Protector: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Four

by Myers, Shannon

  There was no fear in his eyes, only lust for a fight, as he shoved me back. It was like looking into a mirror. I straightened my shirt and rubbed at my face, wondering why I was wasting my breath.

  He was twenty-seven now.

  The time for talking sense into him had come and gone years ago.

  “You’re damn right I’m not putting the club first. Wanna know why? Because I work for the city, asshole. My loyalty lies with the police department, first and foremost. If your club goes against that; well, then guess what, fucker? You’re going against me too. You’re gonna need more than one detective to keep all that illegal shit buried. Damn, I don’t know that even an entire police force could help you now.”

  I ran a hand over my face and cracked my knuckles, resisting the urge to lay hands on him. Whatever it was Celia had imagined happening between us, I was pretty damn sure this wasn’t it. “Is that right? So, as long as the club was keepin’ your illegal shit buried it was fine, but you’re not willing to return the favor?”

  Mikey’s eyes narrowed in defiance before he grabbed another liquor bottle, taunting me as he tipped it back with a grin. “I’m out, Grey. I’ve got no interest in covering up for you anymore.”

  He was my son.

  I loved him.

  I was gonna send him screaming to the Reaper.

  I lowered myself into the chair and retrieved my cigar from the small table, popping it into the corner of my mouth like Kate had done with her pacifier as a baby. “You’re done? No talkin’ you into staying?”

  He grinned down at me condescendingly. “Nope. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s a redhead waiting for me downstairs. And I’d really like it if you weren’t here by the time we make it back upstairs.”

  I wanted to jump up from the chair again and throttle the shit out of him, but I wasn’t my old man. I refused to lay a hand on my kid when I was angry.

  Instead, I leaned back and pasted a fake smile onto my face. “Already found yourself another one. Well, it never takes long with you, does it? Imagine how good you could be if you didn’t think with your dick all the time.”

  He preened in front of the mirror like a goddamn peacock before responding with a terse, “Fuck you, Grey.”

  I laughed in spite of myself. “Yeah, that’s about what I expected. Just remember, I came here as a warning, and I’m not known for repeatin’ myself.”

  The kid had some brass balls on him. I’d fucked with Wolverine on occasion, but never outright defied him, knowing it was a good way to end up on the wrong side of a bullet.

  As if punctuating his complete disregard for the club and all that had been done for him, the motherfucker rolled his eyes and walked away. “Whatever you say, Grey. Whatever you say.”

  The sound of the door slamming shut behind him had me jumping up, ready to lay into him again.

  Fuck the consequences.

  I no longer gave a fuck how long it took. I was going to beat sense into his thick skull.

  The elevator doors closed just as I got to them, and I punched the metal with a low growl. “Fuck.”

  “Sounds like that went well.”

  I turned to see Celia leaned against the wall, fighting to keep a straight face.

  “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him,” I snapped. “Don’t try to talk me out of it!”

  She patted my arm softly, no longer fighting the grin that was stretching across her face. “Welcome to parenthood—”

  “No,” I cut her off. “Don’t give me that welcome to parenthood bullshit. Kid outright defied me, Celia. Did it with a fuckin’ smile on his face too. Little shit suddenly thinks he knows more than me as if he’s been runnin’ the show this entire goddamn time!”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, she led me into the elevator, deadpanning, “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you.”

  “Wait,” I said, just as the doors closed. “This shit is normal? They all act like assholes?”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid so—”

  “Why the fuck are you smilin’ at me like that?”

  Celia tried and failed to move her mouth into a solemn line. “I’m not—”

  “You are. You think this shit is funny? Because I gotta be honest with ya, princess. He rolls over on the club, and we’re all in for a world of hurt.”

  “Jamie, you’ve never had to deal with a rebellious child. The closest I think you came was when Mikey was eleven, but even then, he went home, and it was no longer your problem. And that’s not the reason I was smiling… well, it was partly—”

  “You gonna enlighten me or just keep pointing out how I wasn’t a real parent?” I growled.

  “I’m not telling you that you weren’t a real parent!”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling my attention to the deep v of her dress. Momentarily distracted with thoughts of hiking up her skirt and fucking her up against the elevator wall, I was pulled back into the argument with a muttered, “Jesus Christ, Jamie. Focus.”

  “Oh, I am.”

  She swatted my arm. “I’m serious. I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. It’s just that all children push back to see what they can get away with. They’re impulsive—”

  “He’s twenty-seven,” I noted dryly.

  “Exactly.” She began ticking points off on her fingers. “They’re impulsive, prone to emotional outbursts, and just generally looking for a way to outsmart their parents.”

  Holy shit.

  “You mean we have to deal with this the rest of our lives?”

  She pursed her lips. “Well, when they become adults, they typically begin cleaning up their own messes. Look at Kate.”

  “So, you’re sayin’ our twenty-year-old is an adult, but our twenty-seven-year-old ain’t? I’m confused.”

  “I’m saying that one of them is constantly testing the limits, and the other is holding down a job while taking college classes and checking in on her little sister. Take from that what you will.”

  He hadn’t had an easy childhood.

  Hell, none of us had.

  I’d seen things no kid should ever be forced to witness. Celia had been ripped away from her parents. Mikey hadn’t lived in fear of the monster under the bed, but the one who walked through the front door every night.

  For the longest time, it had eaten at me that I hadn’t been able to give him the same life as the girls. Every time I’d tucked them in and read a bedtime story was just another reminder of what my son was going without.

  I didn’t see the damage I’d caused until later though. My girls hadn’t been given some unfair advantage. They’d been forced to grow up thinking their father was dead. Sure, Angel had stepped up and filled the role as best he could, but he wasn’t their daddy.

  Kate had lost the first man she’d ever loved at seven, but instead of seeking that connection out in another man, she’d closed herself off. Maybe deep down she knew that nothing good would ever last. Maybe she didn’t want to go through the heartache of losing someone again.

  It wasn’t as if I’d ever be able to ask her the reason.

  Dakota had gone the opposite direction, completely immersing herself in her comics, and setting the bar so damn high that no man would ever measure up unless he was Thor himself.

  “Celia?” I asked as the doors opened into the lobby. “How do you handle the one who still acts like a kid?”

  “Easy.” The smile returned to her face. “You remind them of who the parent is.”

  Slim and Lou stood by the front doors, practically bouncing with excitement.

  “Can you believe she said yes?” Slim asked, bumping me with his elbow.

  “Who said yes?”

  “I did.” Celia grinned up at me, looking like a cat who’d just caught a canary.

  “Said yes to what?” I frowned.

  Something flashed in Slim’s eyes, and he glanced around before wrapping an arm around my shoulders and lowering his voice. “What we were talkin’ about upstairs. I told her sh
e didn’t seem like the type, but she said she’d wanted to try it for a while now but wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

  I jerked away, narrowing my eyes at Celia. “She did, did she?”

  “Yeah,” he stated proudly. “I told her it was your idea in the first place. Now, I thought it’d be better if we did it down by the beach. Away from all the strait-laced assholes. What do you say?”

  I took in his shit-eating grin and the hopeful look in her eyes. My son-of-a-bitch best friend had just talked my wife into an orgy.

  After I finished with Mikey, I was coming for him next.

  “Over my dead body,” I said firmly, and Lou’s eyes widened in surprise.

  “You’re really going to deny her this experience? Even John let me give it a go—how old was David then? Three? Four? It felt like we were teenagers again; sneaking around in the backyard, praying we didn’t get caught.”

  I held up my hand. “What the fuck? You did it in the backyard while your son was sleeping inside? And now you wanna do it on the beach? You never considered doin’ it in a bedroom?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s a good way to get kicked out of the hotel,” Louisa said with a frown. “Not to mention the smell it would leave behind. Pretty sure you’d be on the hook for replacing all the furniture in the room as well.”

  “The smell?” I questioned, much louder than I’d meant to. “What the fuck are you guys doin’? I ain’t replaced shit at the clubhouse, and people do it there all the fuckin’ time. This is what you want to do, Celia?”

  Slim fought to hold it together before leaning over, with his hands on his knees. “Jesus fuck, your face,” he said through a wheeze of laughter.

  Celia looked between the two of us before asking, “Wait, what is it you two were talking about upstairs?”

  “He thought—” Slim’s hand went to his throat as he forced out, “Thought we were gonna have an… orgy!” His chuckles turned to cackling, and he swiped at the tears on his cheeks.

  Celia’s eyebrows disappeared under her hair. “You what?” she hissed at me. “I’m not doing that!”

  “Damn right you’re not doin’ that,” I snapped back. “It’s why I said over my dead body!”

  Lou brought a hand up over her mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter. “John, really? You’re too old to be acting like this!”

  “Oh, too old?” He asked with a half shrug. “Not what you said to me this mornin’, Louisa. If I’m rememberin’ it right, you wanted to know how I had so much stamina. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumbled when a flush crept up her throat. “Anyone care to tell me what it is we’re doin’ down here?”

  Celia pushed past me and through the front doors. “We’re going down to the beach to get…” She glanced around before mouthing, “high.”

  The tension left my body, and I followed her out with a relieved sigh. “Thank Christ, princess. Thought I was gonna have to take Slim out—”

  “Fucker…” Slim slung his arm around my shoulders as we crossed the highway. “You name one time when you’ve bested me. One.”

  Celia linked arms with Lou as they made their way down the seawall before looking back at me. “I can’t believe you thought I wanted to do… that.”

  “I can’t believe you thought I’d be pissed about you wantin’ to smoke. Why the fuck would I care?”

  Her gaze softened, and she let go of Lou to jog back to where I stood under the streetlight while they walked on ahead. “You just worked so hard to get clean, I didn’t want to trigger something by asking.”

  Weed hadn’t ever been a drug that left me fucked up, but when I decided to get clean, I did it cold turkey and without a crutch to lessen the withdrawals.

  “That explains your guilty smile in the elevator,” I said with a grin. “Don’t worry about me. Do what you want, and I’ll be right here to make sure you’re safe.”

  She moved as if to kiss me before freezing. “Why do you smell like a cigar?”

  Fuck.

  In a perfect world, Mikey would’ve listened to reason, and I would’ve had time to run back to the room and gargle with mouthwash.

  “I, uh, I smoked one while I was waitin’ in Mikey’s room earlier,” I admitted. “Didn’t plan on runnin’ into you so soon after or I would’ve freshened up. I’m sorry, darlin’.”

  Celia shook her head and leaned in until her mouth was within inches of mine, taking me by surprise. “It’s not like you haven’t smoked one in front of me before—”

  “I know what it does to you. Believe me, I ain’t tryin’ to—”

  She silenced me with a soft kiss before pulling away again. “Hey, Jamie?”

  “Yeah?” I answered softly.

  The outer corners of her eyes crinkled as she grinned, and it struck me how far we’d come in a decade. I was sober, and my girl was looking up at me like she had that day in the record store.

  I’d do whatever it took to keep that smile on her face the rest of our lives.

  Celia took my lower lip between her teeth, nipping lightly, before letting her hands roam over my ass. “It’s working,” she said with a squeeze.

  “What’s workin’?”

  She gave me another grin before skipping down toward the beach like a small child.

  “Celia?” I called after her. “What’s workin’?”

  Her long dark hair fell over her shoulder as she looked back toward me. “When I smelled the cigar, I didn’t think of him. I thought of you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Celia: 2010

  I slid the drawing across the counter. “This is what I want.”

  Ryan studied the image before shaking his head. “You know I’m gonna have to clear this with Grey.”

  He reached for the cordless phone, and I placed my hand on top of his. “Look, he’s kind of in the middle of something and doesn’t want to be disturbed but trust me when I say that he knows about this.”

  “Remember that time I gave you a ride home from the library during a rainstorm? Because I do. I’d be happy to tattoo the fuckin’ Statue of Liberty across your back, but only with his blessing.”

  With a sigh, I gestured for him to make the call.

  So much for it being a surprise.

  “Uh, Grey? Hey, it’s Ryan over at Inked on Broadway, and I’m sorry to bother you, but uh, your Ol’ Lady is here, and she’s wanting a tattoo—what’s that? Oh, it’s like a bird or some shit—”

  “Phoenix.”

  Ryan looked up at me with a furrowed brow before correcting himself. “Oh, it’s, uh, actually a phoenix. What? No, I didn’t ask.” He covered the mouthpiece and looked up at me again. “He wants to know where you’re wanting it.”

  I briefly chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Tell him I want it over the thirteen.”

  He rubbed at his forehead. “She, um, she wants it over a thirteen? Does that mean some—oh, she’s right here. Yes, sir. Whatever she wants. Got it.” He pulled the phone from his ear. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Hey,” I answered. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  He laughed roughly. “Should’ve gone to another shop then, darlin’. I know everybody comin’ and goin’ out of Inked.”

  “You gonna waste any more of my time or let me get back to it?” I asked cheekily, enjoying the way the color seemed to drain from Ryan’s face.

  “You’re takin’ some big risks there, princess. Better watch it, or I just might have a surprise for that smart mouth of yours when you get home.”

  “I look forward to it, Pres.” I ended the call and handed the phone to Ryan with a triumphant grin. “You heard the man.”

  He shook his head. “You’re gonna get us all killed, Celia.”

  I shrugged and followed him into the booth. “Does he really know everybody who comes in here?”

  “What do you mean?” He asked distractedly while arranging the various bottles of ink on the counter.

  “I mean…”
I settled into the chair. “He said he knew everybody who came by. Do you have to call him for every single customer?”

  “Nope.” Ryan studied the picture again before looking up at me. “He usually sees them on the cameras. Now, where do you want this?”

  I pulled the skirt of my dress up over my hip. “Here.”

  He tucked his lip between his teeth as he studied it. “Looks like it scarred pretty aggressively. Where’d you have it done?”

  “I didn’t. It was done to me. Look, can you fix it or not?”

  “Yeah, I think we can hide most of it with…” He snagged the photo and held it up to my leg. “The shading on the head. The wings might extend up onto your stomach and lower back some. What do you think?”

  The wings could’ve extended up to my neck, and I wouldn’t have cared if it meant I could look in the mirror and not be reminded of them.

  Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, I happily agreed.

  Ryan scanned the image onto his computer and began enlarging it. “Celia, this is fantastic artwork. Do you mind me asking who designed it? Maybe we could bring them on here.”

  I laughed softly, ignoring the bitter tang of regret on my tongue. “Well, she’s only sixteen, but my daughter, Dakota, drew it for me.”

  In actuality, she’d drawn the phoenix for the city’s local art contest but hadn’t won. There was no way for her to have known about the mythical bird or what it symbolized for her father and me. I knew that, but it hadn’t stopped me from stealing it.

  I was forced to sit back and watch helplessly as my mother enrolled Dakota in tap and ballet classes while ignoring her raw talent for art.

  I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the work she’d put into it. Jamie had studied it for hours, noting the similarities between Dakota’s drawing and the comics. He’d promptly had it tattooed on one of the few blank spots left on his back.

  “You know, it wouldn’t matter if she was twenty-six. She’s Grey’s daughter,” Ryan added knowingly. “And completely off-limits.”

  We might’ve been barred from seeing our children, but it hadn’t stopped us from doing everything in our power to keep them safe.