by Katie Ashley
With a shake of my head, I went in search of Case to explain how my daughter’s leash around my finger now included his gym and ballet lessons.
“What time is it?” Willow asked for the twentieth fucking time in the last five minutes.
Gripping the ropes of the boxing ring, I growled, “Kid, you’re getting on my last nerve.”
“Please, Deacon,” she said. When I turned away from Bishop’s practice session, she gave me her best sad-faced pout. The kind that would make a regular father melt. But I wasn’t a regular father.
“She’ll get here when she gets here,” I finally replied.
Willow crossed her arms over her chest in a huff. She’d been wired since the moment she’d woken up. Today was her first dance lesson with Alex. I don’t think I’d ever seen her so fucking excited about anything. Of course, Mama Beth and Rev found her behavior cute. As for me, she was about to drive me bat-shit crazy. I couldn’t tell her to fuck off like I do with my brothers when they’re driving me crazy. Instead, I had to be as patient as I could be with her, which for me wasn’t saying a whole lot.
When the gym door blew open behind me, I didn’t have to guess who it was. Willow’s earsplitting squeal told me all I needed to know. I released the ropes and started over to them. “Oh, Miss Alex. You’re finally here!” Willow shrieked, dancing around Alex.
Alex grinned down at her. “I didn’t realize I was that late. I had carpool duty this afternoon, so I didn’t get to leave on time. I didn’t even stop to change. I came straight here.”
“I’m glad you did,” Willow replied.
“So am I,” I muttered.
With a laugh, Alex said, “Just let me go get changed.” She thrust a glittery pink bag at me. “Can you get Willow ready for me?”
“You can’t be serious.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed on mine. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask since I picked up all the things she would need. Besides, we don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
I looked from Alex to Willow. Ever since she had come to live with me, Mama Beth had taken care of bath time and getting her dressed. Yeah, she was my kid, but I didn’t exactly know the rules when it came to seeing her without clothes. Although I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, there was something that felt pervy about it.
Before I could argue anymore, Willow reached out and took my hand. “Come on, Deacon.”
When Alex shot me a triumphant look, I scowled at her. Instead of mouthing off, I let Willow drag me back to the men’s locker room. “Miss Alex can take the ladies’ room,” Willow informed me.
She started to barge right on, but I jerked her back. “Wait a minute. I need to make sure nobody’s in there getting dressed.”
“Okay.”
Releasing her hand, I ducked inside. The smell of sweat and jockstrap assaulted my nose. When I saw it was empty, I held the door open for Willow. She came skipping inside. She put her bag down on one of the benches and started digging inside. Another one of her ear-splintering squeals had me jumping out of my skin. “Look, Deacon. Miss Alex got me a sparkly pink leotard just like I asked for.” The contents of the bag came flying out—there were panty hose–looking things—pink, of course—some shoes, and a flimsy-looking skirt thing.
Once everything was out, Willow tore her shirt off her head and then stripped out of her jean shorts. She plopped down on the bench and held out the panty hose–looking thing to me. “Help me with my tights.”
“Uh, okay,” I muttered. I reluctantly took them in my hand, and then I knelt down in front of her.
“Hold out the one leg so I can get my foot in there,” Willow commanded.
“I don’t know—”
“Like this,” she instructed, rolling the fabric down. I held it out, and she eased her foot inside. Then I did the other side. When both were at her ankles, I started wiggling them up her legs. I grimaced as I tugged them up over her pink panties. Once they were in place, I eased back on my heels.
“Now help me with the leotard.”
I exhaled a long sigh. “Okay, then.”
One of Willow’s tiny hands reached out for my shoulder. Balancing herself with one arm, she stuck one of her pink legs into the hole of the leotard. When she swayed a little, I reached out and grabbed her by the waist, steadying her.
“Oops.” She giggled as she stuck her other leg in the hole. I then took my hands off her waist and helped tug the leotard up to her chest. Then she wiggled her arms in. After I helped her adjust it, she ran over to the mirror and let out yet another ear-piercing squeal. “Deacon, look at how pretty I am!”
I couldn’t help chuckling. “No false modesty for you, huh?”
She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Huh?”
“Nothing. Yes, you do look really pretty.”
When she grinned, she reminded me of Lacey. While she looked just like me, she still had little mannerisms and quirks that were her mother’s.
“Ooh, now I need my hair put up in a bun.” She eyed me curiously. “Can you do my hair?”
Scratching my head, I replied, “I can try.”
She nodded. Digging in her bag, she produced a hairbrush for me and then something to hold her hair. “Sit down,” I instructed, motioning to the bench in front of me. She quickly obeyed. The moment I ran the brush through her hair, I became assaulted by a barrage of memories.
“You know the only reason why I sort of know how to do this?” I questioned, my voice choking off with emotion.
“Uh-uh,” Willow replied.
“I used to brush and braid your mother’s hair.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I did.” I could almost hear Lacey’s sultry voice begging me to brush her hair. Although it often rendered her catatonic from relaxation, it also tended to get her fired up to fuck me. Something about the tender touch of my hands on her hair turned a switch inside her.
After a moment of silence, Willow softly asked, “Did you love my mommy?”
My hand froze, stilling the sweeping motion of the brush. As I thought of the feelings I’d once had for Lacey, an ache burned through my chest. “Yeah, I did.”
“Did she love you?”
“Yeah, I think she did at one time.”
“You think when I grow up I’ll be prettier than her?”
“Probably. Let’s face it. You look just like me, and I’m pretty damn handsome.” When Willow didn’t acknowledge my comment, I said, “Yes, you’ll be prettier. Is that what you want, to be the prettiest?”
She shrugged her tiny shoulders. “Yes … as long as it doesn’t make me hurt people or let them hurt me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mommy was so pretty that she let lots of men hurt her. Sometimes they hurt me. But most of the time, it was Mommy who hurt me.”
Her words caused a volatile mixture of rage and pain to course through me. Hearing Willow talk about how much her mother hurt her made me wish that Lacey were still alive so I could kill her with my own bare hands. I knew firsthand what it was like to be abused as a kid, and I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with that pain, especially my own flesh and blood. Even though I knew she was fucked-up on drugs, I couldn’t imagine how Lacey could hurt Willow. Of course, when I’d started fucking Lacey, I hadn’t actually been looking for someone maternal. She was no Mama Beth, that’s for damn sure. And even though I didn’t know her that well, I knew Alex would be ten times the mother that Lacey had ever tried to be. Wait. Why the fuck was I bringing Alex into all this?
Placing one of my hands on Willow’s shoulder, I said, “You know that you don’t have to ever worry about being hurt again.”
“Yeah,” she replied tentatively.
“I’m serious. If anyone hurts you, I will put them in the ground. Do you understand me?”
Willow turned back to me with wide, frightened eyes. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want you to understand that you don’t have to worry about being hurt again.”
&nb
sp; “Okay.”
As I brought the brush through her hair again, I sighed. “And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to stop your mom from hurting you. I promise you it wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there.”
“It’s all right.”
“No. It really isn’t.” A ragged breath shuddered through my body. “You didn’t deserve that, and I should’ve been there.”
With an intuition that freaked me out, Willow asked, “Did someone hurt you when you were little?”
As I recalled the horrific memories of my past, my head began to swim, and the room seemed to close in on me. The last thing on earth I needed was for Willow to see me flake out. I was supposed to be strong for her.
I counted to ten and tried to collect my thoughts. “Deacon?” Willow prompted.
“Yeah, my old man used to beat the shit out of me after he beat my mom. Usually for no reason at all. My mom tried to get us away, but …”
“What happened to your real mommy?”
“She was murdered, just like yours.”
“Was it Mean Man?” Willow asked in a whisper.
I shook my head. “No. It was my father.”
After relief momentarily flickered across her face that it hadn’t been the “Mean Man,” her tiny brows scrunched in confusion, as if she couldn’t imagine anything so horrible. “Your daddy killed your mommy?”
“Yeah, he did,” I replied, and I hated that my voice sounded choked with emotion.
“He must’ve been a real bad man.”
“Yeah, he was.” As I swept the brush through her hair again, I said, “Guess we’re a lot alike with the fact our mothers were killed, huh?”
A solemn look came over her face. “Yes, but I’m more sad for you.”
My brows shot up. “Why’s that?”
“Because you loved your daddy, and he hurt your mommy, which hurt you really bad. Even though I lost my mommy, I still have my daddy.” Glancing at me over her shoulder, she added, “And you would never do anything to hurt me like that.”
My hands froze in her hair as I tried to process her words. In spite of all my shit, Willow thought I was a good guy—a guy who would never hurt her. I sure as hell hoped I could live up to her expectations. It was a lot of fucking pressure. “You’re right,” I croaked. Cuffing the back of her neck playfully to ease the mood, I asked, “When did you become so wise?”
She shrugged. “Mrs. Martinez used to say I was an old soul.”
The mention of someone from her former life made me think for a minute about how she had mentioned the “Mean Man” again. The shrink she saw twice a week had warned us not to grill Willow for any information about what she had witnessed. But at the end of the day, we needed more intel. “What can you tell me about Mean Man?”
Willow immediately turned white as a sheet, and a tremor ran through her body. In a strangled voice, she replied, “No. I can’t … I can’t ever talk about him. He’ll hurt me.”
Even though I wasn’t used to showing her a lot of affection, I pulled her into my arms. “No, baby. He won’t. Me, Uncle Rev, and Bishop, and the rest of the Raiders won’t let him. He can’t get to you. I promise.”
My words seemed to ease Willow’s concerns a little because she stopped trembling. Taking her by the shoulders, I gently eased her back to where I could look into her eyes. “Maybe if we knew what he looked like, we could find him and put him in jail.”
My pep talk did nothing to convince Willow to talk. She just slowly shook her head back and forth. “Okay, then, let’s change the subject. All this shit is too heavy for someone your age.” I swept up her long, dark hair. Twisting it around, I wrapped the hair tie around it. “There. How’s that?”
Willow turned around on the bench. When she was facing the mirror, she turned her head left and right. “It looks good. Will you put the ribbons in now?”
“You’re a bossy thing, aren’t you?” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
She laughed. “Maybe.”
Although it pained me greatly, I tied the ribbons around her bun. I had to admit that she looked cute as hell. Her outfit had transformed her into a ballerina. Whether or not she had any talent for it was yet to be seen.
“Okay. That’s enough mirror time. Let’s get you to Miss Alex,” I said.
She reluctantly turned from admiring her reflection and met me at the door. When she tugged on my hand, I bent down to her level. She surprised the hell out of me by standing on her tiptoes to bestow a kiss on my cheek. “Thank you, Deacon.”
“You’re welcome.”
Cocking her head at me, Willow asked, “Maybe soon I’ll be ready to call you ‘Daddy.’”
Her statement caused me momentarily to stagger back. Where the hell had that come from? Did I even want the kid to call me “Daddy”? I’d sure as hell have to be more of a father for her to call me one. I couldn’t deny her words caused an ache to burn through my chest. Somehow I finally found the words to respond. “I think I would like that.”
Willow smiled before bounding out the door. When we got back into the gym, I noticed two or three of the guys standing stock-still outside of the boxing ring. Instead of their attention being trained on Bishop, they stared off to the side. It took me only a moment to figure out who they were staring at.
I started to tell them to put their tongues back in their mouths, but I never got the chance. Instead, my eyes zeroed in on what they were obsessed with. Outfitted in her own skintight leotard, tights, and skirt, Alex was bent over, ass in the air, with her palms pressed to the mat. I could have never imagined something as simple as stretching could be so fucking sexy.
Oblivious to all the stares, she rose up and then brought her arm over her head. As she leaned in to the stretch, her ass swished provocatively. When she finished with the one arm, she moved on to the next one. And then she pulled a move that proved my undoing. She stretched her leg out next to her head. “Fucking hell,” one of the guys muttered.
“Why are you all staring at Miss Alex?” Willow demanded, bringing me out of my fantasy of how many positions I could put the very limber Alex in.
Willow’s words startled Alex. Her leg dropped down, and then she whirled around. When she saw all the men standing around, her face flushed. Trying to ease her embarrassment, I shouted, “Go on. Show’s over. Go back to work or whatever the hell you were supposed to be doing!”
As the men scrambled, Willow raced over to Alex, who was now cowering in the corner. When I reached them, Alex shook her head. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“Look, I can promise you what happened was just a onetime thing. There’s never any women down here, so naturally they had to gawk when they saw one.”
Alex’s cheeks were still red. “I won’t feel comfortable. … I won’t be able to focus if I have to worry about being ogled.”
“What’s ogled?” Willow asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” I snapped.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
“You mean I’m not going to get to have ballet lessons?” Willow asked in a small voice.
Before she could throw a fit, I held up my hands. “Just give me a minute to think of a solution, okay?”
Both Willow and Alex crossed their arms over their chests and stared expectantly at me. “The basement,” I blurted.
“What?” Alex asked.
“I can set you up something in the basement.”
“But it’s scary down there,” Willow said in a hushed voice.
“It won’t be when I’m through with it. I’ll put in more lights, clean out some of the junk, and put up some mirrors.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Alex gushed, a pleased smile on her face. I could only imagine that in her white-bread world, she hadn’t had much exposure to the tough-as-shit men who train here, so I guess it made sense she’d be so put off.
“What do you say, kid?” I asked Willow.
“I think it sounds okay.”
I laughed. “Ju
st okay. Man, there’s no pleasing you.”
She nibbled on her lip before asking, “Will you put in a barre, too? You know, like it’s a real studio.”
“I think I can swing that.”
Her face lit up. “Then I love it.”
Before I thought better of it, I reached out and ruffled her hair. “Glad you think so.”
Willow jumped back from me. “Don’t mess my hair up!”
Alex laughed at our exchange. “We wouldn’t want to mess up your bun.” Amusement danced in her eyes when she looked at me. “Did she do that, or did you?”
“I did. Why?”
She shrugged. “I’m just surprised—that’s all.” With a teasing smile, she said, “You’re a man of many talents, Jesse James.”
“Hmm, there’s more of my talents I’d like to acquaint you with.” Inwardly, I cringed. Had I actually just laid some serious innuendo on her? What the hell was my problem? I was just as bad as the Neanderthals who had been panting and drooling over her earlier.
Alex’s eyes widened at my suggestive tone. “Well, I think it’s time that I acquainted Willow with a few basic ballet poses.”
“I’ll keep an eye on things for you.”
After pursing her lips at me, she replied, “Why doesn’t that make me feel better?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “At ease, White-Bread.”
The next half hour passed without Alexandra being eye-fucked by the guys. While I eventually focused back on Bishop in the ring, I threw a look in her and Willow’s direction every few minutes. Jesus, did Alexandra have patience when it came to Willow. She worked over and over with her to make sure she understood the pose things and how to hold her arms. While I would have freaked the fuck out and stalked off, Alex kept her head and never raised her voice.
When the instruction was over, Alex quickly bypassed me for the bathroom to change. “Did I dance good?” Willow asked.
“You did good, kid,” I replied.
“She did well,” Rev emphasized behind me.
After turning around, I rolled my eyes at his grammar-correcting ass and then managed to smack him in the balls with Willow’s bag. “Be careful getting her home.”
