Page 21 of Blue-Eyed Jacks (Destroyers MC: Skilletsville PA #1)

Kate

T he drone of tires on asphalt and the puttering of the engine slowed.

The trip started with good intentions, watching Zoe carefully, monitoring her speed and her distance, making sure she wasn’t swerving or not in control.

But when she proved herself as not only a cautious driver but a steady one, my apprehension faded.

With it, my ability to stay awake. I hadn’t been the passenger in so long that the lack of vigilance lulled me into much-needed rest.

“Where are we?”

“Getting gas.” Zoe pulled up to the pump and maybe hit the brakes a little harder than I would, but otherwise, she handled the entire event well. “I’ll go in and pay.” She held out her hand.

I dug into the petty cash that was dwindling too quickly. We’d have to go to ground soon or risk running out. As I handed it off, I blinked to clear the fuzziness out of my eyes.

A sign in the distance marked the fast-food restaurant down the double-lane highway.

I squinted because there was a large road sign indicating a major highway.

And it was too familiar. I got out of the car so I could see better and immediately knew my competent daughter was too damn competent.

She came out of the store with a receipt in hand.

“Here.” She handed it off and began pumping gas. We’d need that full tank of gas to get as far away from this place as possible.

I waited until she returned the spout to its cradle. “Keys.”

“I got it, Mom.”

“We’re in Pennsylvania.” The keystone circling the highway number gave it away.

One shoulder went up, and I waited for her to match it to the “So?” in her eyes. But she didn’t say it. Instead, she squared up.

When did she get taller than me?

“We’re going to Dad, and if you throw a fit, I’m going to toss one right back.” She motioned to the busy station.

Under my breath, I hissed out, “Do you know how dangerous this is?” To punctuate my warning, a motorcycle roared past. I didn’t dare look because I’d truly freak out if I saw Destroyers colors on their back. Fit or not, Zoe and I were leaving this goddamned state as fast as possible. “Keys.”

“No.” She pushed the lock button on the car.

Its chirp caught the attention of the guy pumping gas on the next island over.

He smiled and did a little head nod, then continued filling his truck as if my daughter and I weren’t having a standoff in the middle of the lot.

However, I couldn’t count on that if Zoe started a true tirade.

She’d fooled me earlier, and I had no doubt she could fool complete strangers into doing her bidding.

“Let’s talk in the car.” I motioned for her to unlock it again.

“No.”

“Zoe.”

She shook her head and started for the store instead. God knows what she’d say to the clerk in there, so I followed her to mitigate the damage as much as I could.

And caught her with my prepaid cell phone to her ear. “What are you doing?”

“Calling Dad.”

“You don’t have his number.”

She glared at me. The clerk looked conflicted.

“Is everything alright?”

“She’s being stubborn,” I said.

“So are you,” Zoe shot back.

I prepared to fire something back, but the call went through, and Zoe started talking. “James Campbell Nist. They call him Jackson.”

In the pause, I marveled in utter horror and amazement at my daughter’s resourcefulness. I’d never uttered Jackson’s real name. How in the hell had she found that out?

She tapped her foot and raised that eyebrow at me. I shook my head back at her.

“Hey… yeah, you got her.”

If I hadn’t glared at her, I might have missed it.

The water in her eyes as she teared up. Pain clutched my heart.

What if he rejected her? How would she ever recover?

I’d been an idiot to build him up to be some sort of savior when, in truth, he was just another asshole biker.

Now she was paying the price for my stupidity.

Zoe turned her back on me and mumbled our location. “Yeah, we will.”

She ended the call and wiped her eyes, still trying to hide the tears from me. I put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffed. “For what?”

“Everything? I love you.”

“I know.”

I squeezed her tightly. “Pick whatever you want, then we’ll get on the road again.”

“We’re not leaving.”

What? “I… I’m sorry, why?”

“Because Dad’s going to be here in twenty minutes, and if we’re not here, he said he’d tear Hell apart to find us.”

Holy shit. I wanted to be cautious, but my heart leaped out of my chest and was dancing with glee. He cared? He wanted us back? Or was he possessive like Shock? The elation I felt was mixed with terror. “I hope that’s not a trick.”

Her eyes met mine. “It won’t be.”

Oh, Zoe. My heart went out to her. So young, so hopeful. “Let’s please be careful, okay? I can’t lose you. And I don’t want to see you hurt.” And I had an intimate understanding of how much it hurt when he was gone.

Too soon, a distinctive rumble of multiple motorcycles made the cashier crane her neck out the windows to see what the thunder brought her way.

The nervous way she emptied the till made me check the clock on the phone Zoe relinquished.

It hadn’t been twenty minutes. And from the rapid approach, either the whole pack broke the sound barrier, or it wasn’t Jackson.

I grabbed Zoe and pulled her away from the window. “Go to the back, find an emergency exit. Now!”

“It’s probably him.”

“If it isn’t, I need you gone, got it? Don’t talk to anyone, not the cops, not a stranger, and definitely not a biker.” I pressed the phone into her hands. “Call John if we get separated; he’ll figure something out.”

I hoped like hell there wasn’t a way to track a prepaid phone, but I’d been away from the realm of criminals for so long that I had no idea anymore. Zoe hit my back, giving me a crushing hug, then followed orders and hid out in the back hallway. The cashier saw it, met my eyes, and nodded.

Four bikes pulled in almost simultaneously, and at least seven followed. There was a range of machines, from shiny to one that barely looked road-worthy. Every single rider wore face masks or full helmets.

The Destroyers Skull on their back was unmistakable.

The sight of it made my legs shake. I’d only known that ugly logo in terror.

I swallowed and stood my ground near the door.

I was ready to bolt if needed, but if it was Shock, my running was done.

I’d gladly step back into his deadly clutches if it meant Zoe was out there, free.

A straggler driving a van joined the group, bringing the total up to twelve.

The lead rider barely acknowledged the final member, opting instead to swiftly park the bike and, oh my God , pull out a gun.

He didn’t even bother to take off the mask or wait for the mohawked monster at his side.

But I took a small comfort in not recognizing the soldier flanking the leader.

Despite being almost as large as BamBam, he carried it differently.

More in the shoulders and in raw power than a quarter ton of weight.

And the leader was most definitely not Shock.

He was too lean, too tall, and despite the ambiguity of not seeing his full face, I recognized that body and that walk.

I burst out of the station, motioning behind me to indicate to Zoe that it was him.

Jackson had come for her. I screeched to a halt, realizing that he might be angry with me. And that gun was dangerously visible.

“Is that her?” His Sergeant-at-Arms’ name tag read, “Bear.” He pulled off his riding goggles and scanned me from head to toe, but not in a lecherous manner, more like he was searching for threats, weapons, or anything that marked me as a danger to his president. I held out my hands.

“Jackson.” I could hardly meet his eyes. Those piercingly familiar eyes Zoe inherited narrowed.

“Where is she?”

I sucked in a breath and braced. I was a fool to think we meant anything to each other anymore. “Inside.”

To prove me wrong, the door at my back swung open, and Zoe raced past me too quick to catch. “Daddy!” She hit his chest and bounced as he stepped back, both arms out.

My heart hit the pavement. He wasn’t hugging her back. And in that brief moment, I wanted to grab that gun out of his hand and kill him.

“Bear, take this.” He held the weapon out stiffly.

Zoe’s arms dropped to her sides, and she took a step back to look at her father. “Dad?”

Jackson’s jaw worked, but no words came out.

I stepped in, ready to do battle for my baby. “Yes, Zoe. That’s him.” I put a hand on her shoulder and inserted myself firmly at her side, just in case I had to pick up the pieces.

His eyes met mine. “Kate,” he breathed.

It was as if someone had stolen his voice. “Hi.” I glanced nervously at the crowd of bikers and tightened my grip on Zoe’s shoulder.

An extremely tall biker with wild, curly hair stepped forward, leaning a little to examine Zoe and me. “She’s got your eyebrow, boss.”

Jackson’s backhand caught him in the gut.

“Not the time, Sprout.” He acknowledged both of us with a tip of his head.

“Zoe.” Then he blinked as if clearing his eyes.

His now empty gun hand lifted, grasping at air.

“I never…” He turned to me. “Kate?” The anguish on his face furrowed between his brows. “I told you—”

“I know. It wasn’t—” I caught myself, I would not blame Zoe. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “No.” The gesture became more forceful.

“No. I’m the one who should be sorry. I never should have told you to stay away.

” He swallowed. The movement drew my attention to his bare throat and the leather vest on his chest. The president’s patch mocked me.

How? When? And the biggest question: how could I ever deal with this version of him?

“We need to move, Jackson. Get her and the kid somewhere safer.”

It was shocking to see a woman with them.

She didn’t wear Destroyers colors, and it was her bike that was the ugliest one.

But she certainly fit with these men. Something about the wary way she scanned the lot and the road beyond told me she was more than competent.

And, I had to admit, she was much prettier than I could ever be.

Her white-blond hair and perfect skin belonged on magazine covers, not in the middle of a biker gang. The gun in her hand fit, though.

“She’s right. My car’s right there. I can follow.”

Jackson held up a hand. “First things first, Zoe?” He motioned to her.

My daughter shook off my grip and stepped forward. She stopped barely a stride away and looked up at him. He tilted his head to search her face.

“You took an awful risk today.”

“I had to.” Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn’t break eye contact.

Jackson’s hand lifted. I cringed inside, worried this was going to be a nightmare. Instead, he held it inches from her face.

“May I?” Asking if he could touch.

Zoe nodded.

At first, it was light. A tentative brush of her eyebrow. Then his hand fell to her shoulder, and he pulled her in for the hug she deserved. His shoulders shook, and I knew, despite his face being buried in her hair, he was crying.

Bear turned away, scanning for threats and ignoring his leader’s weakness.

So did the woman, and the tall one named Sprout. The latter didn’t stay quiet, though. “What are you assholes waiting for? Gas up. Fuck. Y’all act like a bunch of fucking prospects.”

“Watch it, Sprout.” A long-haired man who looked like a Viking in biker leather limped up to the woman and whispered in her ear. The quiet command got her moving to her bike and filling up with the rest of the group while her man examined me. I caught his name patch and the VP patch.

“Wolf.” I held out a hand. “Kate…” I didn’t want to lie to them, but would not say my full name if I could help it.

“Kate Weaver.” He didn’t take my hand. “I know.” He tipped his head toward Jackson.

“Didn’t know about that, though.” He frowned.

His eyes flicked back to mine accompanied by a slight shake of his head, warning me I’d better not fuck up.

Or that he didn’t like the situation one bit.

I couldn’t blame him for it. I’d brought a war to their home. “Keys.” He held out his hand.

“Zoe has them.”

His shock turned to a scowl. “He’s got a kid who drives?” A curse hissed out of his lips before he could stop it. Then the damnedest thing happened. It started with a slight tremor in his shoulders and turned into a full bellow of laughter. “Jackson, you fucking dog.”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“She’s old enough to drive. You know what’s next, old man?”

That got Jackson moving. “Enough. Zoe, give the keys to Wolf. You’re riding with Sprout. Hey, dickweed, do you still have that vest for Danielle in your bags?”

“Yup,” Sprout answered. He dug through the bag nearest and pulled out a velcro-strapped vest that looked like John’s body armor. He handed it to Jackson with a quick tap on the front and flipped it over to tap the extra panel on the back before letting it go.

Jackson strapped it around Zoe. “Precautionary. You’re riding with the village idiot, but don’t let that scare you. He’s been on two wheels longer than he’s been walking. I wouldn’t trust you with anyone else, understand?”

“I guess.” Zoe patted at the heavy panels now snugly encasing her. I breathed a little sigh of relief, knowing she was safer. Maybe not as safe as a car, but protected from Shock just a bit better.

“And you,” Jackson’s finger moved, trying to reel me in. I resisted and crossed my arms.

“I told you, I can follow.”

He shook his head. “Absofuckinglutely not. You’re on the back of my bike and you ain’t never leaving it, got it?”

It took everything in me not to cry. It wasn’t every little girl’s dream, and certainly hadn’t been one of mine nineteen years ago. But today I was surprised to discover there was something I longed for more than safety. And that was to wrap my body around him again.