Chapter 3
Tavi
The looming sign over the car garage could use a touch up, the fading sign looked like it could belong in a ghost town. Honestly, it probably would have been better than where I currently was. I knew Manny was okay with me leaving, but if Hardy found out…
Both me and Van would be locked up in our house. I needed to find a way out. Coming to a car garage was the only way I could get away with Van. He loved cars, so taking him with me to get him out of the house was the best bet.
They all do.
“Daddy!”
My eyes widened when I heard Van cry out in surprise. Fuck…Hardy wouldn’t come here? I had chosen a Shackled Sons business on purpose, so he’d leave me the fuck alone for a day. There’s no way.
Then again, Van had never called Hardy “Daddy”, and I had done that on purpose. He didn’t deserve the title. He was a glorified sperm donor, as far as I was concerned. I took off to where I’d heard his voice, only to see him kneeling in front of my son.
Oh god.
I didn’t know he worked here.
“Uh, baby, no, that’s not your daddy,” I said, laughing it off with the only man I’d fantasised about for years. “I’m so sorry.”
“Kid doesn’t know his dad?” he asked, his voice gruff, and annoyed. He had looked at Van with such affection, and he looked up at me with disdain. Did he recognise me?
“Not for lack of trying,” I lied. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d come in here. He loves cars.”
He looked down at my son again, and I felt my ovaries clench. Did that actually happen? Do our ovaries clench when your crush looks at your son with affection?
“What’s your name, kid?” he asked, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Van, and I am four-years-old.” His little hand came up to show him the four with his little fingers. I bit back a smirk.
“Wow,” he said. “That’s pretty old. I might need to start you working for me. Want to see under a car?”
Van’s eyes lit up. “I can do that?”
He looked back at me, for approval, and I nodded.
I watched as the only man I’d ever crushed on, took my son’s hand in his and led him further into the garage.
I took a seat by the window, watching as he interacted with the workers, who all revelled at having such a young kid marvel at what they did all day, and waited for my car to be done.
Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with it. I just needed to get out of the house.
“He’s safe with them if you need a break,” he said to me, once he’d come back in without Van. “I stuck him with one of the prospects. Might teach the kid to wrap it up when he’s with a woman.”
“Toddlers will definitely do that,” I said. “Thank you. I’m not much use when he asks me questions about cars. I know how to drive one, that’s about it.”
He nodded, appearing to blow me off, when I looked back out at my son holding a tool, while the man knelt beside him and showed him different things on the toolbox. He was going to be talking about this for weeks on end. At least it gave him something to obsess over.
I got up to go and grab one of their complimentary coffees, when I crashed right into a hard chest. He was right there. Standing over me, his eyes dark and unyielding.
“Sorry.”
His hand came up to brush my hair away from the side of my face. I knew what he was looking at. It’s why my hair was down today, even though the heat of Penrith was stifling.
“You want to give me the name of who put his hands on you?” he asked, his voice deep and dark.
“It’s nothing, I was…clumsy.”
That was the excuse my apparent husband used to tell people when he’d hit me to keep me quiet.
“I’ve heard that before,” he said, stepping back. “Said right before they return to their abusers and end up dying or with a needle out their arm to numb the pain.”
The thought was startling, and said to be mean. He thought I was protecting Hardy, and his abusive ways. I knew women did that, but it was out of fear, not because they loved the bastard.
“You can’t criticise me for my actions,” I said, angrily. “You’ve no idea what I do every day to protect my son, what I need to do to keep his father happy so I can…”
I almost outed myself. Almost. I couldn’t let anyone know my plans. Not even a Shackled Son. His expression lightened for a moment.
“If you need help, my club can protect you.”
“Not even you can protect me from them. My son is the only one I will ever bow down to.”
I made a move to go and grab Van. We could wait for the car across the street at the park, but he was too fast. He moved with purpose, before blocking me inside, turning me so my back was against the wall.
He crowded me against it. I could smell his masculine cologne, wrapping around me like a vice.
“I remember you,” he grunted. “And I know you remember me, too.”
Fuck.
“I’m not that same girl you claim to remember,” I issued, quickly, but I knew he saw through it. His smirk was panty-melting.
“Maybe you are, little rabbit,” he said in my ear. “You never came back to the clubhouse.”
Because I found out I was pregnant.
“Nothing happened between us.”
“It could have,” he said, his breath on my ear, causing my pussy to throb, and my thighs to quiver.
“You were called away before anything could happen,” I said, even though I was sure I was just one woman of many he’d wanted in his bed that night.
“You could have stayed for me.”
Fuck, I wish I had. I wish Van was his. I wish for so many things.
“I should go,” I said, pushing him away from me so I could breathe, so my body would stop betraying me.
“Did you come here because you knew I was here?” he asked. It was a valid question, but it wasn’t the reason.
“No,” I said. “I honestly didn’t know you worked here. I just need my car to get done so I can safely drive it.”
“Tavi,” he said my name and my stomach fluttered. How could he remember my name after all these years? “There’s nothing wrong with your car, and it’s not due for a service. Why’d you really come here?”
I didn’t answer, just made a move to go and grab my son. When his hand shot out, blocking my way, I looked into his eyes, wishing like hell I could tell him the truth. I wish he could be my knight in shining armour, but when he found out who I was…who I really was…he’d hate me.
“I’m going to find who hurt you, Tavi, and they’re going to regret ever laying a hand on you.”
The way my body hummed with approval was wrong on so many levels, and yet there was a part of me that wanted him to do it. I wanted him to protect me, my son, and to take out the only one who was threatening to tear my very existence to pieces.
“I can save myself, Maverick,” I said, with finality, before I ducked under his arm and made my way over to my son.
The way he’d called him Daddy, that sat in my veins like ice. Never did I think we’d run into him. Never did I think that when I’d showed Van photos of Maverick and told him that was his Dad, we’d ever bump into him.
Because I’d wished like hell he was. That night…that night he’d been called away before we could hook up…I’d gone home, to Hardy.
And then I’d fallen pregnant.
To the wrong man.