Chapter 10 #3
Leveling me with a more serious stare, she continues, “I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m gonna give it to you anyway.
You’re seriously worrying about all the wrong things if you think you’re putting Slate in danger.
What you’re really not understanding in this situation is that Slate is the dangerous one.
They should be wary of provoking him, not the other way around. ”
I blink at her, trying to wrap my head around what she’s saying.
She continues, “My sons are tough as nails, and too damn smart for their own good at times. They operate as a unit and can raise a private army within minutes simply by calling on our affiliate and allied clubs. Which is exactly why wearing his property cut should be a warning to anyone with two brain cells to rub together.”
“But the man who’s been stalking me said he was going to blow the clubhouse up.”
“And how would he manage that? We built that thick wall around the clubhouse to create an impenetrable compound. We have prospects guarding the gate at all times, brothers patrolling the grounds in shifts, and drones in the sky.”
“All because of the trouble I brought to your doorstep,” I say bitterly.
For the first time, Queenie’s voice turns irritated.
“No. That was all in place long before you and Slate even met. You act like you’re the only woman who was ever in danger.
Rock pulled me out of a religious cult back in the day.
They didn’t appreciate one of their women getting away and hassled us for years.
That’s part of the reason we built this compound the way we did—to protect me and anyone else needing sanctuary.
We’ve got a brother living here we rescued from a Mexican cartel.
You’re not the only one who ever brought danger to our doorstep, and you won’t be the last. So let go of all that guilt and help us keep you and your daughter safe. ”
I nod again, finally getting what she’s laying down. “I’ll do it,” I whisper. “I promise. I just need a moment to do it the right way.”
Her face brightens. “Perfect moments are rare around here. Maybe instead of worrying about how to engineer the perfect moment, you can just focus on the happy family you’ll be making with him.”
Across the room, I hear Katie’s small laugh, and something inside me begins to crumble.
“He just told me that he loved me for the first time.” I don’t talk about the fabulous sex we had because who does that?
Instead, I focus on my biggest worry. “Telling him is going to piss him off. What if telling him changes things between us? What if it ends any hope of having that happy family you mentioned?”
There’s no judgment when she looks at me.
Instead, I see only compassion and a little sadness.
“You can’t build a happy family on lies, honey.
Slate’s a good man. You wronged him by not telling him that he’s Katie’s father.
You’re just gonna have to trust him to understand your reasoning and ask for his forgiveness. ”
Deep down inside, I know she’s right. This isn’t just about Slate anymore.
It’s about family—about belonging to something bigger than ourselves.
Being with people who do the right thing and that don’t shy away from danger or truth telling.
I need to prove myself worthy of being part of this family and I do that by being honest.
Letting out a shaky breath, I nod. The conversation is cut short when Katie comes running over telling me all about the puppies she was playing with earlier.
I’ve come to realize that my little daughter is absolutely puppy crazy.
I pick her up and hold her in my lap as she tells me all the puppies’ names and what colors they are.
***
Hours crawl by, and I eventually pick at the plate of food Tessa presses into my hands. All my deepest, darkest secrets are spilling out, and I need to buck up and handle the repercussions like an adult.
Finally, there’s a knock at the door. It’s sharp and solid—two quick raps followed by a familiar voice calling through the door. It’s one of the prospects. “You can come out now. Prez says it was just some attempt to scare us into giving up Slate’s old lady.”
I follow Queenie to the door and help her remove the large metal bar she put across it as an extra measure of defense. Right before we lift it from its bracket, she turns her head to look at me. “See?” she says softly. “Told you my boys can handle any threat.”
I shoot her a relieved grin. “They’re more than just handsome faces, right?”
She rolls her eyes and deadpans back, “I wasn’t gonna say it because it sounds too much like bragging, but me and Rock do make strong, handsome sons.”
Tessa lands between us and puts her hands on the metal bar as well. “That’s not bragging. It’s just a simple statement of fact.”
Getting caught up in the moment with them, I laugh as we lift the heavy bar together and set it aside.
I grab my daughter, hold her close, and follow Queenie and Tessa upstairs.
Before we go our separate ways, Queenie touches my shoulder.
When she speaks, her voice is low enough for only me to hear. “Don’t wait too long.”
“Of course. Thanks for the pep talk.”
Shifting Katie to one hip, I head up to Slate’s suite.
I want to wash Katie’s sticky fingers and put her down for a nap.
I’ve just about accomplished that when Slate comes stalking into the main room.
I know it’s him because of the way he walks and the way he kicks the door shut behind him.
The bedroom door creaks open, and he comes in to see Katie.
We’re sitting on opposite sides of the bed, and it’s almost like she can’t decide who to pay attention to because I’m her mom and Slate is one of her favorite people.
His hand reaches inside his cut, and he comes out with a tiny stuffed dog with a loop on the back of its neck. It looks like it might have once been attached to a keychain. “I brought you something.” Holding it up in front of her face, he wiggles it in midair. “Do you like it?”
Katie reaches for it with both hands, and he pretends like it’s walking into her hands by tilting it back and forth. “Watch me run to my new friend,” he says. Only his big, rough biker voice has been replaced with a childlike voice as he pretends to be the stuffed puppy.
I have to hold my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing at his antics. Katie loves everything about this moment.
“You can pretend it’s real. That’s almost as fun as having a real puppy because I’m not sure your mommy would let you have one.”
She cuddles the soft, stuffed puppy to her neck, clearly adoring it. But she says stubbornly, “Want a real one.”
Slate smooths down her hair and responds, “Maybe for your birthday, when you’re a big girl. You’re gonna be three next year, right?”
I freeze in place because my daughter is about to tell him before I can even get the chance.
Her hand shoots up, and she holds up four fingers. “I’m gonna be four.”
Slate freezes in place, and I can almost see him doing the calculation in his head. He reaches to wrap a lock of her long dark hair around one finger and gazes into her light blue eyes. “You’re going to be four? What month were you born?”
She smiles at him, totally innocent of what she’s saying. “Birthday is when cake comes.”
I look everywhere except at the man I love.