9. Pez
Pez
I’ve not spoken to or seen Daphne in two months.
It’s been a living fucking hell. I only go when I know she’s working.
I visit with Mrs. Grayson and Cammie, then head home before Daphne gets off work.
I’ll admit that I’ve driven by the bakery just to get a glance of her, but I never went in.
I’m just not ready to face her. I need to find a way to bottle up the emotion before I face her again.
So, I send the other men to check on her, make sure her lawn is mowed and shit.
They report back to me if they see anything she needs—or asks about me.
She hasn’t.
I also check in with Eagle to see how her court case is going pretty regularly.
There’s a custody hearing coming up in two weeks.
I have to swallow enough of my pride. I need to quit being a damn coward because I will have to face her tomorrow.
I’m being stupid, but fuck, it hurt that she basically told me she didn’t want me helping her and doing shit for her.
In my defense, there’s only so many times you can hear the woman you love call you her friend.
I actually have a couple of prospects there today cleaning around her house and helping her set up for Cammie’s birthday party tomorrow.
I know she’s nervous about it, because Eagle told me that Dane and his new bitch will be dropping by.
I need to find something on that son of a bitch, so he leaves Daphne and her daughter alone.
He’s slimy as fuck, so I have no doubt there are skeletons buried in his damn closet.
I just need to find out how to uncover them.
Currently, I’m trying to resist the urge to kill Daphne’s dipshit dad.
I’m not sure what his damage is but burying it in a bottle when his daughter is facing a custody hearing is not alright with me.
I’m trying not to air his dirty laundry because there’s a few prospects around here, along with Apex.
We also have a visitor from the Kings of Anarchy—Candyman.
I don’t want him to see our issues, but I can’t keep holding my damn mouth either.
I’m going to beat some damn sense into this asshole or kill him.
Those are the only options that seem to be available to me.
“Sabre, man. Why don’t we go and get some dinner?” I suggest. Candyman’s face is making it clear he’s worried about the way the son-of-a-bitch is burying himself in a bottle, too.
“I’m good,” Sabre slurs.
“Man, you are supposed to go to Daphne’s tomorrow for little Cammie’s birthday party. You show up with a hangover and she will have your ass.”
“I’m not going to go,” Sabre says, not bothering to look up from his drink. My hand shakes with the need to slap the asshole.
“Bullshit. You’re going if I have to drag you there myself. Cammie loves her papaw, and you will not break that little girl’s heart,” I bark.
“Since when did you get so close to my family?” Sabre asks, annoyed as fuck.
“Drew asked me to check in on them,” I reply, feeling heat gather on the base of my neck. I can feel eyes on me, and I don’t like it.
“What the fuck for? That’s not your place,” Sabre barks.
“The only other person he could ask would be you, and Drew didn’t figure your head was out of your ass enough to ask.”
“Daphne’s married. She and Cammie are fine. I didn’t like her marrying that asshole, but he’s been good to her and Cammie. He’s spoiled them both rotten.”
“That asshole isn’t doing shit for them. You really need to get your head out of your ass,” I growl, completely disgusted.
“You need to tell me whatever the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and call Drew. You and Annie might be done, but you still have a family, asshole—a good one. Get your shit together before you really do lose everything,” I demand, before stomping off.
“Wait up, motherfucker. You and I are going to talk,” I hear Sabre say, but honest-to-God, I can’t talk anymore with him right now.
I’ll wake his hungover ass up early in the morning and make sure he’s ready to head to the party with me.
We can talk then. Jesus, I could really use having Daphne around me right now.
She calms me. I don’t have her, and I can’t—at least not like I want to.
I need to realize that and quit dreaming for the impossible.
With that thought I head out to my bike.
Maybe the feel of the wind and fresh air on my face will help to calm me. It sure as hell can’t hurt.