Page 5

Chewy

I finally caved and I’m letting Moss lead the way as we quietly make our way through the building Candice said the kids were in. It seems that after the DRMC took down their last place, she’s been moving the kids every few days. She’s good, I have to give her that. None of these properties show against her name or any of her businesses. Instead, they’re all owned by shell companies owned by the shareholders in Happy Values. It’s ridiculous the lengths rich people will go to cover their nefarious tracks.

“Hang back, Chewy. I’m going to clear this floor,” Moss says in a low voice, his service weapon out in front of him as he stalks down the hall.

I wave him on. I’m fully capable of doing this part, but Moss has been a great side kick so I figured I should let him have some fun. That’s how friends work. Sharing is caring and all that crap. Checking my watch I realize that I’m hitting close to six hours away from home, meaning if I don’t call or text my brothers, they’ll come for me. At this point I really don’t need the cavalry so I flick off a quick message.

All going well Moss and I should be back on the road within the next half hour.

“Clear,” Moss voices quietly.

I move to stand next to him, looking down the long hall. It’s a mansion style house, but instead of the large, white wooden doors you’d expect, each door has a window insert. Peering through I can see a little boy playing with blocks, a woman sitting in a rocking chair, reading a book.

“Looks like each kid has a nanny,” Moss murmurs. “There are no guards that I can see, just the women in the rooms with the kids.”

I nod, following along, peeking in the windows.

“It’s like fucking window shopping. Watch how the kids and nannies pay no attention to us,” Moss says with disgust.

I nod in agreement, “Yeah, they’ve become desensitized.”

Moss shakes his head sadly. “How do you know which is your kid?”

There are nameplates on each door, stating the child’s name and age. I slowly walk the hall, reading every name on the door until I come to a stop.

Laney-May

2 years old

Moss steps up beside me, before turning wide eyes in my direction. “Roads, Lane,” he bobs his head side to side, “May, like the month and the rest of your family names.”

A smile tugs at my lips. He cracked it in one. It’s what made me stop and pause too. We share a look before peering through the window. There, sitting on the floor, lining up blocks with one hand, the other clasping an alligator stuffy to her chest, is the child I’ve come here for. Rhodie’s child. Rhodie’s and my child. I wait for a feeling of rightness to come over me, maybe a blooming in my chest, but nothing as of yet.

If I was anyone else I’m sure I’d be concerned, but I’m not. After watching Jules fall in love with his daughter I know that it might take me a little bit of time. Hopefully I’m smarter than Jules and don’t need my kid to be almost kidnapped to drive the point home.

Shuffling has my head snapping to the side, my shoulders relaxing when Dansen and his men flood the floor. He looks into a few windows as he makes his way to me and Moss, clocking exactly what we did.

“We’ll take the nannies and the children. Did you find the child you were looking for?”

“Yes, I think I have.”

Opening the door I walk through, ignoring the nanny jumping up and making a few disgruntled noises, a little shriek leaving her lips when Moss takes control of that situation. I don’t care what he does with her, as long as she’s far, far away.

“Hello,” I say, my head tipped toward the floor, at the mass of brown curls.

Laney-May tips her head back and I’m met with bright green eyes. Just like Rhodie. She says nothing, choosing to stare instead.

“I like your block line. I like to do that, too.” Sitting down and picking up a white block, I move it into the correct place, in a straight line, around an inch away from the last block.

She stares at me a moment, then adds on to the line, before looking back at me. I follow her lead and we do this a few more times before she stops, stares and then shuffles closer, sitting her little bottom on my lap. Of their own accord my arms wrap around her, like they do with Chomper, but this time I don’t need to avoid a snout.

“You’re coming home with me.” I then think that might sound bossy, so I add, “If that’s OK with you.”

I’m not sure if a two year old child understands what I’m saying, or if she can even talk back, but I take her nod as affirmation. The Manwitch said she was ours, so she is.

“Let’s go. There’s some people you need to meet.”

Rhodie

We got the message from Chewy that she’s on her way back so instead of going directly home with all the stuff we bought we instead split off. Blanche, who told me she’s “nesting” decided to have the only prospect we have meet her at mine and Chewy’s cabin so they can build the furniture for the kid. Our kid.

“You gonna be ready for this?” Gus asks, at my side as we walk into the clubhouse after pulling in with more kid shit for our rooms here.

Looking over at the man who will one day be my brother-in-law, I give him my honest answer, “Gus, I have never been ready for anything ever since Chewy blew into my life. The best I can hope for is to hold on tight and ride Chewy’s wave because I fucking love that woman, but shit, I’d be lying if I didn’t want to tan her ass.”

Gus makes a weird growling sound while Tav makes a gagging noise. “Could have gone a lifetime without hearing that.”

I grin, slapping him a little too hard on the shoulder before heading to my room to find TumTum and Chef already in there, having unboxed the crib already.

“Boys, let’s get this shit done!”

* * *

“What in the fuck is wrong with this thing?” Chef growls in that goddamn panty-melting voice.

“You put the wrong part in! See? Part 1D goes into 16C?” TumTum leans toward Chef, finger pointing at something on the fucking poster sized instruction sheet.

“You better fuck off with that instruction sheet!” Chef tries to snatch the instructions away and there is nothing I can do because I’m having my own mental breakdown trying to figure out this fucking rocking contraption in front of me.

“Rhodie! You better tell him to fuck right off before I shoot him!” Chef threatens, TumTum backing away, both hands up placatingly.

“Hey boy- whoa. Are you guys OK?” Lovely’s soft voice is full of concern as she stares at the carnage in my room.

Thank fuck my dad and his cronies had enough forethought to make the clubhouse fucking huge, including all our rooms, because my room looks like a fucking bombsite. There are screws and metal parts all over the floor, bits of wood that at some stage will be the bed our kid will sleep in. I’m surrounded by plastic and a poofy cushion thing. We must look like shit because Lovely carefully steps into the room, pity shining in her dark eyes. Her mouth opens as if to say something, before closing. She does this a few more times before she plants her hands on her hips, a look of determination coming over her.

“OK, you have around an hour before Chewy returns, and if she’s off doing what we think she’s doing-”

“She is. My dad is home tomorrow, Chewy called him to let him know he’s going to be a grandpa.” I can’t help the smile that takes over my face.

Lovely nods, her dark hair swaying. “In that case we need this taken care of. Chef, step away. Go get a drink or some fresh air. TumTum, hand me those instructions. You do the same. Meet me back here in 5 minutes and we’ll get this crib built. Without arguing.”

Both men get up and move toward the door, only grumbling a little. Well, OK, grumbling a lot, but Lovely is too fucking sweet to get pissed at, so instead they’ll do as the nice lady says and come back in five.

“Without their angry vibes in here you can finish building your swing cradle,” Lovely says, quickly scanning the instructions before piling up the screws.

“My what?”

“That thing you’re building. It’s a baby swing cradle.” I must stare at her blankly because she lets out a sigh before pointing to the box, “The UFO seat thing that Juno sits in.”

I stare at her, then the front of the box, realizing what I’m meant to be making was right there. On the box.

“Rhodie, did you even read the instructions?” Lovely’s lips twitch in the corners. I just know she wants to laugh, but instead she just raises her brows at me.

“No,” I grumble, “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

She pats my hand, then continues sorting through crib pieces, laying them out just so, before reading the instruction manual again. Again, she finds matching pieces and lays them out in a neat pile, and I watch her. When she first arrived she was beaten down, frightened of a world she had no idea about. But instead of cutting herself off, hiding away in the cabin next to mine and Chewy’s, she’s here. Bossing around men twice her size. She’s out running the front desk of Devil’s Big Tow, calling in debts. She’s raising her little girl, helping with the other babies and kids. She’s a good friend of all the Ol Ladies and I know, deep down I know, that my brother feels more for her than he thinks he should. I also know that he treats her like she’s the woman we first met. Timid, shy, scared. But she’s far from that. I don’t know why I never saw it before, but Lovely has a quiet strength about her, quite the opposite to Marx, but equally impressive.

“Lovely?”

“Hmm?” She answers distractedly, still concentrating on her task.

“You’ll make a great Ol Lady one day.”

Her cheeks pinken and she shakes her head, “Oh no, I think of you all as brothers,” a sly smile comes over her face, “although I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wondered what Fox and Nitro get up to in the bedroom,”

I choke on spit. Or air or anything else you can choke on and my body heaves with a coughing fit as Lovely giggles, rummaging around for the bits and pieces she needs.

“Lovely! Holy fuck! You almost killed me!” My voice comes out as a wheeze and she throws her head back and cackles.

Once she calms down she smiles at me softly. “Truly, you’re all like family to me.”

“Every one of us?” I ask, brow raised.

Her cheeks darken and I know I’ve got her so I beam at her.

“Oh shush you! Just get back to building your UFO seat,” She huffs good naturedly, before spinning to the door when TumTum and Chef enter. “Good! You’re back, let’s do this!”

In no time we have the crib fully set up, and the UFO seat rotating weirdly in the corner. I have no idea what age our kid will be, but I’m hoping it’s too old to use the seat because it kinda creeps me out.

“OH LUCY! I’M HOOOOOOME!” a voice calls and I’d be lying if I didn’t get straight up and run to the common room.

Just before I hit the end of the hall I slow down to a stride. I mean, I don’t wanna look too desperate! Walking through the doors my eyes scan the room, searching for my woman. The one who fucking completes me.

Standing there, just inside the doorway, Moss Davies behind her, is Chewy. My fucking reason for being. In her arms a little girl, head full of dark curls with a goddamn gator stuffy clutched to her chest. She turns her little head, her green eyes meeting mine and right then, right there I know that she is the one. She’s our daughter.

Chewy beams at me, holding eye contact as I make my way across the room to them. I gently run my hand over our daughter’s curls before leaning down and taking my woman’s lips in a chaste kiss. Moving my gaze to the girl in Chewy’s arms, I give her a smile.

“Hi there, little one, I’m Rhodie.” She stares up at me before giving me a small smile as we stare at each other, taking each other in.

“Hey guess what?” Chewy’s excited voice breaks my gaze with the little one in her arms.

“What, babe?”

“Me and Moss are friends!”

Pops

Ah shit. My eyes are wet. I blink them a few times to clear them. Can’t show too much emotion around these fuckers, it’ll ruin my street cred. But shit, watching my baby girl walk in that door with another little baby girl in her arms? That right there is enough to bring a tear to the eye of the toughest bastard around. A heavy arm drapes across my shoulder before I shrug it off, Tav’s chuckle letting me know which of my grandsons is beside me.

“She did good, Pops.”

I clear my clogged throat. “She sure fucking did, Son.”

It’s not like it’s on everybody’s list to have a kid, and truth be told, I never thought Chewy would. I’ve known her limitations and struggles since she was a little girl and I just never thought that motherhood was in the cards for her, and that was fine. Not all women want to grow up to be mothers and shit. Some want a career or to spend their life doing what they want. Chewy, though, Chewy has always, on some level, wanted to be normal. And in her own way, she got it. She went out there and made friends, she has a man who would fucking die for her, and she gave me a grandchild. I mean, sure, so he’s a gator? Still, she loves him with all her heart and is the best gator mom anyone could ask for. But watching her step through those doors with a little girl held to her chest, one that looks like she did as a child? All wild hair and wide eyed? Well, that did something to this crusty old man’s heart.

I feel Gus and Jules step up alongside me and Tav, and I gaze across the room. I see the grin on Chewy’s face, the awe in her man’s eyes, and pride blooms in my chest. More than I usually feel for her. When she was little and struggling with wanting to be like the other girls I’d talk her through it. Tell her that other little girls are boring and will all grow up to be married to boring men and have boring children. I’d tell her she was meant for more, and she fucking proved me right.

“She’s gonna need us,” Jules says in a low voice. “She’s gonna be feeling a fuck load of things and it’ll be overwhelming.”

“Oh, speaking from experience, Jules?” Tav teases.

Jules doesn’t say a word, just hits him with his asshole look, which Tav throws right back, before grinning.

“On the upside,” Gus starts, “At least Chewy is self aware and listens to advice,” he says drily, shooting a look at his brother.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jules says, dropping a kiss on Juno’s head.

Tav and Gus shuffle a little and I feel a small, soft hand slip into mine. “Aw look at her, Sydney.”

“I know baby,” I press a kiss to Debs’ hair, and we watch as Rhodie lifts the little girl out of Chewy’s hold, placing her on his hip as Chewy hugs one of his arms to her, staring up at the little girl with curiosity rather than wonder.

“Fuck this, I ain’t waiting any longer, come on, lets go meet the newest Tombs,” I say, ready to make a move.

“Wouldn’t she be a Paxton?”

“Nope. Baby girl will always be a Tombs. Same with Chomper and this one.”

I make my way across the room, ignoring the sniggers and Debs backhand to the gut with that tutting noise she does. I got a new grandbaby to meet.