“I know.” I sigh. “I need you to come get Emily so I can call the repair shop to get it fixed.”
“I'm on my way.” He hangs up and I dial my usual garage.
After calling all the garages I have in my cell for repairs, I soon find they're all closing early for the Fourth of July holiday.
“Seriously?” My head hits the headrest. “I have my nine-year-old daughter here. I need to get home,” I beg the guy on the other end of the phone.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. The only garage open is Xanders’.”
Sighing in defeat, I jot down the number and give them a call after I hang up with the other guy. Relief escapes me when they say someone will be out as soon as they can. Looking in the rearview mirror, I see Jake’s car pull up and he climbs out, smiling. He really is a handsome guy; tall, dark brown hair, grey eyes, chiseled jaw. Everything that would make a woman throw her panties down, bend over, and tell him to fuck her to death. Not me. I mean, we try to make it as normal as possible, but it’s not like when we first had sex. Now it’s just a means to an end, to take the edge off. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. I really do. Just not like a wife should love her husband. But he’s there for me and Emily. He was willing to give up everything for us, and for that, I will be forever grateful.
“What are you smiling for?” He grins, looking down at me. “Your car is bust.”
“Just thinking about how lucky we are to have you.” I shrug. “I don’t tell you as often as I should just how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate everything you do for Emily and me.” I circle my arms around his waist and hug him tight.
“If you don’t know by now that I love you and Emily with every fiber of my being then I’m clearly doing something wrong.” He gives me a cheeky, boyish grin. “I’ve always loved you, Dee. You know this. I would do anything for you.”
“I know.” I look down at my wedding ring and gorgeous engagement ring. I take a deep breath before I start again. “I just wish it was different and it worked out the way I dreamt about the night at the ball.”
He takes my hands in his. “Me too.” He kisses my head. “But that’s the past. Let’s look to the future. We shouldn’t let the past dictate our future, Daria.” He looks me deep in the eye, leans down, and kisses me on the lips.
I’m transported back to our wedding day. The look he gave me as I walked down the aisle alone. I had always imagined my dad giving me away, but he refused to even acknowledge the wedding was happening. Tears fell continuously from the moment I put the dress on, right up until his dad met me half way. Taking my face in his hands, he wordlessly said that everything would be okay. He kissed my cheek, smiling down at me, then linked my arm into his and walked me down the rest of the way to meet Jake.
We were married at eighteen, all because I couldn’t handle my alcohol and let a man, a stranger, fuck me bare. His mom let slip when she was drunk and started ranting at me after I told her I didn’t want her in the room when I was having Emily. She told me how her plan had worked and that I should be grateful about it, otherwise I’d be on the street with my brat. Little did she know, Mr. Jefferson heard every word, threw her out, and divorced her. He gave Jake his inheritance early as an apology, which allowed us to buy our family home. He still, ten years later, apologizes for not seeing what she was up to and for letting the wedding happen. He said it should have been our decision.
As for my parents, I haven’t heard from them since Dad came over the night Emily was born. Mom still wanted nothing to do with me, and she, apparently, didn’t know he came to visit me.
I can’t just forgive him. Mr. Jefferson sees him often. He gives him updates with my permission, and Jake had to convince me to do even that. He said he has a right to know his granddaughter. He’ll never know her, not unless she wants to know him, which cuts me deep, because he should be in her life. He should have been in her life the day she was born, and even before that.
Jake interrupts my musings by letting me go and leaning down to speak to Emily. “Right, Princess Emily. We have to switch chariots. Mommy’s dragon has collapsed.” I playfully hit his shoulder. He turns and winks at me, grinning like a fool.
“Dad, I’m not a baby anymore.” Emily rolls her eyes, getting out of the car.
“Well, okay then.” He looks at me, shaking his head. “I have a day off tomorrow. We’ll go car shopping.”
“No, Jake. This old beast will be fine.”
“Dee, come on.” He tilts his head to the side and laughs. “This car has cost more than our house in repairs the past year alone.” He’s right, but this car was my grandpa’s. Dad gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. “Look, we don’t have to get rid of it. We’ll keep it and fix it up. But please let me buy you a more reliable car for when I’m away on business.”
“Fine.” I sigh, relenting.
He kisses my head again. “Good. This one can spend time with Grandpa.” He looks to Emily who doesn’t look up from her cell. “I’ll see you back at the house.” He leaves with Emily.
Watching them drive off, I can’t help the smile that graces my lips.
***
After around an hour of waiting, I finally see a recovery truck pull up beside me. But nothing could prepare me for who steps out of the van and walks towards me.
Striker.
He walks towards me with a purpose. My heart is beating so hard and fast, I fear I may have a heart attack right here and now. Would he save me if I did? Give me the kiss of life?
I know where I would like him to put those beard-covered lips.
Where the hell did that come from? The heat’s obviously getting to me.
“Evening, Ma’am.” His voice is gruff, like he doesn’t want to be here. Hell, I’d rather be in a room full of people chewing loudly than be stuck here. Just the thought of that sends shivers down my spine and makes my blood boil. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Umm.” I clear my throat. “Uh, I’m not sure.” I stammer. “I was just driving back from my daughter’s swimming class, a light flashed up, and then the engine cut out.”
He says nothing and pops the hood. Questions run through my head. Does he remember me? Does he know about Emily? Did the guy at the front of the compound nine years ago tell him I came by to talk to him? Does he know it was me who fought his corner in his court case eight years ago?
“Your engine’s shot.” He brings me out of my musings. Standing straighter, I move my hair to one side and look in at the engine. I have no clue what the hell I’m looking for, but shit.
“Impossible. I only got a new one three months ago.” He looks at me like I’m kidding. I’m not; it wasn’t cheap either.
He smiles down at me and laughs a little. What the hell is he laughing at? This isn’t funny.
“I’m sorry, little lady. You’ve been fucked over. The engine is as old as you are.”
“You’re fucking with me, right?” I let out a mirthless laugh. “This is some kind of mechanic joke. Am I being set up?” When he shrugs, still smiling, I can see he’s telling the truth. “This cost me a fortune.” My voice is high-pitched. I pull out my cell to call Jake.
“Jake, the engine is bust again.”
“We’ll replace it,” he says simply, like we have a money tree in the yard.
“We only just replaced it, J! The guy said the engine we had replaced is as old as me.” I leave out the fact that said guy is Emily’s real dad.
“How does he know how old you are?”
“What? Jake, focus. What will we do?” I really don’t want to sell it, but if it’s just going to keep breaking down then I will have to.
“Put him on the phone,” he says. I hand my cell over, our fingers brushing. I feel an electric charge and the air between us changes.
“For a classic 1968 Mustang? We’d have to search for it, but it won’t be cheap.”
“No, we can’t afford another new engine, Jake!” I shout, leaning up close
to my cell that’s attached to Striker’s ear. My mouth is close to his, and my body is pressed against him. My breath hitches, and my stomach feels like there’s a lead balloon in there. My face heats. I have to turn away.
“We’ll have your car ready in a few weeks. We need to order parts in.” He hands me my cell. Damn you, Jake.
I shoot off a quick message to Jess asking her if she could come and pick me up, she was quick to reply with a yes.
“Can I give you ride?” By the look on his face, he doesn’t want to take me anywhere.
“My friend is coming to pick me up. Thank you anyway.” He doesn’t say anything and starts to load my car onto the back of the recovery van.
Twenty minutes later, I sigh with relief when I see Jess park up.
“I told you that hunk of junk would give up eventually.” She laughs, walking over to me. I roll my eyes at her.
“I just need a signature.” Striker thrusts a clipboard in front of me. I sign and put contact details on for them to contact me when the car is ready.
“Striker, good to see you out.” Jess sneers, looking him up and down.
“Jailbait.” He nods, taking the clipboard from me. Jess growls at him. “We’ll call you when your car is ready.” He walks away.
Climbing into the passenger side of Jess’ car, I can feel her scrutinizing eyes on me. “Stop staring at me and drive me home.” I sigh.
“No. I want to know why you were out here with Moody McMoodface.”
“Moody McMoodface?” I giggle. “My car’s bust, like you clearly saw. The only garage open was the one the Demon Disciples own.” I throw my head back to look at the roof of her car. “Do you think he knows?”
“Who knows?” She shrugs, turning the engine on, and starts driving.
“Has Nico said anything?” She stays silent. “You guys had a fight?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I keep quiet. That was most silent car ride I have ever had with Jessica. I want to quiz her on what’s gone on, but I know Jess, and she’ll tell me when she’s ready.
“Thanks for the ride.” When she says nothing, I touch her hand. “Jess, is everything okay? You know, whatever it is, you can tell me, right?”
“He asked me to marry him.” she blurts out after a beat of more silence. My eyes widen a fraction. She turns to look at me. “He fucked a whore at Striker and Blaze’s welcome home party, then he asked me to marry him.”
“He cheated?” I gasp. I thought he was one of the good guys.
“No. We were on a break.” She sniffs, wiping her eyes. They’ve been on and off for years and the last break was caused by Nico being jealous of her co-worker. Nico tried to warn her he was up to something. Jess couldn’t deal with how he didn’t trust her so she ended it. Turned out Nico was right, and the coworker was a total ass clown, wanting nothing more than to get in her panties.
“You were on a break. What’s the problem?” I ask, confused at what the big deal is.
“The problem is that he fucked a dirty, disgusting whore. Now he wants to come back to me because he realized I’m a thousand times better woman than they ever will be.”
“Did he actually say he fucked a whore?”
“Doesn’t have to. I know it happened.”
“He didn’t confess, so how do you know?” I tilt my head slightly. “Were you there? Did you witness it?”
“I have my sources.” She looks away from me.
“Jess, who told you?”
“Blaze.” She sighs.
Blaze. That fucker.
“Have you asked Nico? Heard it from the horse’s mouth?”
“No. I didn’t get a chance to. He came over with his mom for July fourth dinner and asked me to marry him. Then you called. I just had to get away.”
“You left him with your family? Waiting for an answer?” My mouth pops open in shock. “Jessica. You need to go home and have an open and honest conversation with him about what you got told and who told you.” Blaze has a lot to answer for. “As for the proposal, do you love him?”
“With every bone in my body.” She doesn’t hesitate. “But…”
“No buts, Jess. You love him. He could be innocent. You’re punishing him for a crime he probably never committed. If you want my opinion, I don’t believe he did anything.” She rolls her eyes. “I know you think I’m just this hopeless romantic who reads too much and watches too many romance movies. But I believe you two are meant for each other. The way he looks at you and you him. I see nothing but love, Jess.”
She nods. “I just love him so much, Daria, you know?” She sniffs, wiping her eyes. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good. The next time I see you, I want to see a huge-ass rock your finger.” I hug her. “I’ll call you later. That’s if you’re not too busy.” I wink at her, wiggling my eyebrows. “Love you.” I climb out of the car and wave her off.
Walking in the front door, I smile when I see Jake waiting with flowers in hand and a grin on his face.
I need to work harder to make this work. I need to make this right, the way it should be. The way it should have always been.
Chapter Nine
Daria
It’s been four weeks, and the garage called me to go in to discuss what’s happening with my car and give an estimated cost. Why they couldn’t just tell me over the phone, I’ll never know.
After picking Emily up from dance class, we make our way to the garage. My heart slams against my chest when I get flashbacks of seventeen-year-old me running from here.
“Hi. I'm here to pick up my car?” I manage to calm myself enough to talk to the guy behind the desk. He doesn’t even look up at me. Rude. I’ve waited almost a month to get my car back. “Excuse me.” I clear my throat and he eventually looks up. I smile sickly sweet at him. “I’m here to discuss my car. Daria Jefferson.” Again, he just gets up and walks away without saying a word.
“Well, he wasn't very nice.” Emily folds her arms over her chest, looking annoyed. “He was so rude.”
“Some people just don't have manners, sweetheart.”
“Can I help you, ma'am?” An older woman I recognize from the first time I was here ten years ago greets us. The other man is clearly not coming back.
“I'm here to speak to someone about my car.” She looks at me—I mean really looks at me. She stares at me like she’s seen a ghost. She shakes her head clear of whatever she had going on there and places her customer service smile on her face.
“Sure, sweetie. What's the name?”
“Daria Jefferson.” Her face changes when she looks down at Emily. The smile disappears from her face as her eyes widen.
“Everything all right?”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head again. “I'm fine, dear.” She picks up the phone and dials a number. “Mrs. Jefferson is here to discuss her car.” She pauses, listening to the voice at the other end, I presume. “Yes.” She smiles and hangs up. “Someone will be here soon. In the meantime, why don't you follow me and we'll get you a coffee while you wait. Would you like an ice cream?” She looks down at Emily. Emily's eyes light up at the mention of ice cream. She may be nine years old, but she turns into a little kid when you mention ice cream.
“Mom, can I?” She looks up at me with those big sparkling blue eyes. “Please?”
“Yes, but you can’t tell Dad, okay?” I hate asking her to lie, but it’s almost dinner time and Jake wanted to make us a slap up meal as he always does when he’s been away on business. Emily jumps up and down, clapping her hands, clearly happy she’s getting ice cream before dinner.
My cell buzzes with an incoming call as we make our way through to an area that can only be described as a bar.
“Hey.” Jake sighs through the receiver. “I’m really sorry to do this, but there’s an emergency at the New York branch. I need to go and sort it out.”
“When do you leave?”
“Today.
In an hour, to be exact. I’m sorry, baby. I love you.”
“It’s fine. Emily and I will have a movie night. Safe journey. Call me when you land.”
“I will. See you when I get back.” With that, he hangs up.
“Was that Dad?” Emily asks.
“Yeah, sweetie. He’s had to go away, so it’s just you and me tonight.” Her face crumbles as she scoops up more ice cream.
“Again.” My heart hurts for her. She just seems to get her dad back then he’s gone again.
“I know, baby. We have fun though, right?” I nudge her.
“I guess. I just wanted Dad to be here more than a week.” The sadness in her voice cuts me like a knife. I pull her towards me and hug her tightly. Seeing her hurt this badly, what would she be like if she found out that Jake isn’t her real dad? That the man who gave her the ice cream was her real dad. It would crush her.
“Mrs. Jefferson?” A young man, around fifteen, maybe sixteen, holding a clipboard walks out towards me. Standing, I walk towards him. “Follow me.”
“Come on, baby.” I gesture to Emily to come with me.
“Kids aren’t permitted in the main garage part,” the boy says quickly. I narrow my eyes on him. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Company policy.” He shrugs.
“Baby, you stay here with…” I look to the lady who greeted us at the front, waiting for her to tell me her name. I know it, I just can’t let on that I remember how kind she was to me. Plus the fact I threatened and pulled knife on her husband.
“Fran, sweetie.” She smiles widely.
“I won’t be long. Any problems, call Aunt Jess,” I whisper to her and kiss her head.
“Where’s my car?” I ask, my heart rate spiking. He says nothing until we reach a door. A door I recognize from almost ten years ago. I don’t have time to do or say anything; he pushes me inside.
Finding my feet, I steady myself, turning to look at him. He looks at me sadly and mouths sorry before closing the door.
Three Strikes (Demons Disciples MC Book 1) Page 6
