Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
CREED
“S o, my parents tell me you're my biological father,” Gabriella says, looking up from her sketchpad.
The girl sitting across from me at the diner could be her mother’s mini-me, light gray eyes, wild curls that frame her face, and a confident expression that hasn’t so much as wavered.
“I am,” I say, leaning back in my seat at the diner.
It was a closed adoption, but with my contacts, it didn’t take much effort to find her. She was adopted by a couple, who, after some persuading , agreed to cooperate. And soon enough, they'll have no choice but to let me have her. But Gabriella has to choose.
“And you know my birth mother?” Gabriella takes a sip of her milkshake.
I nod.
“And you decided to show up now, because…” She starts drawing again, not maintaining eye contact.
“Because I was in prison for a really long time, kid, and now I’m back.”
She stops drawing and looks at me. From here I can see that it’s a rough outline of me.
“Did you kill someone?’
“Of course not. It’s a long story, but it wasn’t anything like that.”
“It’s illegal to hold my family hostage. You could go to prison again for that.” That stings. Mackenzie took away my right to be a father. She set me up without a thought, shoved a knife in my back the first chance she got, even after knowing I married her mother under duress. Now my daughter is calling some fucking banker, Dad.
“You’re not hostages.”
Gabriella rolls her eyes the same way Mackenzie used to. “You had us leave our home by lying that my mom and dad won a holiday. Then you kidnapped us and brought us to the middle of nowhere with bad guys at gunpoint.”
“When you put it like that, yeah, it was a fu- a bad move. But I swear, I just wanted to get to know you. That’s all. My shot got taken away from me and I’m here to make it right.”
She shuts her sketchpad. “Then you can start by telling your men to stop treating my parents like prisoners, and then we all can sit and talk like human beings.”
I grunt, folding my arms over my chest, feeling like I am being scolded.She has a point though.
“Do we have a deal?” She cocks her brow. How is this girl only eleven?
“Fine.”
I extend my hand and she takes it.
“Deal. I’ll call them off on one condition.”
“What’s that?” she asks, a wary expression clouding her features.
“Give me a chance. A real chance. Yeah, I’m an ex-convict but I was put away for a crime I didn’t commit. Like I said, I haven’t murdered anyone.”
“Yet,” she mutters.
I cock a brow. “Just say you’ll try.”
“We’ll see.”
* * *
Gabriella and her adoptive mother, Mia, make tacos while Michael, the banker, sits at the kitchen table watching them like a hawk. It’s their world and I am not welcome in it. Standing in the courtyard, watching them through the French doors, I feel like an outsider. It’s the same feeling I get every time they look at me. The ex-con, club owner, dealer…the list goes on. Fuck, my appearance alone has Mia frowning whenever I am near Gabriella. It wasn’t easy getting them here, not even my sprawling estate convinced them they aren't my prisoners, but the couple love Gabriella, that much is clear.
“Boss, seen Hell’s Knights sniffing around the club. You want us to do something about it?” Linc says joining me. He’s always up for a fight, and the last thing I want is a turf war.
“They’re free to look where they like, my friend. Just keep an eye on things.” His gaze moves in the direction of the family, now laughing about some inside joke.
“Sometimes it’s good enough to simply know, Boss. A kid doesn’t belong in our world.”
One sharp glance in his direction has him raising his hands in surrender. “I just mean, they got a good life, straight…you know.”
I used to have a good life. An honest man who worked an honest job and did all he could to keep his nose clean. Then I fell for the gorgeous girl with vulnerable eyes and that was my fucking undoing. Resisting her was impossible.
“Dinner’s ready!” Gabriella shouts, waving us over. “You too, Linc.”
He clears his throat. “This is where I draw the line.” He strolls off as I walk in the direction of my daughter. My daughter. Sometimes when she smiles, I see a resemblance between us. Her laughter is boisterous, but there’s a quiet contemplativeness about her, much like I was growing up.
The table is set, and she points to where I should sit. I slip in, my large frame settling awkwardly next to her.
“Grace,” she says and when I take her small hand in mine, my heart constricts and expands at the same time.
They chatter easily, much like a family should. Michael only glares at me occasionally.
Mia tries to politely include me in their conversation by telling me things about Gabriella growing up. I don’t miss the glances my girl gives me every now and then, as if trying to figure me out. I am still trying to do that, sweetheart.
Later, I’m standing out on the porch smoking when she approaches. She’s a tiny thing. She’s confident yet cautious, where Mackenzie is fire, but she’s her mother’s daughter, there is no doubt about that.
“When can I meet her?” Gabriella asks as if reading my mind.
“Who?” I ask.
“You know who,” she frowns.
“Soon.”
You keep saying that, but I want to meet her tomorrow.”
I cock a brow. “You don’t make the rules, little Picasso.”
She rolls her eyes at the nickname. “Neither do you. If you want to get to know me, my terms are that you do it peacefully, not holding my parents at gunpoint, and I want to meet her . If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, I’ll let it go, but I want the chance.”
I let out a groan. She’s Mackenzie’s kid all right. “I'll see what I can do. No promises.”
Gabriella nods and turns on her heels. “That’s bad for you. My grandma died when I was six, she had lung cancer,” she says.
I look down at the cigarette in my hand, drop it, then crush it under my boot.
The girl already has me eating from the palm of her hand.