daughter, Elodie.”
A man, who resembles a Viking, braids and all, and who must’ve been hiding in the depths of the shadows pops out of nowhere scaring the beejesus out of me.
His voice is dark and menacing as he says, “Princess, you’re not supposed to talk to strangers.
” What has me internally freaking out is that he’s looking at me as if it’s my fault she came up and spoke to me.
But truthfully, it wasn’t me she was talking to, it was her mother, so I’m innocent in this.
“But Uncle Icer, my daddy says you’re strange and I talk to you. Lots,” she excuses, sticking out her bottom lip. “And I want to play with the baby.”
My eyes widen, I’m suddenly frightened for an entirely different reason altogether.
Men like him don’t like to be belittled in any way, shape, or form, and this kiddo just basically did that and more.
I start to glide in front of her to protect her from his wrath, but something unbelievable happens, the man’s eyes soften and if he were an animal, I’d swear under oath that he starts purring.
I glance at Issy with a ‘what the fuck’ look and she rolls her eyes at me, mouthing, ‘he’s a softie’.
I snort because her assessment of him and mine are completely on different sides of the spectrum.
“Who are you?” the man, Icer, asks. The way he invades my personal space has me backpedaling. He’s leaning into me which has me curving my back and tucking my son closer to my chest. “Don’t know you. Why are you here?”
“Back off, Icer,” I hear growled. I twist my head and notice Riptide, as well as the man Zoey said was hers, standing there with their arms crossed and a no nonsense look on their faces.
They’re just as intimidating as the blond Viking jackass is.
It seems around these parts, the bigger they are the more obvious the asshole gene is.
“Tell me who she is first,” this Icer guy demands.
“That’s Van and the little guy in her arms is little G, he’s Gage’s son,” Riptide announces.
Icer’s eyes narrow on me and he leans in closer for a more intimate inspection. We’re now practically nose-to-nose as he scans my baby. Instinctually, I place my hand over his head and tuck him in closer to me. “Back up, please,” I say through gritted teeth. I’m not used to this sort of invasion.
“Icer,” Riptide grunts. “Do as the lady asks.”
“Give her some breathing room, brother,” Zoey’s other half orders. I take a closer look at where his title is stitched so I don’t keep referencing him as Zoey’s man and see his name is Indiana.
“He’s Gage’s?” Icer asks for confirmation.
“He is,” I corroborate. I may not be proud of Gage and the way he treated these people, but I am of our son. “Did you know him?”
Icer huffs before turning a glare on me, and answers, “I did. For most of my life. He double-crossed us. I’m not a fan.”
“I’m aware and I figured,” I remark, hitting both of his key points in one sentence. “I’m sorry for what he did. I didn’t know that piece of him.”
He snarls at me and jabs his beefy finger in my face.
“His dad may have been a traitor, but he was ours. Don’t take little G away from us or I’ll hunt you down.
” With that, he turns away from me and plucks Elodie off the ground, hanging her upside down causing her to giggle in the way only toddlers can and walks off with her.
“Why do I feel like I just survived a war?” I ask the circle of people surrounding me, wiping a droplet of sweat off my temple. “That was intense.”
“That’s Icer in a nutshell,” Indiana justifies. “He’s not a man of many words, as a matter of fact, that’s the most he’s ever said to a stranger.”
“Not true, he did the same with me and Elodie,” Zoey reminds him.
“That was different and you know why,” he says, playfully smacking her on the ass which has her yelping.
“You alright?” Riptide leans over and whispers the question in my ear.
Goosebumps erupt along my skin and I have the urge to rub them away.
But I don’t want him to see the effect he has on me so I ignore them.
Just like I ignored the way my heart sank when he rode away after he and Rio came to my rental cabin and told me all about my ex and his exploits.
I harrumph, untucking Gage from me, finally feeling safe enough to give him some breathing room. “I’m as okay as one can be after being stared down by a homicidal giant. What do y’all feed him anyway? Steroids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
Zoey laughs at my question but the guys just smirk. “Believe it or not, his bulk is natural. It runs in his family because his dad was built the same way. It’s why he’s the perfect example of an enforcer,” Riptide tells me. “That and his take no shit attitude.”
I don’t feel like discussing my take on his attitude, my mouth has been known to land me in hot water on more than one occasion so I bite my bottom lip and pretend like there aren’t any derogatory words flowing through my mind to describe their friend.
“Does his threat hold any merit? Am I going to have him show up on my doorstep one day? I have a job waiting for me that I’m supposed to report to in the next week and a half. ”
“Where?” Riptide asks, and it’s the first time I’ve heard an ounce of displeasure coming from him.
“Canton. It’s a small town in East Texas as a matter of fact. Didn’t you say you were from that area, Riptide?”
“Small world,” Indiana snickers and then releases an “oomph” once Zoey elbows him in the midsection. It was a direct hit, right in the eye of the target. “What? I didn’t say anything wrong. It’s a fact, not a derogatory comment, baby.”
“Don’t forget, I know you better than that, Indie,” Zoey snarks. “That was all you being a smartass and you know it. Don’t try and deny it because I’ll call you out on your bullshit.”
Rio comes up, grabs Issy who’s been a silent bystander by the hand, waves at my boy, nods at me, and hauls her away. “As if that wasn’t obvious,” Riptide teases.
“He’s been hitting the keg, he’s feeling adventurous,” Indiana laughs. “They have a house not too far away but I’d be willing to make a bet that they’ll hit the tack room in the barn since it’s closer.”
“Y’all gossip more than a group of busybody women,” Zoey berates them. “I swear, the men in your club could run a column.”
“I can see the headlines now… Dear Kings,” Indiana says, his hands splayed out to his sides as his eyes glaze over. “We could start some shit.”
Riptide glowers at Zoey and says, “Look what you started.”
“Me?” she points at herself and huffs. “That’s not my influence on him.”
“You’re the one who brought it up and gave him the idea for a gossip column,” Riptide chides. As my boy begins to whimper, as if it’s rehearsed and he’s done it a million times, Riptide reaches out, snatches him from my arms and begins bouncing him.
“Ugh,” I stammer, completely gobsmacked. “Riptide?”
“Yeah,” he answers, never turning in my direction.
“Never mind,” I grumble when my son puts his fist in his mouth, closes his eyes, and lays his head on Riptide’s muscular chest.
“Food’s up!” A man yells in the background and a rush of feet start stampeding that way.
“Go ahead and make you a plate, I’ve got little G,” Riptide says, steadily rocking his body from side to side and lulling my boy to sleep. “Trust me, you want to get in line now while there’s still plenty to choose from.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, twisting my hands together.
I’m not used to having any sort of help with Gagey.
My needs are always last because he’s my first priority considering he can’t fend for himself, so this is like the flip of a coin.
One I’m not sure what to do about. Is this normal?
Do men just snatch women’s kids from their arms and take charge?