Hero Daddy

by Roberts, Laylah

  “He’s going to want whoever killed his son then?” Ink asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands dangling between his legs.

  “Yeah. I doubt he’s going to sit around and wait for the cops to do their jobs, not that they have much to go on,” Reyes told them. “My contact in the police department said the scene was clean. Nothing to indicate who the murderer was.”

  “Wonder why the Fox didn’t leave his calling card,” Spike mused. “He tends to leave something. Mind you, there could be a number of murders he’s committed but never left his calling card at. We just wouldn’t know.” Spike shrugged.

  The Fox tended to leave a small fox or an image of a fox’s head at the scenes of his crimes.

  “Not really our concern what the senator’s old man gets up to, is it?” Ink asked, settling back in his chair. “We weren’t the ones to kill him. Even if he does figure out that it was the Fox, there’s nothing to link us to him. We’re free and clear. Not sure why we’re even talking about this anymore. That sick fuck, the senator is gone. The Fox is gone. Jason and Razor are clear with the alibis the Fox set up. The cops finding those images of them outside the senator’s house was flimsy evidence anyway. We can go back to modus operandi.”

  There was silence. Then one by one the others nodded.

  “All right then,” Reyes said. “That’s all for tonight. We got our ride tomorrow, no one be late.” He looked at Ink as he said that.

  Ink glared back at him. He wasn’t his fucking father. He got out of his chair, barely managing not to scrape it along the floor. Duke came up next to him, grabbing him firmly on the shoulder and turning him towards the door.

  They moved into the corridor.

  “See you guys later,” Spike said, disappearing out a side door. Jason followed after him without a nod.

  “Got to take a piss,” Razor commented.

  “Thanks for the update man,” Ink said sarcastically.

  Razor just grinned.

  Ink headed towards the bar, Duke walking with him. “What’s up with you?”

  “What you talking about?”

  “Man, you look like shit. You’re biting at Reyes. You still got a problem with him?”

  He bit back his initial reply and thought about that for a second. They’d paused at the door leading out to the bar. No one came back here except for other Iron Shadows members. Whoever was bartending made sure of that since the door was next to the bar.

  “Nah, not really. He just rubs me the wrong way sometimes. You know I have an authority problem.” He forced his voice to lighten.

  “How you lasted in the Special Forces, I’ll never know. Ink, you know if you need to talk that I’m here.”

  “Christ, man. Why would I want to talk to you when I can talk to Sunny? She’s prettier to look at. She smells a hell of a lot nicer and if I look sad enough, she’ll even hug me.”

  Duke just shook his head at him. “You’re a fucking dick.”

  Yep. He was. He forced himself to grin as they stepped into the bar. His heart thumped as he heard a female scream in fear.

  Duke was already shoving his way through bodies.

  “Fucking get away from her, man!” Danny, the bouncer on tonight, roared.

  Ink pushed through after Duke. They made it to an area across the room where there was seating only to find Danny had some asshole in a headlock. Off to the side, Sunny stood shaking. A furious-looking Jewel stood in front of Sunny, glaring at the asshole in the headlock.

  “What the fuck happened?” Duke roared.

  Sunny glanced over at Duke. Tears flooded her eyes as she threw herself at him. He held her tightly against his chest, running his hand up and down her back.

  Ink checked on Jewel. She liked to act like she was tough. That she didn’t need anyone. But he’d known her a while now. There was a vulnerable side to her. In fact, he might be the only person who knew that.

  “What happened? You okay?” he asked her.

  Jewel didn’t turn her glare from the man that Danny was dragging through the room. He was spouting drunken shit about just wanting to touch her tit. And how pretty she was. Ink wasn’t sure if the dickhead was talking about Sunny or Jewel.

  Rage flooded him.

  “Jewel?” he snapped.

  She finally looked up at him then over to where Duke was murmuring to Sunny in a low, soothing voice.

  “Asshole was drunk. Don’t know how he even got in here. He stumbled into our table. Then he tried to reach for my breast. I slapped his hand away. He seemed to take that as an invitation to try harder. I grabbed his hand and twisted it behind his back while Sunny threw her drink over him and yelled out for Danny. Bastard was stronger than he looked. He managed to get free. He was going after Sunny when Danny arrived.”

  “No one else fucking helped?” He stared around him at some of the other members.

  A couple of them looked ashamed. A few others gave him shrugs. “Happened quick, man,” one meathead said.

  That didn’t sit right with him. He glared at those closest. “We’ll have a fucking talk about the way we take care of the women who are under our protection.”

  But for now, he was going to go after that dick who’d tried to touch Jewel.

  “Ink!” Duke called out.

  “I’ll take care of it!” He stormed outside to where he saw the guy was standing in the middle of the road, taunting Danny. The big biker just stood there, arms crossed over his barrel-like chest, watching on calmly.

  “Hey, asshole, what the hell did you think you were doing?” Ink yelled, striding towards the idiot. He shoved him. “If a woman doesn’t want your attention then you don’t fucking touch her.”

  The drunk guy stumbled forward, falling against Ink. Before he could shove him back, he grabbed hold of his cut.

  “Tell Jewel that Maxwell said hi.”

  Then he turned and raced off before Ink could ask him what the hell he meant. And who was Maxwell? He frowned. Why would this Maxwell want to say hi to Jewel?

  “Ink,” Duke called out.

  He turned to see his Duke walking towards him. “Yeah?”

  “Danny had it under control, man.”

  “Just making sure the message got through. He got close to Sunny and Jewel.”

  “Yeah, and Jewel can gut a man without breaking into a sweat. You know that, you fucking trained her.”

  He eased out a breath, forcing the tension in his shoulders to fade away. “Just got mad.”

  “You’re getting mad a lot lately.” There was no judgment in Duke’s voice, instead a very careful neutrality. Christ. When had he become a ticking time bomb people were waiting to explode?

  “I know,” he said gruffly. “I’m working on it. I’m gonna head to the club.”

  “Sure you should do that when you’re in this kind of mood? Maybe you should wait until you’re calmer.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Look, I love you, man, but I’ve got places to be. I can stand here, talking about my feelings with you or I can go spank a sweet sub and find my happy place. Can you guess which option I’m going to choose?”

  Duke sighed. It was a sound filled with disappointment and it hit Ink in the gut.

  “Yeah. I get which one you’re gonna choose. I’m just here for you if you need me, yeah?”

  “Got it. Hey, you know anyone called Maxwell?”

  “No, why?”

  “That drunk asshole said to tell Jewel that Maxwell says hi.”

  “I’ll let her know.” Duke looked behind him.

  “Go. Find Sunny. You’ll be breaking out in hives soon from being apart from her for this long.”

  “You’re a dick,” Duke told him, but he whacked him on the back of the shoulder.

  4

  Ink strode into Fringe.

  Tonight he wasn’t getting side-tracked by a pair of sad brown eyes. Something caught the corner of his eye as he moved into the dungeon.

 
; White-blonde hair. A lot of skin. Unable to help himself, he walked closer. A big motherfucker was looming over her, saying something. He had on tight leather pants and his chest was bare. Her head was down. Her shoulders hunched.

  Something about it felt off. They could be just talking about a scene. But Ink knew body language. And hers screamed discomfort. Maybe even fear.

  He grew closer, his gut tightening as he recognized the Dom. Dean Jeffries. Dom asshole extraordinaire. He insisted everyone call him Major because he’d done a brief stint in the armed forces. Ink had run a background check on him and he’d definitely never achieved the rank of Major.

  Asshole had a habit of browbeating subs, especially new and naïve ones.

  Like Betsy.

  “Help you with something, Callahan?” Jeffries sneered, looking him over. He was several inches taller than Ink and broader. But his muscle was starting to go to fat.

  “Nope,” Ink told him.

  Jeffries eyes narrowed. “You’re interrupting my scene negotiation.”

  “Hello, Betsy,” Ink said, ignoring the asshole.

  “Hello, Sir,” she said quietly.

  “Nobody said you could talk, sub,” Jeffries growled.

  Betsy flinched. Ink’s temper stirred.

  This is not the place to lose it.

  “She’s agreed to a scene with you?” Ink asked, knowing Jeffries often skirted the line of consent. Why he was still allowed in the club, Ink had no idea.

  “Yes, she has. And you’re interfering.”

  “Betsy, is that right?” Ink asked.

  “Sub, you weren’t given permission to speak.”

  “You’re not her fucking Dom, man,” Ink said, moving closer. “And she’s not allowed to negotiate scenes on her own without her mentor.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “Me.”

  He nearly smiled as Jeffries’ face grew red.

  “She never said anything.”

  “All new subs have someone assigned to help them negotiate scenes. You’ve been here how long now? How do you not fucking know that?”

  His face kept getting redder and redder. “Only the club Doms negotiate scenes. You’re not a club Dom.”

  “Betsy was a special favor to Angus. You feeling all right, man? Your face is a bit red. Maybe you should get your blood pressure checked. And your cholesterol. There’s no shame in it.”

  “You fucking prick,” Jeffries spat out, making Betsy jolt.

  “Betsy, come over here,” Ink said firmly. “Next to me, please.”

  She shuffled over towards him immediately, making Jeffries’ eyes narrow until they were slits. “She wants to scene with me. Why don’t you let her speak for herself?”

  Oh, so now he wanted her to speak?

  He softened slightly as he stared down at her. She was shaking, her head low. “Betsy? Look at me.”

  She raised her gaze. Her eyes were wide and they flicked from him to Jeffries then back to him.

  “Would you like me to negotiate a scene for you with Master Dean?”

  Do not say yes. Do not.

  He’d do it if it was what she wanted. But he’d watch that scene closely. There was a beat of silence and he worried she would say yes. That she might feel like she had to.

  Shit. He should have taken her somewhere more private to ask her. He leaned in, his lips close to her ear. “Little girl, just tell the truth.”

  Her eyes widened as he moved back. He wondered if she’d protest him calling her Little girl. Or if she’d realized something about herself last weekend. Something he’d been thinking over all week.

  Her shoulders went back.

  “I don’t want to scene with him.”

  “Sir,” he muttered, elation filling him.

  Calm.

  She’s your charge. Not your sub.

  “Pardon me?” she asked with a slight frown. Oh so polite. He wondered what it would take to crack that glass encasing her.

  “I don’t want to scene with him, Sir,” he told her. All right, maybe it was less about teaching her and more about rubbing it in to Jeffries that she didn’t want him.

  He’d never claimed to be a good guy. Or a particularly nice guy. But he wasn’t like Jeffries. He didn’t bully women. And he wasn’t getting his hands on Betsy. That fucking made Ink’s day.

  “You’re an asshole, Callahan,” Jeffries spat out. “One day you’ll get yours.”

  Ink crossed his arms over his chest, a smile threatening. “That so?”

  Jeffries stepped forward, getting right in his face. “I should wipe that fucking smirk off your face.”

  Ink wiped his hand over his face. “Are you planning on doing it with your breath? Because if so, mission accomplished, man.”

  “What?” Jeffries looked confused.

  “I’d offer you a breath mint, but I seem to have run out. You got any, babe?” he asked Betsy. “Ahh, no, I can see you don’t have any pockets. Sorry, Jeffries. But hey, job well done, my grin is totally gone.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  Jeffries’ hands clenched into fists. This was it. Ink’s heartbeat picked up, his body warming. The fight he’d been waiting for. He didn’t care that it wasn’t the right place or time.

  Then a small, cold hand landed on his arm, bringing him back to reality with a jolt.

  Christ.

  Betsy.

  She stepped closer to him. And the red haze of fury was drawn back from his gaze. He looked around him, saw everyone had paused and was staring at them.

  Angus was stomping towards them; his face red. Ink wouldn’t have been surprised if puffs of smoke started coming out of his nostrils.

  Betsy’s hand dug into his arm. Damn, he was probably terrifying her. She’d likely never been around violence in her life and here he was about to tear into another guy just because he wanted to scene with her.

  Well, that wasn’t the real reason but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know what a complete prick Jeffries was and that he had this coming.

  Or that Ink had been riding the edge of his control for weeks.

  He let out a breath, and took a deliberate step back. He wrapped his arm around Betsy. She was still staring at the crowd, watching them all carefully. For what, he wasn’t sure.

  Triumph filled Jeffries’ face. Stupid fucker thought that Ink was backing down?

  Moron.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Angus was obviously trying to keep his voice quiet, but it still travelled to the nearest people. Anger flooded his face as he stared from Jeffries to Ink.

  “Callahan is interfering in my scene negotiation with this sub,” Jeffries claimed.

  Ink narrowed his gaze at the other man but didn’t say anything to refute it.

  “Well?” Angus puffed, looking over at Ink.

  “Well what?” he drawled.

  “Are you trying to interfere in negotiations?” Angus asked impatiently.

  “He needs to go find his own sub to play with,” Jeffries stated before Ink could speak. “We all know he’s always been jealous of me, that’s why he’s trying to take what’s mine.”

  Ink growled, and letting go of Betsy, he stepped forward. A hand brushed against his. Cool, thin fingers tangled with his own.

  “Betsy isn’t yours, you idiot.”

  Jeffries snarled and Angus stepped between them. “Honest to fucking God, do you know how many scenes you two have disrupted? And over one fucking sub.” Angus glanced down at Betsy. Surprise filled his face.

  Angus turned to Jeffries. “You were negotiating with her?”

  “Yep.” Jeffries looked smug. Thought he’d won, had he?

  “Betsy is new. She’s not allowed to negotiate on her own.”

  “She didn’t tell me.” The words were almost like a whine.

  “For God’s sake, Dean. You know very well that she’s new.” Angus sighed. “Could we at least try to pretend like we’re sane, rational people for a moment. You two are supposed to be expe
rienced Dominants. You’re supposed to show some control.” Angus turned to Ink. “Thought you were just acting as her mentor for one night?”

  Ink shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

  “Because I want her. And what I want, you try to take,” Jeffries goaded.

  “Try?” Ink mocked.

  “Enough. Have either of you actually asked Betsy what she wants?” Angus nodded his head down at Betsy.

  “I don’t want to scene with him,” Betsy said clearly, nodding at Jeffries to make it extra crystal clear. “Sir.”

  Angus nodded as though he’d expected that answer. “All right. Jeffries, you heard her. Go find another sub to play with. The rest of you can go back to what you were doing. Nothing to watch here.” As the crowd dispersed, Angus turned to Ink. He sighed.

  “Could you not have handled Jeffries without making a huge scene?”

  “Course I could have.”

  Angus ran his hand over his face then turned his scowl on Betsy, who still clung to Ink. He wasn’t going to lie. He liked that she sought him out for protection.

  “Girl, what were you doing wandering around on your own? Were you not told at the front desk to wait at the sub area? If you’d been there, then Jeffries wouldn’t have been able to approach you on his own. You’re supposed to have a club Dom handle negotiations for you.”

  “I, umm, ahh…sorry?” It came out more of a question than an actual apology.

  Ink snorted with amusement as Angus shook his head in exasperation.

  “Were you told to go to the sub area?”

  “Yes. Sir.”

  “So you disobeyed a direct order given to you for your safety. Something you agreed to in your contract?”

  “So you actually sat her down and went through the club rules then,” Ink asked. All humor had faded. He didn’t like Angus scolding her.

  This possessiveness was odd. And completely misplaced.

  “I did. She agreed to them. She just broke them.”

  Ink knew where this was going.

  “She needs to be punished.”

  5

  “I’ll do it,” Ink said, surprising himself.

  He felt Betsy stiffen. She deserved this. She could have gotten into real trouble with Jeffries.