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Walking in, I sit on the edge of her bed, reaching out for her hand. She looks up at me, her eyes watering.
“I know you think you love him, Clara, but you don’t. Love ain’t layin’ fists on people. That isn’t what it’s about, and you know that. Don’t let your life turn out the same as the one we’re tryin’ to escape. Don’t let a man lay his hands on you. Promise me that.”
Her lip trembles. “I just want someone to love me. I thought ...”
“I love you,” I tell her, “and there is a man out there who will love you so fuckin’ hard you’ll forget this piece of shit. If he loved you, he wouldn’t hurt you, and deep down, you know that.”
She nods, swiping away her tears.
“We’ll get out of here, one day soon. I’ll show you what life is really about. There will be no more abuse and anger. You’ll find someone who will treat you right, I promise you that.”
“I hope so,” she whispers, closing her eyes.
I go to release her hand, but she hangs on tight. “Cade. Can you stay with me?”
Nodding, I stay, right there on the end of the bed.
I’ll get her out of this.
I will.
I swear it.
“WE’VE GOT ENOUGH SHIT to worry about without my daughter gettin’ us into more,” Jackson mutters during church, as we discuss club business.
“I hear you,” I say. “But she’s fuckin’ stubborn and won’t back down.”
“Ever think of tellin’ her about your sister so she can make an informed decision?” Spike points out, lighting his cigarette.
“My past ain’t somethin’ I want brought up,” I grunt. “You know why, because you had the absolute pleasure of meeting my father once and you know what kind of fucked up shit he put us through.”
I’ve known Spike since we were younger, but when it came to my family, I kept him away. I never brought my friends home, and I never involved them in my family. I was far too ashamed, and I never wanted the world to see what kind of monster we lived with. He only met him once, when I nearly killed the fucker, and it was Spike who convinced Clara to agree it was self-defense so I wouldn’t go away for a long time.
Jackson gives me a look, firm and unwavering, and answers before Spike can. “She shared her past with you, only fair for you to do the same. Might pull her up.”
“You’re her father, you fuckin’ pull her up.”
“Easy now,” Muff cuts in. “Ain’t no reason to get angry. We’re only tryin’ to help you, brother. Don’t want to see her get into trouble.”
Taking a long, burning breath, I change the subject. “How about we worry about what the real problem is? We still have to deal with that fucker Wesley. He ain’t goin’ to just disappear. He’s already caused a problem with our club, and if he’s messin’ with bad people, we could have a problem.”
“We’re dealin’ with Wesley,” Jacks mutters. “You need to focus on Addison.”
“This ain’t just your club, Pres. We all fuckin’ play a part. If that fucker is goin’ to come in here and blow shit up, I’m goin’ to be part of it,” I grind out.
“As I said, we’re dealin’ with it.”
“How?”
“Got men trackin’ him. We’ll get hold of him, and bring him in. That’s all you need to know for now.”
“It’s my business too,” I bark. “Don’t fuckin’ shut me out.”
“Alright, you two,” Muff slaps a hand on the table. “Think we’re done here for the day. I’ve got a buyer to meet with. I’ll check you later.”
Pushing up off the table, Muff pulls on his leathers and disappears.
Spike leans back in the chair, throwing a booted foot up onto the table. “Don’t let me stop you.”
