“You father? What the fuck does he have to do with this? You been running your mouth to him again behind my back?”
“No. But if I want to talk about our marriage with my father I can. You don’t control me, James.”
“That’s the truest thing to ever leave your mouth. Why would I want to have another baby with you when I can barely stand the sight of you? You weren’t always such a miserable controlling cunt.”
“Take it back.”
“Or what?”
“Don’t push me. You won’t like it when I push back. Remember that.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and storms off.
She forgets that if I go down so does she.
Fucking hell I didn’t see this coming. I scrub a palm over my face and tug on my beard. Another kid. Over my dead body will I have a son. I’m not tainting my bloodline with any more of Lion’s DNA. It’s a wonder Rochelle is a good kid. With Ruthie as her mother and my sorry ass for a father it’s a motherfucking miracle she isn’t as fucked up as the rest of us.
Chapter Thirteen
“Looks like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Papa pulls out the chair next to me.
“Just got a lot of shit on my mind.”
“This don’t have anything to do with Rochelle and Colter does it?”
“Naw. I’m not stressing that. I know he’ll treat my girl right. He has you for a father.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He takes a hard pull off his longneck beer.
“You should. He’s a handsome little fucker too.”
“He does look like me, don’t he?”
“Fuck he’s a spitting image, man. Except for that white in your hair.” I chuckle and he shakes his head. Papa got his name for his looks. Namely his hair. Going white at his temples and a few other spots like an old man. “You should be proud.”
“I am. We may be in-laws one day.”
“Slow down. Rochelle ain’t getting married anytime soon.”
“Keep telling yourself that. What’s got you looking ready to shoot the clubhouse up?”
“Ruthie wants another kid.”
“And you don’t?”
“Hell no. Having Rochelle is plenty. I’m not ready to go back to sleepless nights and diapers. Long past that stage in life.”
“I can understand that. Sometimes though I think it’d be nice to go back. Shit was a lot less complicated back then.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I mutter and finish off my beer.
“Need another?” Kristen nabs my empty bottle.
“No thanks, darlin’. I’m about to ride out, but I’m sure Papa here could use some company.” I push my chair back as she drops into his lap.
“Later, brother.”
“I’ll see you at the wedding.” His head falls back, and he howls with laughter.
“Fuck off,” I grumble and shove a cigarette between my lips.
“Who’s getting married?’ I hear Kristen ask as I walk out.
Asshole thinks he’s real funny. That shit ain’t nothing to joke about. I’ve decided I’m locking Rochelle in her room till she’s thirty.
Rolling up to the house, I’m not ready to have Ruthie and Alexa under the same roof, but don’t have much of a choice. I park my motorcycle in the garage. Walking into the house I hear giggles coming from the kitchen.
Fuck. I shoulda stayed at the clubhouse tonight. Anywhere else but here.
“We’re in the kitchen, James,” Ruthie calls out.
I stomp into the room, relief washing over me when I see it’s only my wife and daughter sitting at the counter eating the left-over cupcakes.
“I see you made it home in one piece.” I rub my palm over the top of Rochelle’s hair, scuffing it up.
“Ugh, Dad,” she whines.
“You have a good time on your date?”
“Our little girl is growing up. Had her first real kiss tonight.”
“I don’t need to hear that shit.”
“Whatever.” Rochelle rolls her eyes. “Do you want a cupcake?”
“I’m good. Alexa not staying over?”
“She’s here. I think she’s taking a shower or getting ready for bed.”
“Right. You girls don’t stay up too late.”
“We won’t.”
Ruthie shadows me to our bedroom and closes the door. “Did you think about what I said?”
“Nothing to think about.”
“I want a baby.”
“Ask your boyfriend then.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what exactly? Reasonable. An adult. You think another kid will magically fix this?” I shrug my shirt over the back of my head and toss it into a nearby hamper.
“I don’t know but don’t we owe it to ourselves to try? To my father to carry on the family.”
“I’m not fighting with you about this.” I kick my jeans off and grab my pillow off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to the couch.”
“Rochelle has a friend over.”
“And?”
“I don’t want her gossiping at school that Rochelle’s dad sleeps on the couch.”
“Who gives a fuck about what some school kids think?”
“I do. It’ll get back to the other cheer moms.”
“You’re fucking ridiculous you know that.” I shake my head and go to the living room, grabbing a spare blanket from the hall closet as I go. Flopping down on the couch, I grab the remote and turn some action movie on. I toss and turn until about two in the morning when I hear someone in the kitchen. I peer over the back of the couch and see Alexa standing in front of the sink. Her blonde locks hang down her back and the pale green shorts she’s wearing hug her ass. I should roll back over and pretend to be asleep, but find my feet carrying me to the kitchen because I’m a damn glutton for punishment.
“Can’t sleep?” Alexa jumps at the sound of my voice and turns to face me. Tears rolling down her cheeks. On reflex I go to her, wrapping my arms around her, pressing her head into my chest.
She gazes up at me. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this but being back here... Brings the nightmares back.”
“It’s okay.” I kiss her forehead, and she tilts her head up more, her lips calling to mine like a damn siren calling to a sailor at sea. “Is
