Page 52 of Silver Fox Daddies

She cuts him off, pushing past us.

Pushing past all of us.

Barefoot, she runs away into the desert, red fabric rippling in the wind.

13

MELISSA

It can’t be him.

It’s not him.

But itwashim.

I know what I saw.

I saw the name JAX embroidered across his jacket with the skull, proving he’s part of Reaper Sons.

But oh, not just part of the club. He’s the leader of it.

It’s not true. Maybe I got it wrong. I was terrified this morning. Diesel had just killed two men with his bare hands right in front of my eyes, and when I was looking through that vent in the wall, I was more concerned with the smell of their rotting bodies, the blood spilling from their chests. I could have gotten it wrong. Maybe I only heard Daddy and saw his face because I wanted him to come to the rescue.

But there’s a small voice inside of me repeatingI don’t think soevery time I second-guess myself. I know what I saw this morning. I can distract myself and slip away from reality byordering Cash, Bishop, and Diesel to take off my clothes, but it doesn’t take away from the cold, hard fact that the leader of Reaper Sons is Daddy.

My breath catches in my throat, tears running down my face and blurring my vision. All of this is just way too complicated. The sun is too bright, so I shut my eyes, but I’m back in that ammunition room listening as Bishop explains how much destruction a bullet I can’t even remember the name of can cause. How he wants to use them to obliterate every single Reaper Sons member, Daddyespecially.

And then a few minutes later, he proceeds to take off my dress and take my breasts into his mouth, totally unaware of the fact that I’m the daughter of their rival club’s leader.

I have never heard of Jax before. Daddy has only ever been addressed by the name Robert Strongbow. That must be his undercover name.

The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. He never told me his business. Never exactly told me what trade it’s in—just that I wouldn’t understand it.

At least he didn’t lie aboutthat.

Ididn’tunderstand the world of outlaw motorcyclists.

But I do now.

I run against the wind, feet sore. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to get away. This is all too much. It’s Daddy vs. three bikers who turn my body to mush every time I so much as look at them.

The worst part about it all is that I don’t know whose side I’m on.

The obvious choice should be Daddy’s, because we’re blood, but the way those bikers made me feel in the moments leading up to our public humiliation…well, that has to be studied by a professional. I was so aroused I felt almost unconscious. Cash’s kiss sent shivers running down my spine. Then, there were Diesel’s ass slaps. Bishop tweaking my nipples. They werefightingover me. God, nobody has ever fought over me like that before.

But they want Daddy dead.

They’re at war with a club I didn’t even know he was a part of.

I open my eyes and try to mop up all the tears. I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I can’t decide what to feel—angry that my father never told me the truth. Anxious that somebody might end up dead. Either way, it’s a loss for me. I shouldn’t be bothered about three motorcyclists who I have known for only two days. But for some reason, pain shoots through my chest every time I picture Daddy or one of his Reaper Sons men firing a bullet through one of my men’s hearts.

My men.

Get over yourself.

I turn back, impressed at how much distance I’ve put between myself and the Venom Vultures clubhouse. There’s nothing in sight. Just a cactus every hundred or so yards interrupting the desert from becoming one beige space of nothingness.

A wave of humiliation passes through me when I remind myself of the curtain incident, but it subsides when I think about the girl—Gigi, Diesel called her—warning me that Bishop only cares about fucking. It hurts because it makes sense. He’s been the most forward out of all three of them.