Page 8 of The Biker and the Baker

Now he's my right-hand man.

"If there's a problem at the house, Mice, you fix it," I grind out. "That's what you’re there for."

"I tried, boss, I did. But…"

"But what?"

"I…got stabbed."

"For shit's sake," I grumble, sitting up. "Be there in a few."

By the timeI get to the house in Cherry Hills Village, my headache has only worsened. Ineedsleep. Was a terrible decision to have a fuck-fest with Kyor last night, especially after already being burned out from work.

A cacophony of shrieks, shouts, and profanities spill from the house as I ride up. No action on the outside, but the front double doors are spread open.

When I stride in, at least three people are bleeding in the kitchen, one of those being Mice.

“Daddy’s here,” someone mumbles with relief.

All the squawks and squabbling tapers to silence as everyone looks to me. Twelve women, all half-dressed, and one man—Mice.

Calm, cool, and even, I ask, “What happened?”

Everyone begins talking all at once, exacerbating my headache. I hold up a hand to stop them, then point to the redhead sitting lazily on a stool and looking bored with this whole mess. Julie’s my favorite ‘cause she doesn’t give a shit. Entirely drama-free.

“Tell me what happened, Julie.”

She sighs and reluctantly speaks. “Kash sneaked in some bummy dealer last night. Apple woke up to 'em doing blow on the bottom bunk and freaked out. When she yelled for the dude to get out, he punched her in the face. Apple tried to defend herself and Kash stabbed her with a pair of scissors.

“Apple started screaming, we all woke up, and when she told us what happened we all chased the dickhead out of the house. So Kash, high off her ass from blow, got pissed and stabbed Tasha. Then Apple grabbed a knife, stabbed Kash, and when Mice came in to end it Kash stabbed him, too. Things got wild from there.”

Blowing out a tired breath, I rub my hand down my face.

To Mice, “Call Lenny. Tell him we need him right away, and to bring extra hands.”

“Got it.”

Then to Kash, who’s pressing a dishrag to her wound, I calmly ask, “What’re the rules, Kash?”

“Daddy, I’m so—”

“Therules?”

Her dark hair forms a curtain around her face as she hangs her head. “No men in the house. No drugs in the house. No drugs in our bodies. We snort and we’re out.”

“C’mere.”

By the time she gets to me, she’s in tears.

I pull her under my arm and kiss the top of her head. “You understand you’re out, right?”

“Good riddance,” someone mutters.

Kash sobs into my chest. “But where am I gonna go? What am I gonna do?”

Apple spits, “Why don’t you call the piece of shit coke-head you snuck in this morning?”

While rubbing Kash’s back consolingly, I address the others. “Those who’re wounded, living room. Medical help’s on the way. The rest of you can go back to bed. Please. You’ll need rest for later.”