Edison (The Henchmen MC Book 10)
Page 24
And she was, well, nothing like me.
How that happened, I wasn't sure. But she got all of Edison's good, and none of my bad. And then extra good bits from, well, everyone around her, all the women and men she was surrounded with on an almost daily basis, the family we had made out of Henchmen members and their families to replace the ones Edison and I no longer had.
She was tall and willowy for her age, something Edison and I both had in common growing up, with dark hair and chocolate eyes, and a roundness to her face that was nothing like me, but did remind me in a remote way of Letha at her age.
"What's up?" I asked, walking in the room, raising my brow at the way Edison was watching me, like he was gauging my reaction.
To what?
Well, that would be Layna on the floor in her silly blue princess tutu and red Chucks, her hair a wild mass around her head because she liked to hide from the hairbrush, and I was just as apt not to have a screaming match every time it got a little crazy.
Hands-off, that was what kind of parent you could call me.
She just got to raise her hell.
And I got to clean up after it.
She was inside a box that must have been labeled incorrectly from one of the many helpers we had had to box up our old place.
Because this box should never have been in her toy room.
It should have been in my room.
I guess it was easy not to understand that.
It was, after all, a child's tea set.
And Layna was holding one of the cups in her little hand.
I understood the look Edison was giving me, knowing as he did that every year, I cried over those cups, even nine years later.
They were a reminder of something lost too soon.
A part of my past.
And here it was, in the hands of my future.
"This is like the one in your picture!" she told me, oblivious to the heaviness in the room, in her mother's chest.
She didn't mean picture.
She meant tattoo.
It was the same cup as my tattoo.
"Yeah, buddy, it is," I agreed, trying to deep-breathe through the swirling in my belly and the tightening in my chest, unsure what the combination meant, but uncomfortable with it on principle.
"That's weird," she told me, shaking her head.
I moved over toward where she was carefully - bless her - taking each piece of the set out and placing it on the floor.
"Uncle Sugar has a tattoo of a mermaid on his arm," I told her, shrugging.
"Yeah," she agreed, putting the tiny teaspoons on the tiny saucers, doing so with an expert kind of precision, like this was a matter of utmost importance.
Just like Letha always had done.
"Mama," she said when she was done, sitting back down on her butt, exhaling hard like the ceremony had taken all her effort.
"Yeah, bud?" I asked, heartbeat at a standstill.
"Do you want to have a tea party with me?"
I could feel Edison's gaze from across the room, knowing that this moment was huge, ready to step in if I couldn't handle it.
I gave him a small smile, then looked back at our daughter, a product of all the love we had made, a beautiful, magnificent slice of innocence in the world, a warmth like the sun that everyone around her leaned into.
Just like Letha.
And it suddenly wasn't hard.
All the knots untied.
My heart moved to a solid pace.
Because it didn't feel weird, uneasy, a piece of my past in the hands of my future.
No.
It felt perfectly, utterly right.
"Yeah, bud, I would love to have a tea party with you."
XX
DON'T FORGET
Dear Reader,
Thank you for taking time out of your life to read this book. If you LOVED this book, I would really appreciate it if you could hop onto Goodreads or Amazon and tell me your favorite parts. You can also spread the word by recommending the book to friends or sending digital copies that can be received via kindle or kindle app on any device.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Anna Gabriela Crãivan - for your invaluable help with the Romanian language and culture.
And Chloe - for keeping me sane, keeping a badass spreadsheet that I need to consult at least once a week, and for pointing out when my words aren't perfectly aligned on promotional pictures. Invaluable, all.
ALSO BY JESSICA GADZIALA
The Henchmen MC
Reign
Cash
Wolf
Repo
Duke
Renny
Lazarus
Pagan
Cyrus
The Savages
Monster
Killer
Savior
Stars Landing
What The Heart Needs
What The Heart Wants
What The Heart Finds
What The Heart Knows
The Stars Landing Deviant
Mallick Brothers
Shane
Ryan
Mark
Eli
—
DEBT
For A Good Time, Call...
Vigilante
The Sex Surrogate
Dr. Chase Hudson
Dissent
Into The Green
Dark Mysteries
367 Days
14 Weeks
Stuffed: A Thanksgiving Romance
Dark Secrets
Dark Horse
Unwrapped
Peace, Love, & Macarons
Grudge Match
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jessica Gadziala is a full-time writer, parrot enthusiast, and coffee drinker from New Jersey. She enjoys short rides to the book store, sad songs, and cold weather.
She is very active on Goodreads, Facebook, as well as her personal groups on those sites. Join in. She's friendly.
STALK HER!
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<3/ Jessica
WRITING PLAYLIST
"Rose Tattoo" - Dropkick Murphys
"Savior" - Rise Against
"Cruel Mistress" - Flogging Molly
"Alive With the Glory of Love" - Say Anything
"Inside Out" - The Bouncing Souls
"You" - Bad Religion
"King of Wishful Thinking" - New Found Glory
"Flavor of the Week" - American Hifi
"Cute Without the 'E'" - Taking Back Sunday
"Buried A Lie" - Senses Fail
"Sink, Florida, Sink" - Against Me!
"The Taste of Ink" - The Used
"Little Lion Man" - Mumford & Sons
"When Your Heart Stops Beating" - +44
"Miss Murder" - AFI
"Cold Hard Bitch" - Jet