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I was beside myself when I got the girls back. I couldn’t believe Angela had lost them and then, instead of calling the cops or me, just went home. Appalled wasn’t the word for what I felt, but I would be ringing the police later and making a report. How lucky was I that the guy next door had been pretty decent and taken my kids in?
Even so, I was still suspicious. Savage was a biker, after all.
But Isla and Harper had told me he’d fed them and given them drinks and ice cream. Harper explained quietly that Savage (what type of name was that?) had shown her his cameras, showing them that they were safe.
When Phoe had explained what had happened to the girls, I was livid, and after speaking to them, I wondered what to do. I’d like to work. All my money had gone into buying this house and ensuring we had no mortgage. The girls and I needed security. And they needed a good role model, I worked for food and the bill money.
Jeez, I did not want them turning into their father!
Any other money I’d received after the fiasco—as I called it—had gone into trust funds for the kid’s college education. Then, I’d left my old career far behind. Sadly, I was notorious now within my field and waitressing certainly did not bring in the cash. After the media frenzy, nobody would be looking for me as a waitress. And that suited me just fine. However, the money wasn’t great.
I phoned my boss Bernard once the girls bathed and explained what’d happened. He’d been shocked and insisted I take the rest of the week off paid to resolve the childcare issue.
In the meantime, I called the agency I’d hired Angela from and left a strong-worded voicemail. I’d deal with them first thing in the morning, and they’d better be ready. That fucking woman had been stealing food bought for my children and using it to control them. Harper had admitted sometimes they’d gone to bed without eating all day.
That made me angrier. Harper should have known she could speak to me, but ‘the fiasco’ wasn’t easy to shake off. Garry and Lin’s plot had lingering effects, and even though we’d been free for eighteen months, the kids still suffered. Of course, my actions with the leg of fucking lamb hadn’t helped matters. But we were slowly growing stronger; some days, the girls seemed almost back to their old selves.
The kettle whistled, making me jump, and I laughed. It’d belonged to my gran, and I loved the old-fashioned kettle you heated on a hob.
Carefully removing it, I turned the gas off and poured a calming cup of camomile tea. Not that I expected it to calm me down. Deep inside, I was raging, but I knew better than to show it to my children.
Any hint of anger caused them to regress, but they’d have to learn to handle outbursts eventually. Otherwise, they would become recluses. I needed to help the girls understand that someone could lose their cool but not hurt people around them. And while you should always seek a calm solution, tempers can be lost.
I winced at the image of the leg of lamb popping into my mind and shook my head. Of course, their witnessing didn’t help, but the therapist the girls were seeing weekly had assisted a lot. We’d moved here just over twelve months ago, fleeing our home because of the never-ending gossip and interference. Everyone had opinions, but only mine and the kids mattered.
Even Mom had waded in with my brother, preaching but not talking to me. They seemed to think they could control us and hadn’t liked it when I’d bucked against them.
Mom had threatened to take me to court because of the drugs I’d been tricked into taking, but my lawyer had soon pointed out a few home truths. Mom hadn’t liked them, but she feared being targeted by the media, so she’d become supportive over time. My brother was just an asshole. The moving state had been one of the best things I could do; it stopped them from interfering.
Of course, Dad was the opposite. He was adorable as sugar, and we were very close. Dad had been my advocate from day one of the fiasco and had stayed firmly on my side. I never understood how my parents had got together, but I was glad when they divorced.
Mom was into her high-powered job and the benefits it brought. Dad was quite happy in his corduroys and cardigan and pottering around in the garden—or reading one of his numerous texts/books. Dad was the typical absent-minded professor, but his classes were sought after because he was amicable and highly intelligent. He only taught a couple of days a week now.
And even better, Dad lived here, so I’d moved to Rapid City. The girls needed a gentleman, and Dad was certainly that. He’d dote and spoil them and hopefully show them what a real man looked like.
My mind flicked to Savage at that thought. He was clearly masculine and an alpha type, but he was probably a wham, bam, thank you, ma’am type of guy. Savage wasn’t for plain old waitress Grace. Not with my baggage. For now, my priorities were figuring out a babysitter for my babies and not losing my job.
Savage
I heard someone let themselves in downstairs and groaned; it was only ten o’clock, and I’d been in bed less than two hours. I refused to move even as booted feet hit my stairs.
“Whoever the hell it is, fuck off; I’ve had less than two hours of sleep,” I warned as the bedroom door opened.
“Get the hell up, lazy ass,” Gauntlet said.
“Screw you. I got home from work three hours ago. Take yourself and piss off,” I snapped, yanking the covers and pillows over my head.
There was a moment of silence. “Forgot you worked last night.”
“Fuck off,” I muttered and snuggled down deeper into my mattress.
I earned good money as a mechanic, and managing the funeral parlour at night, and refused to scrimp on luxuries such as a decent mattress. I slept intermittently through the night, but my sleep had been disturbed by three calls to collect bodies. Now I was grouchy and wanted my sleep.
“You gotta get up. Phoe needs you to do something,” Gauntlet said.
“Tell Phoe to come back when I’ve slept six hours. No offence, brother, the door is there; go fuckin’ through it and tell everyone to stay the fuck away.”
Gauntlet snorted, turned on his heel, and left. Relieved, I fell asleep, shoving aside the voice that warned me Phoe was up to something.
