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Chapter forty-three

Putting a bunch of people who are used to roaming free on lockdown is never a good idea, which is why we try to not do it if possible. Tempers tend to flare, kids get wild, and the club whores, some of them anyway, start getting sneaky. That shit will cause chaos quicker than anything else.

It was damn near a cause for celebration when lockdown was lifted.

One good thing that came out of it is the bond between me and my Hummingbird growing stronger. Seeing her in my element, around my people, proved wrong all the previous notions I had about her not fitting in with us.

Learning the dark truth about her past had me wanting to break away from her and head to the prison to take her dad out myself. It’d be so fucking easy to get to him, but it was as if she knew what I was thinking because she tightened her hold on me and continued her story.

I want to blame her brothers and rage at them for not seeing what was right under their noses. They had to have fucking suspected something , but then I think about my woman and the type of person she is, and I know she’d have done everything she could to protect them from that knowledge.

When Bailee loves, she loves so goddamn hard, and she’ll always put her life on the line to protect the ones she loves. It’s something I need to remember about her.

Still doesn’t mean I’m not going to have a talk with Desdemona when I can because someone who puts their hands on my woman doesn’t deserve to draw air anymore.

Her mama knowing . . . well, that’s something I might end up needing to have a chat about.

Shit’s been quiet at the club’s businesses, and it puts me on fucking edge like always. Nothing good ever comes from silence from our enemies. It means they’re plotting, and knowing Killer, it’s going to be a fucking mess.

Emmy Lou called yesterday and informed me that she hasn’t got shit on Killer. Not surprising. He hasn’t gotten as far in life as he has without being smart and having deep connections. None of the things she has found can be used against him. Hell, it can’t even be used to find him. Our only bet is Bailee’s pictures. Em suggested maybe going to Max, their FBI contact, with the pictures because they’ll put Killer away.

I told her I’d run the idea by Wraith, but putting him away isn’t going to stop him. He’ll just run shit from prison because he’ll have his whole club at his beck and call. The Night Skulls will need to be taken out if we want the threats to stop.

All I know is it won’t be an easy battle, and while I’m looking forward to putting an end to the shit going on, I’m not ready to lose the people I know we’re going to lose in the fight.

Rolling out from under the car I’m working on, I climb to my feet and grab the rag from the lifted hood to wipe grease and grime from my hands. I unzip the overalls and pull my arms out, leaving them hanging from my waist as I walk to the work order board and check it over. Before signing off on it, I start the vehicle, smirking when she purrs under my hand like a brand-new kitten.

It’s been fucking great getting back under the hood of a vehicle again now that the shop is back in working order. Besides riding my bike and burying myself between Bailee’s thighs, getting filthy from tearing vehicles apart and putting them back together soothes the chaos that’s always present under my skin.

I sign off on the work order and pull the car out of the bay and into one of the slots reserved for completed work. Thankfully, most of our previous customers understood the situation when their vehicles were damaged. They weren’t fucking happy by any means, but they understood. Suppose it helped that we offered free service for three years on top of the money the insurance paid out.

As I head back into the office to let the customer know their vehicle is ready for pickup, my phone rings.

I slide it out of my pocket, frowning when I see it’s the rehab center. “Yeah?”

“Hey, baby,” Heather chirps, and I grit my teeth as a shudder rolls over me. “Where’s our girl? Can I talk to her?”

There’s something in her tone that puts me on alert, but her voice sounds clear, and I can hear the frantic energy of the rehab center in the background, so I brush it off.

“She’s at home with the sitter. I’m at work.”

“But I want to talk to her,” she whines.

“I’ll do what I can to get you through to her when I get home,” I promise.

Heather sighs. “Okay. I just really want to talk to her.”

“Know you do. You sound good,” I tell her. “She’ll be happy about that.”

There’s murmuring on her end, and it sounds way too intimate for where she’s at, but it’s not my business as long as she’s clean.

“I got to go,” she says. “Pritchard said I can call Lyric back in two hours. Will that be enough time?”

“Yeah, finishin’ up here now.”

After saying goodbye, I call the customer and let them know they’re ready then lock up the shop.

My girls are waiting for me on the porch when I ride up the driveway. Didn’t want to start shit with Heather, which is why I told her Lyric was with a babysitter. Just didn’t clarify who it was.

Lyric bounces on her feet as Bailee holds her shoulder steady to keep her from running off before I’m stopped.

As soon as I flick off the engine, Lyric’s tiny legs eat up the ground as she jumps from the porch and races toward me. I climb from my bike and steady myself as she barrels into me.

I chuckle and lift her, settling her on my hip. Not much longer and she’ll be too grown for this kind of shit. “Miss me, Princess?”

“A lot, Dad. Me and Bee had fun today though.”

“That’s good,” I reply, walking toward the beautiful woman watching us with a warm, patient smile.

I reach her, pull her into my other side, and drop a kiss to her upturned lips, causing Lyric to giggle. “Man could get used to this.”

“Used to what?” Bailee murmurs.

“Comin’ home to his two beautiful girls waitin’ so pretty for him on the porch.”

Bailee smiles, running her fingers over my face. “I’ve got supper waiting on the table.”

I lean down and nip at her lip. “Words to a man’s heart. Feed me.”

Lyric snickers, shoving off to get down, and I loosen my hold. She starts to walk inside, but I grab her hand, halting her progress.

“Your mom called me at work. Goin’ to call back in about another hour.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, her smile fading.

“Hey. Know you don’t have to talk to her if you don’t want to.”

Lyric nods. “I want to.” She nibbles on her lip. “Did she sound good, Daddy?”

“Yeah, Princess, sounded good.”

That makes her smile again. “‘Kay. Let’s go eat.”

Once she’s inside, I pull Bailee in front of me, dropping my hands to her ass and brushing my lips against her forehead. “Have a good day with our girl?”

“I always do. How was your day?”

“Felt good gettin’ greasy again.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve brought trouble to your life.”

I snort, gripping her ass tighter. “Baby girl, this life is always bound to find trouble. Stop apologizin’ or I’m goin’ to have to tan this pretty ass of yours.”

“Not really a deterrent, bossman,” she murmurs, lifting to her toes and closing her mouth over mine.

With a groan, I pull her closer until my jean-covered cock rests against her stomach.

“Ugh. Again?” Lyric grumbles playfully.

Bailee pulls away with a laugh, fisting my shirt and burying her face against my chest.

I shrug, smiling at my little girl. “Like kissin’ her.”

Lyric puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stern stare. “‘Kay, well, could you kiss later? I’m hungry.” She crinkles her nose. “And you’re dirty. Go wash up, Dad.”

Bailee leans back to peer up at me, her beautiful eyes shining with happiness. “The boss has spoken.” She grabs my beard and tugs gently. “Go shower, handsome.”

After dinner, I help Bailee clean up while Lyric takes a quick shower before her mom calls.

If she calls.

Heather’s never really been consistent with Lyric, so I’m not expecting her to start now. But I’m surprised when my phone rings right after Lyric gets out of the shower and the rehab center’s number flashes over the screen.

We give her a semblance of privacy as we work to clean up the kitchen. I don’t miss the way Bailee’s eyes continue to drift to the living room in worry. The conversation doesn’t last long, and when it ends, Lyric stares down at the phone with furrowed brows.

I start to go to her, but Bailee places a gentle hand on my arm.

“Just give her a minute,” she whispers. “She’s dealing with her emotions. Trust her to come to you when she’s ready. You’re her safe space, Steel.”

I watch as Lyric shakes her head before searching us out. Love fills her small face, and she beams at us. She sets the phone on the coffee table and rushes over. Her arms wrap around us, and I peer over at Bailee only to find her gazing down at my girl with her heart in her eyes, and fuck, it’s so beautiful.

“I love you guys,” Lyric says, her voice muffled against us.

“Love you too, my little heart song.”

“Love you too, Princess.”

I’m beginning to wonder if it’s not her mom’s love she needs but the unconditional love of a mother in general. Sometimes, we choose our own families, and I think Lyric is on the way to choosing hers.

I’m just not sure how Heather will take that.