Page 4 of Roxy’s Independence (Mayhem Makers – MMM: Deviant Knights MC #3)
CHAPTER
THREE
Saber
The fourth, we end up in Blue Ridge’s valley to do some hiking, mountain biking, and kayaking.
A mini family vacation that doesn’t have us too far away from the club.
Even though we could’ve driven here, we decided to rent a log cabin not far from the cliffside town.
Roxy drove the SUV with the mountain bikes hooked to the back and the kayaks strapped to the top.
Egypt was her passenger but Canyon, who’s learning to navigate a motorcycle himself, rode with me.
He’s not ready to hit the road yet, he’s still learning on the backroads, but like his father, he loves the rumble of the bike.
First up on the agenda, is doing some local shopping to support the ma and pops’ shops.
Roxy is determined to get not only groceries for our week-long getaway, but to get the kids and herself new suits and other water gear.
On top of that, we have a list of people we want to buy thank you gifts for.
It's a damn good thing the hospital just renewed my contract because my wallet is going to be feeling awfully thin after this escapade.
“Dad, look,” Egypt squeals as we walk down Main Street.
It takes a lot for her to get that enthusiastic so I stop and turn to where she’s pointing.
“Can we go in, please?” Those puppy dog eyes and pleading are my downfall.
Where she wants to go is into a local artist’s studio.
I watch as a woman sits at an easel in the alcove of the front window, lost in whatever masterpiece she’s painting.
“Of course we can,” I respond and chuckle when she starts shaking her hips and pumping her hands through the air.
“Yes!” she shouts, reaching out and grabbing my hand then hauling me in the door’s direction. “Mom! Dad and I are going in there.” She points at the entrance and as I look over at my old lady, her eyes are sparkling with humor.
It still humbles me to hear the words ‘Dad’ and ‘Mom’ slip so easily from her lips.
It took a while to break down her walls and get her to sit in a room with us without daggers being shot at us, but eventually, she started to relax and let us in.
Once she did, bonds were formed and the universe aligned.
As the bell rings over our heads once we walk through the threshold, the woman’s head swivels in our direction and she smiles. “Welcome. Are you here for supplies or to sign up for camp?”
“Camp?” Egypt gasps out the question, and I can hear her heart sing at the prospect of taking classes.
“We’re here on vacation,” I explain to the woman. “My daughter is an art enthusiast.”
“I’m Emerson, and offer a camp for young adults every month during tourist season. It’s two hours a day and starts tomorrow. I still have a few openings if you’re interested.”
“Think Mom will let me?” Egypt whispers, the anticipation in her voice has me wanting to give her everything her heart desires.
“What am I, chopped liver? Don’t I get a say in this?” I ask, acting offended that she referred to Roxy instead of me.
She cups her hand over her mouth as she giggles. “We both know that what Mom says goes. You always go along with whatever she says, Dad.”
“You’ve got me there,” I mumble, twisting back around and looking at Emerson. “How much does this camp cost and what are the times?”
“I’ll go get Mom!” Egypt shouts as she disappears from sight.
“I guess that means she’s interested in joining the camp.
I have a brochure over there that highlights the techniques they’ll learn during our sessions.
” As she grabs the stock paper that’s folded in threes, I take a minute to scan the store.
I blanch when I see wires for cutting clay and other dangerous looking tools.
Is all this necessary for the trade? If so, I’m going to have to build a shed and put it under lock down.
It’s a serial killer's one-stop shop for all his murderous endeavors.
Upon further inspection, I see a sanitization station that has me taking a step back.
It’s a butcher’s wet dream. Scalpels, paring knives, ice picks, cleavers—what the actual fuck?
As she passes me the pamphlet, I quickly open it and check it out.
If Egypt is expected to touch any of those items, we’re outta here.
As Egypt comes back in, towing her mom with her, Roxy and my eyes meet. I widen mine and angle them toward the items that have my heart palpitating. When she notices where they shifted, mirth dances on her face. I shake my head because this doesn’t seem to faze her in the same way it does me.
“Mom, look!” Egypt grabs the paper from my hand and shoves it in Roxy’s chest. “Can I do it, please?”
Roxy smirks in my direction as she starts a conversation with Emerson.
I take a moment to walk around, and everything I find is normal outside of the sharp instruments that I avoid like the plague.
There’s something dark and eerie about being in their presence.
Butcher would have a field day shopping here.
That thought has me huffing out a small cackle because that’s an understatement.
As I finish with my wandering, I turn and my eyes widen for a whole nother reason.
Egypt, and a boy a little older than she is, are staring at each other with a glint of mesmerization.
The twinkle in his eyes is what has me choking on thin air.
“Hell no,” I grumble as I stomp in their direction, intent on breaking up this little fascination of theirs.
“What’s this?” I ask, pointing at their conjoined hands from a shake that never finished. “Hands to yourself, boy.”
“Dad!” Egypt scandalously shouts. “You’re embarrassing me.
” I’d rather embarrass her than have her thinking she’s old enough to hold hands with a boy.
She hasn’t even hit teenage status yet for fuck’s sake.
I should’ve had a few years to get used to the idea of having a daughter and getting all of my weapons in order before her hormones get out of whack and overrule her common sense.
“Weston,” Roxy calls my name as she places her hand on my forearm. “Why don’t you go see what Canyon’s getting into at the motorcycle shop down the street and let me deal with this.”
Gritting my teeth, I lean over and announce, “No boys, Roxy. Not now, maybe not ever. I’m not ready for it, and I don’t like it. For his safety, you may want to remind your daughter of that fact.”
“I’ll remind her, handsome. While I do that, go rein your boy in before he tries to buy one of everything,” she reasons.
“Whatever, Foxy. Fix this,” I order, waving my hand between the two kids standing in front of me.
When she squeezes my arm, I spin on the heels of my feet and go outside where I catch my first breath of fresh air.
I’m not fond of this new development of my daughter and the opposite sex.
It’s offensive for a father to witness. I mentally catalogue every gun and knife I brought with me.
Wondering if I should enact my rights as a dad and carry it on my hip for this boy to see.
Stomping down the sidewalk, I find Canyon with his arm swung over a girl’s shoulders.
A smile crosses my face because that’s my son.
Already a ladies man. I laugh at the contradiction I’m feeling when it comes to him and his sister.
It’s different, though. At least to me it is.
Boys are physically stronger than girls.
Canyon can take care of himself—I don’t have to worry about him having his innocence stolen from him.
But I do need to reiterate to him that she is somebody’s daughter and he needs to respect that.
So, I wipe the smile from my face and breach the door.
“Canyon,” I say his name with a warning tone.
“Dad. This is Meri, she’s the shop owner's daughter. She was showing me around.”
“With your arm over her shoulder?” I question, raising my brows at him. “That’s a good way to get shot, son.”
“I don’t shoot my prey, it’s too messy. I have a shovel and a backhoe, can’t miss what you can’t find.” A giant of a man comes out from the back, announcing. “Meri, go stock some shelves.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she quietly says, glancing up at Canyon with a shy smile as she leaves the comfort of his arms and shuffles out of the main floor and toward the back.
I’m not a fan of the way the man eyes my kid, but as a father, I begrudgingly get it.
“My daughter’s not on the menu, boyo. Is there anything specific you’re in the market for?
” He propels his hand in my direction and introduces himself.
“Name’s Mario. This is my shop. If there’s something you’re looking for but can’t find, I have a catalogue behind the counter you can shift through and I can special order then have the item conveniently shipped to your house. ”
I’m not getting welcome vibes from Mario, so I place my hand on Canyon’s shoulder and maneuver him toward the helmets.
I’m convinced that’s why he came in here, he’s been using my old one and has been in the market for one he can call his own.
The sooner we go through his inventory and beat feet, the better.
My kids are causing chaos in this small town and we haven’t even been here twenty-four hours yet.