Chapter 7
Sutton
I was still feeling murderous towards that man, and I couldn’t calm down.
But what choice did I fucking have.
He wasn’t mine.
Even though I wanted him to be.
I just wanted to be the only woman with him.
So what could I do?
I knew a little bit about Irish’s past, but any time I’d pushed him on the subject, he had closed down on me.
And if reliving those memories would be hard for him, then I didn’t need to know.
I didn’t want him to hurt.
God, I was such a sucker for that man.
There he was, hurting me left and fucking right.
And here I was worrying about hurting him?
I needed to have my head examined, or at the very least, I needed to have someone operate and have my heart replaced with that of an uncaring and unfeeling bitch.
Perhaps switch mine with Cynnamin’s.
Yeah, that would definitely work.
I still hadn’t seen nor talked to Irish.
It’s been four days since that night.
I know he left to go do something for the club.
I shook my head, enough of this shit.
I had a jam-packed day with clients, and I needed to finish getting ready.
I was excited for today.
I was going to be giving Paisley’s mom a well-deserved makeover.
Just then, my phone rang, and when I saw it was Asher, I frowned.
I answered it just as I slipped my feet into my shoes, “Hello?”
“Sutton, I know you're pissed at Irish, but he needs you, honey.”
I froze, “What’s going on?”
“Come down to the front gate,” And with that, Asher hung up.
I frowned down at my phone as I lowered it from my ear.
I hurried through getting ready and then grabbed my bags, and headed out of my room, down the hall, and to the front door.
Once I opened it, my eyes scanned the courtyard.
And then my breath caught in my lungs.
There was a little girl in a pink flowery dress that I had seen in my dreams.
The hair.
The eyes.
The nose.
The lips.
The mouth.
Everything that was Irish.
Everything I had dreamed our child would look like.
But another bike pulled into the courtyard.
The rider atop it was one I hadn’t met before.
As I took in his kutte, I was able to make out the words Creature and Nomad . And he had on a Zagan MC kutte.
Almost as if I had conjured the man, he came roaring into the courtyard with Trigger hot on his heels.
My gaze shifted from him to the little girl, then back to Irish.
I watched as Asher walked over to him and said something.
Irish’s gaze whipped to the little girl, and then I watched as his body tensed.
Then I stood there, just as everyone else did, and watched as Irish climbed off his bike and walked slowly to the little girl.
Her eyes were wide as she took everyone in.
For some reason, her gorgeous gray eyes stilled on me for a split second longer than anyone else, and then they moved to Irish and watched him as he made it to her.
I watched as Irish knelt in front of the little girl.
They spoke for long minutes.
Then she handed him a white envelope.
He took it, opened it, and pulled out what looked to be a sheet of paper.
And I watched him read whatever was on that piece of paper.
It seemed he was finished, then his head turned, he surveyed everyone, and when his eyes came to me, he jerked his chin.
Yes, I was pissed the hell off at him, but no way in hell would I take it out on that precious little girl.
I was in her spot once; yes, I was older, but still, I had an inkling as to what she was going through.
When I made my way over to them, I knelt, and then Irish handed me a letter.
I took in his face before I took the letter and saw that the paper was slightly crinkled where he had held onto it and clenched it. The anger I could see sitting just below the surface. What shocked me was that he hadn’t already ripped the paper in half.
Taking it gingerly, I started to read,
‘Dear Irish, I’m sure you don’t remember me. Heck, I barely remember that night, but I know that I was with no one else a month before that night and a month after that night. Her name is Maisie April Smith. She was born on the seventh of December, two thousand and twenty. She weighed six pounds and nine ounces. My name is Kendra, by the way. I can’t care for her like I should, I’ve gotten in a spot of trouble. So, I am giving her to you. All the necessary forms are in her bag. I'm not sure if you remember the event or not, we were both plenty drunk. I would have wanted a repeat... but no woman wants to hear the man that’s currently inside of her say another woman’s name.’
Once I finished reading it, I looked at Irish and handed him the letter, “First thing, we need to get her into the clubhouse. She’s not dressed properly for this weather. Second thing, you need to find a house or an apartment. Third, I don’t think you need it, but you need a DNA test done.”
He looked at me, looking deeply into my eyes, and he whispered, “Will you help me?”
I took in a breath, looked at Maisie, then back at Irish, and nodded.
I smiled at Maisie, damn, but I loved that name, and said, “Hi, Maisie, my name is Sutton. What do you say about going inside where it’s warm and finding some milk and cookies?” I asked her as I handed her my hand.
She looked at it, then at everyone, and I could see the fear in her gray gaze. Therefore, I lowered my voice, “My favorite cartoon character is Minnie Mouse. Do you know who that is?”
Her eyes widened, and then she nodded.
“I want you to picture all the men in Minnie Mouse ears, a pink bow, and a fluffy pink skirt on them,” I told her, chuckling when she giggled.
And then... she placed her little hand in mine, and she didn’t know it yet, but the pieces of my heart that Irish hadn’t touched just became hers.
I stood then and led her inside, everyone following in our wake.
I looked at Gabby and asked, “Will you call the salon and send a text to my clients for me?”
Since she was the one to help me set up my calendar, she wouldn’t have any issues in doing so. She nodded, then took my phone that I had offered to her.
We were in the kitchen, and I had just lifted Maisie and settled her onto the counter.
I got out the milk and the package of cookies when Irish walked in, followed by Asher and Charlie.
Irish looked at Maisie as I got everything poured into glasses and the package of cookies opened.
“Can you tell me when your mommy dropped you off?” Irish asked her.
She shrugged, “I know she woke me up with a smile. She doesn’t do that a lot. Usually, she wakes me up by screaming at me.”
That. Fucking. Bitch.
“Okay, do you know how long it took you to get here?” he asked.
She shook her head, “No. But she didn’t want me to ever call her mommy. She had me call her Kendra.”
I gritted my teeth.
That. Fucking. Bitch.
To hide what I was thinking and feeling, I took a cookie, dabbed it in the milk, and then handed it to her.
She smiled, then took the cookie.
While we waited for the lawyer to show up and someone to perform the DNA test, I asked Maisie, “What’s your favorite meal?”
She smiled after taking another bite of cookie, “Mac N cheese.”
I gasped, “No way! That’s mine, too. What’s your favorite candy?”
She looked befuddled, then asked, “What’s that?”
I repeat. That. Fucking. Bitch.
I walked to the pantry, grabbed the candy dish that never seemed to get empty, and pulled out a Kit Kat bar.
I opened it and handed it to her, and then I took one for myself.
She took a bite, and then her eyes widened and smiled, then I laughed as she shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
A friend of the club came by and performed a DNA test, and since this was a timely manner, she put a rush on it.
The club's lawyer also came by, looked at the documentation, and nodded.
“I’ll get this before the judge and let him know a DNA test has been performed. In the meantime, you need to get her everything she needs.”
I nodded at him and then looked at Irish, “I need your credit card.”
He opened his wallet and handed it to me.
Then I looked at Maisie, “Okay, sweet girl. What’s your favorite color?”
She smiled and said, “Pink.”
I winked at her and whispered, “Mine too.”
I left her with Irish and the guys, and then me and the girls went to Target and got her everything she would need but bedding and furniture.
And since she seemed to cling to me, she was in my room at the clubhouse most of the time.
Then, four days later, the results revealed what was blatantly obvious.
Four days after that, myself, along with Gabby, Adeline, Lizette, Stella, and Chloe, bought everything that Irish would need for his house.
And we got things that would make any little girl happy.
Irish and I still haven’t talked about things.
Between reworking my hours so I could be with Maisie and his club responsibilities on top of those at the garage, I ended up on the couch at his new house.
And it was stunning.
He was able to get one of the newly built houses with all the amenities they had to offer. It was a dark blue in color with light-washed accents. I loved it. I truly did.
If I had seen this house before he bought it, I would have championed it.
It had a nice front yard. And a backyard that was fenced in.
And yes, I know what you're thinking. Why would I agree to help Irish after everything... simple.
Because that little girl was neglected and thrown away as if she were nothing but trash.
And I wouldn’t, no, I refused to treat her that same way.