Soul
My hair is still dripping wet when I walk through the door.
I showered in my room at the clubhouse so Emery wouldn’t see me covered in blood, but then I rode straight here, unable to handle being away from them any longer.
I’ve been tied up with the club since she arrived, and the distance is wearing on me.
Sure, I could have called her earlier. Or texted to check in. But the last thing I want is Emery feeling suffocated when her uncle didn’t allow her any freedom.
I refuse to be one more person in her life who strips her of her personal space or choices. Which is why I’ve given her space to get settled, no matter how much it wears on me not knowing how she and Charlie are doing twenty-four seven.
At least the girls came by today to help out. They assured my brothers that Emery was fine, and I let that be enough to get me through the afternoon.
Still, nothing is like walking through the doors and seeing it for myself. Inhaling her sweet scent and following it through the house in search of her.
Oranges and cloves.
Comfort and warmth coursing through my veins like a drug.
A hint of home in a house that has never felt like one.
Apart from the monthly housekeeper visit, there’s no life here.
No good memories, just things I’d like to bury in a cement grave.
So when I step inside and see every surface dusted.
Blankets washed and folded on the couch.
Lights on in rooms that have been bathed in shadows for as long as my father has been gone, my chest tightens.
And when I turn the corner and find Emery asleep in a chair with Charlie in her arms, I can hardly breathe.
I spent ten months looking for her. Ten months scouring every street in this city. Now here she is, holding my daughter and putting this puzzle piece back that’s been missing since I woke up alone in a hotel room.
The floorboard creaks beneath my boot when I take a step into the room, and Emery’s eyes fly open. She tightens her hold on Charlie, turning as if she’s shielding her from whoever might be approaching. The fear in her eyes is real, stopping me in place.
It’s more than fear—it’s a bolt of terror.
Zane is going to pay for every second he and his men made her feel unsafe.
“It’s just me.” I tuck my hands into my pockets, shifting back a step to assure her that I’m not a threat.
Emery checks me from head to toe, her shoulders relaxing.
“Sorry I woke you up.”
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She lifts out of the chair with Charlie barely stirring in her arms. “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept this well. Something about this place—”
She cuts herself off, her eyes darting up to me like she didn’t mean to say that. Like she’s worried what I might think of her getting comfortable here.
If only she knew how much I fucking love it. That it sets me at ease. I’ve never cared about the danger I put myself in on a daily basis. But as Emery rocks Charlie in her arms, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep them safe.
Charlie’s face scrunches for a second like she might cry, but she doesn’t.
“Just a dream.” Emery rubs her finger down the bridge of Charlie’s nose, and her face relaxes. “There you go.”
Emery’s gaze shifts to me, and I realize I’ve taken a step closer. I can’t help it. Charlie is so small. So perfect.
A bundle of good when I thought I was only capable of making shit bad.
Here she is, defying the fates.
My daughter.
“Do you want to hold her?” Emery asks.
My heart hammers as she lifts Charlie higher. It’s such a simple question that isn’t simple at all. The only babies I’ve held were Steel and Legacy’s, and that was only for a second. There wasn’t this fear attached to it.
What if I’m not enough for her?
What will my world do to her?
I shove those doubts down.
“Are you sure?” I swallow hard, my throat burning.
Emery’s blue eyes blink up at me. “You’re her father, Hayes. Of course I’m sure. I trust you.”
She probably shouldn’t. Not with the things I’ve done. The hell I’ve raised. Just an hour ago, these hands were painted in blood. Now they shake as Emery adjusts Charlie, preparing to hand me all that’s sweet and pure in the world.
Nothing rattles me. Nothing throws me off my game.
Not until Emery places my baby girl in my arms, and I can hardly breathe.
Wetness pooling in the corners of my eyes.
I didn’t even cry at my mother’s funeral.
But looking down at this small person who has my nose and eyes—my mother’s eyes—the world slips out from under me.
“See.” Emery smiles, brushing Charlie’s dark hair while I rock her in my arms. “She likes you already.”
“That’s because she’s sleeping.” I smile, and Emery rolls her eyes.
All sass and beauty.
It’s the first hint of the fiery girl I remember meeting on New Year’s, and I want more of that. Her spark. Her free spirit. I want to see Emery brimming with life again.
“Charlie usually doesn’t sleep well with anyone but me.
” Emery’s smile falters. “My uncle tried to bring in a night nurse in the beginning, but she just cried and cried until I went to her. I think even at that age, she sensed something was wrong—that being there was no good for us. It wasn’t home. ”
“You’re home now,” I promise, no matter the ghosts rattling these walls around me.
She presses her lips together, meeting my gaze. Tears brim in her eyes, but she hesitates to respond. Like she doesn’t trust this yet. She doesn’t trust me yet, no matter what she said. I understand, even if I plan on proving to her that she can.
Charlie stirs, and I look down to see her nuzzling against me.
“We should probably put her to bed,” Emery says. “The girls brought a crib earlier. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“I figured you might need a few things, and they know more about that stuff than I do, so I’m glad they were helpful.”
“They were. And they were nice.”
“You say that like it’s surprising.”
“I guess it was a little surprising.” She chews her lower lip. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had friends. Not that that’s what they are. But they treated me like one anyway. I didn’t realize so many kids lived on the compound.”
“There are more than you met today.” I chuckle. “The older ones were in school.”
“It’s not what I expected after… well… the clubhouse.”
“Yeah, not our finest moment.” I sway as Charlie starts to stir. “Most of the ranked guys have settled down, gotten married, started families. But a lot of the other members are still single, so patching-in parties can get a little wild.”
“And you…” She scans my face, pausing on my mouth for a breath before shaking her head. “Never mind.”
“Nah, say it. What were you going to ask?”
Emery shifts on her feet. “What category do you fall into? The taken guys or the single ones?”
I can’t help the smile that climbs at that little flare of jealousy because that’s how I felt the second she told me her uncle was marrying her to someone else. I was ready to force her to get divorced and find the guy so I could skin him alive.
Still, she stands here asking if I’m taken or single? She doesn’t see that with one kiss she took everything.
“There’s no one but you,” I tell her.
It’s a little bold and puts all my cards on the table, but I’ve never been the kind of guy who doesn’t go all in. I bet the house and deal with the consequences later. With my daughter in my arms and Emery standing in front of me, I’m betting to win.
Emery bites back a smile, dropping her chin like she thinks that will hide her blush. “Good.”
Charlie’s face scrunches again, but it doesn’t soothe this time. She wiggles around and then bursts into tears.
“Oh, shit. Did I do something wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything.” Emery’s tone is calm and reassuring—the opposite of mine. She reaches for Charlie, humming as she takes her in her arms. “Our conversation is probably just waking her up. I’m going to put her to bed.”
My eyes don’t leave them the entire time Emery walks up the stairs. When she reaches the top, she must feel me staring because she glances down, biting back a smile as she turns the corner into Charlie’s room.
I hang my cut by the front door and strip off my boots, but I’m still wired from today and starving, so I head into the kitchen. It’s late, so I expect Emery to go to bed herself, but she meets me in the kitchen after putting Charlie down, slipping onto a barstool.
“You hungry?” I tilt the pan so she can get a look at the eggs I’m cooking.
“Starving. I was so tired I fell asleep before I could make dinner.”
“Well, this isn’t anything special. Eggs in a tortilla. I don’t think we have cheese, but we might have some hot sauce. I’ll have some groceries delivered tomorrow if you want to make a list of your favorites.”
“Hot sauce is perfect.”
I glance over my shoulder, expecting her to be joking. But she’s not even watching me. Her eyes move around the room, like she’s seeing something I’m not. It’s spotless from her cleaning earlier, but it’s still the same beat-up furniture and faded wallpaper I grew up with.
“It could use updating,” I say when her gaze pauses on the scratched kitchen table.
“It’s cozy.” She shrugs.
“You mean old and worn down?”
“I mean lived in. My uncle had a house… a couple of them actually. But even though they were spotless, they never felt like anyone lived there. Even my room was immaculate. The second I took anything out, his staff would sweep through and pick it up. We didn’t have scratches on tables or pictures on walls or memories. ”
“I wish there weren’t so many memories here.”
She frowns, following my gaze around the room, and I’m glad she’s not seeing what I am.
I’m glad she doesn’t know the grooves in the kitchen table are from when my dad would get drunk and have me plant my hand on it so he could jab his knife between my fingers as fast as he could.
Even wasted, he was good at it, so he only stabbed me a couple of times, but it hurt like hell when he did.
She doesn’t see that the broken corner of the countertop is where Mom smashed a pan over it after catching my dad fucking a patch bunny in his room at the clubhouse.
She doesn’t see all the reasons I’ll never be good enough for her because of who I came from, and maybe that’s a good thing right now.
When the eggs are done, I split them between our tortillas and hand her a plate.
On her first bite, she moans, and that sound sends blood rushing south.
I’ve never been one to have any particular kinks.
People think I’m an exhibitionist because I don’t mind fucking in public, but that’s more a matter of convenience than desire.
Watching Emery’s eyes light up as she chews has me thinking I do have a kink; I’ve only just now discovered it.
Making her happy, seeing her smile, taking care of her—I could get lost in that.
“It’s so good.” She moans around the next bite, and it’s nearly impossible to focus on my food.
I might as well be swallowing dust as I take a bite because it’s nothing compared to the taste of her.
“Glad you like it.” I clear my throat, trying to focus. “Thanks for cleaning up the house. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I don’t mind.” She shrugs, looking around. “It kept me busy.”
I take another bite, watching her from the corner of my eye. A lock of her dark hair falls from her bun, grazing her cheek. Brushing over those freckles that kept me up at night when I was searching for her. I couldn’t remember the exact pattern, and it drove me out of my mind.
Constellations she wears on her cheeks.
Wishing stars sparkling in her eyes.
“You’re staring.” She smiles, not looking at me.
“You’re beautiful.”
That snags her attention; her blue eyes slide my way. “You’re not shy about saying what’s on your mind.”
“It’s not something I haven’t told you before.” I shrug, and her blush deepens.
“This is odd, right?” Her lower lip pulls between her teeth. “We’re strangers, but also… not.”
“You’re not a stranger to me.”
“You barely know anything about me.”
“I know a few things.” My eyes slide down, and her skin flushes.
“I’m not talking about sexually.” Her cheeks turn bright red for a whole different reason, and it’s fucking adorable.
“Obviously, we’re not strangers in the bedroom.
Charlie is proof of that. But I’m talking about everything else.
We didn’t exactly talk much that first night.
We barely shared anything with each other. ”
“Like last names.”
Her nose scrunches. “I wasn’t purposefully being deceptive. When people find out my last name is Zane, they look at me differently. That kind of thing happens when it’s on the biggest casino downtown. But I swear I didn’t keep it from you because I knew about your club’s issues with my uncle.”
“I know.” I really do. “And I understand what it’s like for people to assume shit. People see my patch, and they think a lot of things without really knowing anything about me.”
“I feel like I don’t know anything about you,” she says, biting her lip.
“What do you want to know?”
Emery turns toward me, her eyebrows pinching. “What’s your last name?”
“Roman.”
“Hayes Roman,” she repeats, and there’s something about hearing my legal name on her lips that is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.
Maybe I have quite a few kinks, but they all revolve around Emery.
It’s like New Year’s when she stripped by the pool, and I might as well have never seen anyone naked before her because she woke me up from a dream.
“Charlotte Roman,” she says, and my smile falls. “Maybe someday we can update her birth certificate and give her your name?”
The pride in her tone smacks me in the chest.
Charlotte Roman.
I love the sound of that name as much as I love the idea of Emery Roman. But it doesn’t stop the wave of terror that slams through me. My father gave me that name, and look what came from that.