“You really thought I wouldn’t find out?” Whipping my head around, I see Striker sitting on a chair, just like he was when I stumbled into his room. His eyes never leave mine as he stands, stalking towards me. “You thought you could keep it a secret forever?” I step back the closer he gets until I hit a wall. He’s standing in front of me. His hard, muscular body brushes against me. His hand clasps around my neck. Instincts take over as I claw at him to let go. Emily is out there, waiting for me. I need to get to her and get the hell out of here.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I try to speak through my small airway. “You have the wrong person.”
“Bullshit. I know that little girl out there is mine.” He squeezes harder.
I shake my head the best I can. “No. No. You’re wrong. My husband is her father.”
“Shut the fuck up, whore.” He brings my head forward and slams it with a loud thud on the wall, causing my vision to blur. “You’re fucking lying. That kid out there is mine. There’s no denying it.”
“No.” I gasp for air as his grip tightens more.
“You really think I’d forget you stumbling through my door ten years ago? This scared little girl who should never have been here in the first place. The same little girl who begged me to fuck her tight cunt harder.” He leans in closer. “And, boy, did I fuck your pussy raw. Tell me, does your husband fuck you as hard and as good as I did back then? I bet he doesn’t even get you wet.” He laughs and lets me go, causing me to fall to the ground on my knees. Rubbing my neck, I try to get my breathing under control, coughing and trying to forget the pain when I swallow.
“I’ll be going to see my daughter now. Tell her what a lying slut her mother is.”
“No!” I shout, squeezing my eyes closed and cringing at the pain in my throat. “Please, Striker. You can't keep me here forever.” I scramble to my feet.
He turns, only half his face lit up by the light outside the door. I can see the evil smirk on his face, much like the one he had plastered on ten years ago.
“Watch me.” The door begins to close.
“No.” I run for the door, rattling the handle, trying to open it, but it useless. It's locked. I bang my fist on the door. “Striker! Open the door!” I continue pounding the door. “Please.” Tears fall down my cheeks as I slide down the door. “Please,” I whisper.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here but the door begins to open and I see Striker walking in.
Standing, I start walking towards him. “Please, Striker. Let me go. Let us both go.”
He says nothing but continues to stalk towards me. I find myself backing up towards the wall. He begins to speak, his voice menacingly low.
“Trespassing on my club’s property ten years ago; strike one.” He holds up his pointer finger to indicate the number, walking closer to me. I step back when he steps forward. My heart thuds harder than when I ran track and field. “Sneaking out, taking one of my favorite killing knives; strike two. Coming into this clubhouse when you weren’t wanted.” My back hits the wall behind me as he closes the gap between us. My breathing comes out in short bursts, and my lungs struggle to catch a full breath. It's at this point I catch a glimpse of a large carving knife in his other hand.
“P...please, Striker.” My words come out barely above a whisper. “Please. Think of Emily. Would you want that on your conscience and the fear of Emily hating you after finding out you killed her mother?” I try to reason with him, but this seems to anger him more. He slams his hand to the side of my head; I turn my head and squeeze my eyes closed. I feel his breath tickle the shell of my ear.
“She won't find out. She'll simply think Mommy ran off.”
“No. She wouldn't believe you.” My heart breaks just thinking about the lies he will tell my beautiful girl just to get rid of the good in her. Instead of being sad, I let anger consume me. “I'll kill you before you even think of telling MY daughter a pack of lies. Don't think I don't have the guts or the ability to do it. Emily only met you because you kidnapped us.” His blues eyes darken, and before I know it, his hand is around my neck again, squeezing hard, but not hard enough to stop me speaking the next words. “And you'll never be Emily's father,” I sneer. “She has a father, someone who has been there from day one. Been to every dance recital, every hospital appointment.”
“SHUT UP!” he shouts, squeezing harder. “Keeping my daughter from me.” My air supply is getting smaller. I start seeing black dots in front of my eyes. “STRIKE THREE.” That’s the last I hear before pain and darkness consumes me.
Chapter Ten
Striker
“What the hell have you done?” Dad looks between me and Daria lying on my bed. “Please tell me you haven’t…”
He doesn’t finish the sentence. I sit on my chair in the corner of my room, holding the knife, twisting the pointed end on the tip of my finger until blood drips off the edge. I stare at Daria as Dad walks over to check on her. His hand goes to her neck to check her pulse.
“She’s not dead,” I mutter.
“She barely has a pulse, Striker!” he snarls, popping his head out of the door. “Doc, get your ass in here, NOW!”
I hear a stampede of footsteps. Noisy bastards. Doc pushes through the brothers.
“Help this young girl. I don’t need another dead girl on my hands!” I don’t look away from Daria, the mother of my kid.
The lying bitch, lying there, barely breathing. Her words come back to me; You’ll never be Emily’s father. Bitch thinks she can keep my daughter away from me, she can think again. I’ll finish the job the next time she tries. My hand grips the handle of my knife so hard my knuckles turn white, my breathing becoming ragged. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m on my feet, marching towards my bed, towards Daria’s body, pushing Doc and Dad out of the way. Just as I lean down to whisper in her ear, her eyes open staring into mine, blue to brown. I expected to see fear when she sees me, but I see defiance, anger, and desire. I still have the knife in my hand, and I bring it up towards her neck. She swallows, but still no fear shows in her eyes. Pressing the blade into her neck, I lean down to her ear.
“You try to keep my kid from me again, I will slit your pretty little neck.”
“Do it. I dare you.”
Pressing the knife farther in, I feel the blade pierce the skin. We’re lost in each other’s eyes until my dad’s voice interrupts us.
“Striker, my office, now!” He pulls my arm away. The blade slices across her neck lightly, but enough to cause blood to trickle down her skin. I feel my cock harden at her defiance and seeing the red liquid dripping down her neck.
Following my father to his office, Emily spots me.
“Striker!” she screeches, jumping from the bar stool. Her legs move quickly across the floor, and she wears the biggest smile on her face. Long black hair, like mine, and the brightest blue eyes I have ever seen that sparkle brighter than the sun, moon, and stars. She’s my child. I know she is. She’s a carbon copy of me. The only features she has from her mother are the button nose and pouty lips. “Where’s, Mom?”
“Your mom needs some rest. She’ll be out soon,” my dad pipes up when I don’t say anything. She nods.
“Emily? Where’s your mom?” Looking up, I see the ice princess herself; Jessica. I give her a hard stare but, like Daria, she’s not fazed by it. Who are these girls? “Emily?”
“Mom was picking up her car, but she’s not come back yet.” Emily looks over at me and Dad. “Striker said she needed rest.”
“Where’s Daria, Barron?” Jess snaps at us, completely ignoring me.
“She fainted. We have someone checking on her.”
Jess narrows her eyes on me.
“Aunt Jess? Can I see Mom?” Emily’s voice wobbles. My chest tightens.
“Soon, sweetie.”
Nico looks at me with concern in his eyes. I give him a slight nod and continue to follow my dad to his office. He s
lams his fist down on his desk.
“How can you be so fucking stupid, Striker?” He doesn’t look around. He keeps his head down, fists clenched on top of his desk. “What the hell were you thinking? Kidnapping a mother and her child, locking that poor girl up in your room, choking her almost to the point of death? To top it off, you try to slit her fucking throat in front of everyone. What has she ever done to you?”
Dad still doesn’t know about what happened ten years ago. He was away on a run when we decided to have a party. Shaking the memory from my head, I look to my red-faced father. Say what you want about Barron Xanders, he may be a ruthless biker, but he has a heart. Something I don’t have.
“Answer the fucking question, Striker!” he shouts.
“She kept my fucking kid from me!” I shout at him. I see the look of pure shock flash across his face. “That’s right, Pop. That little girl out there is my daughter. Your granddaughter! The bitch in my bed, that I almost killed, is a girl I fucked ten years ago right here in this clubhouse.”
“Was she of age?” His voice is hoarse with shock. I look down. “Striker, was she of age?” He grabs my shoulders, shaking me. I stand up to my full height. I have a good five inches on him. “Striker, will you answer the fucking question? Was she of age or are we going to have to deal with an angry father?”
“She was of age… in some parts of Europe.”
“For fuck’s sake, Striker! How could you be so fucking stupid? Have I taught you nothing?”
“You haven’t been there for me, Pop. Ever since Mom died, you’ve pushed me further and further away. Like it’s my fucking fault she took all those pills and took the easy option! You never once asked how I was feeling about the whole situation. Never once asked how I was coping with a junkie mother that OD’d. You left me with the other brothers! Fran and Lauren, they helped me while you were off fucking your way through all the whores! I guess history is starting to repeat itself, right?” With my piece said, I storm out just in time to see Daria walking out of the door with Emily in tow.
“Where are you going?” I shout. Daria stops mid-step, not turning. I stand beside her; she’s staring straight ahead.
“We have to go home. Emily starts back at school in the morning.” There’s no emotion from her words.
“We’re going to the store for supplies first, right, Mom?”
“That’s right, sweetie. Let’s get going.” She starts walking further out of the door. I grab her wrist to stop her.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I grind out, my grip tightening around her slender wrist.
“You going to stop us?” She looks me in the eye. Jess comes to stand by her, like she’s going to protect her from me. “Jess, can you take Emily to the car?” Jess nods and motions to Emily to follow her, which she does. My blood is like lava through my veins, ready to explode. I shout at Daria.
“I’m her fucking father, Daria!”
Her eyes widen at the words that leave my mouth.
“What?” Emily’s voice hits my ears. “You’re my dad?”
Looking up, I see shocked registering on her face.
“Sweetie, go with Aunt Jess. We’ll discuss this at home.”
“You said Dad was away on business.”
“He is, sweetie.”
“Why did Striker say he’s my dad?”
“Emily Evelyn Jefferson, we need to get home. Stop with the questions. Do you hear me?” Daria stops and shouts at Emily.
Emily’s face crumbles and her eyes fill with tears. “Sorry, Mom.” She sniffs. I want to slap the shit out of Daria for making her cry.
She’s her mother, dickhead.
“Jess, can you please take her into the car?” Daria asks Jess. Once Emily is out of earshot, she lets rip at me. “You’re a fucking dick, you know that? Her dad is on a business trip. The dad that brought her up when you were nowhere to be seen. The father that helped me through the most difficult of times. You were here, fucking everything and anything. You’re not worthy to be her father!”
“I wasn’t there because I didn’t know she fucking existed. This pussy-whipped asshole that she calls dad stops right now. He’s no longer her father. I am. I’m her fucking dad and the only one she’ll ever need!” I snap, standing in front of her.
“Whatever, Striker. You should have killed me when you had the chance, because you will never see her again.”
“Wrong. I will be seeing her again and she’ll be here for good. It’s you who will never see her again.”
“Stay the hell away from us.” She turns her back to me and storms towards her car.
“We’ll see, sweetness. We’ll see,” I whisper to the wind.
I will see my daughter again and she’ll know the true identity of her father. Me. This is where she belongs.
Chapter Eleven
Daria
That dickhead, I can’t believe he just said that in front of Emily. How the hell am I going to get out of this?
“Mom?” Emily speaks when I enter the car. “Why did Striker say he was my dad?”
“Emily, not now.” I sigh as Jess drives.
“But, mom…” She tries again.
“Emily, I said not now.” Damn you, Striker. Damn you to hell. I sigh before I speak again. “He’s lying, princess.”
“But why? Why would he lie?” Her vice small and confused.
“Because he’s an asshole,” Jess mutters under her breath. She gives me a sideways glance and shrugs when I glare at her.
“I don’t know, but your dad is in New York right now and he’ll be home in a couple of days.” She nods and I hope that that’s the end of the questions or now.
***
Walking around Walmart, getting supplies for Emily’s first day back at school, I can feel Jess’s eyes on me.
“Not now, Jess.” I sigh, picking up some pencils. After I snapped at Emily the car ride was quiet. We dropped a sulking Emily off at Jess’s parents’ house. They were more than happy to watch her while I cleared my head. I left before I got a barrage of questions from Alex about the bandage around my neck.
“Daria, you need to tell Emily the truth.” I look at my best friend in shock. She’s supposed to be on my side. “Don’t. I am on your side. You know I will always be by your side. But this is Emily. She has a right to know who her father is.”
I know she’s right. I just can’t get past the fact that he tried to kill me. He tried to slit my throat. I look down. The whole situation comes like a wrecking ball and hits me about how I nearly died this afternoon. How I could have never seen my daughter again. My breathing becomes shallower, my heart races faster, and I fear I may be having a heart attack. The room spins, and my hands feel clammy.
“Daria, breathe for me. In through the nose and breathe out slowly.” Jess talks me through, calming me down a little. “I knew you shouldn’t have come here. You should be at home, resting.”
Jess tried to get me to stay home and take it easy because she saw how wiped I was, but I promised Emily we would get her supplies today. I manage to keep my emotions in check. Enough to get us out of the store to the safety of my car where I let out the tears and the fear I had been holding onto. The tears and screams rip through me as my best friend holds me, rocking me back and forward, trying to calm me.
“He nearly killed me. I could be dead right now, Jess. He tried to choke the life out of me then nearly slit my throat. I goaded him. I used all those acting classes Denise made me go to to cover how scared I was. Truth is, I was petrified. Scared I would never see my little Emily ever again.”
“I’ll kill him,” she growls, her eyes ablaze with anger. If this was a cartoon, I’m sure flames would be flickering in her eyes right now.
“No, Jess. Stay out of it. Please.”
“Daria, have you learnt nothing with being my best friend? You hurt, I hurt. You cry, I cry. If someone hurts my best friend, I’m going to cut a bitch. My mom taught me how to ha
ndle myself. Even my Dad is scared of my mom.” She giggles. I let out a little laugh at the thought of Tyler being scared of Alex. She’s like a foot smaller than he is. “See? I can handle that big bully.”
“Jess, I love you like a sister and I love everything you have done for me in the past, but please. Please can you just let me do this on my own?”
“Okay.” She holds up her hands, relenting. “I’ll leave you to it, but if I see any more bruises or I even get a hint of him disrespecting you, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
“Oh, I believe you.” I giggle. “But seriously, I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me in the past.”
“Hey, no more tears in Walmart parking lot.” She looks around. “But I would do anything for you and Emily, you know that.” She sighs, wiping my tears away.
We walk back into the store a little calmer.
“Now, what would princess want?” She turns to look at the stationery, picking up a mermaid and unicorn pencil case. I love her; she always makes me smile when I don’t want to.
***
Back at Jess’s house, we all sit down to watch TV.
“That’s Emily fast asleep.” Tyler sighs, sitting down next to Alex.
“Thank you all so much for all you do for us.” My voice almost fails me. I’ve cried too many tears today; I don’t want to cry anymore. I look at their faces, and they all smile at me.
“You’re like another daughter to Ty and me, Daria.” Alex smiles sweetly at me. “Emily is like our granddaughter. We love you both. If there’s anything, and I mean anything, we can do, we will.”
We’re all watching a movie but I can’t concentrate on it. All I can think is how I nearly died today at the hands of Striker. Tears fill my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I try to keep them at bay, hoping no one notices, but they do. Looking to my left, I see Ty looking at me with an expression I can’t decipher.
“Daria, you want to come with me for a chat?” Jess and Alex look at him and he conveys a message that they seem to understand. “I’m not really into this movie and could do with some air and a coffee.”
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