Clenching his jaw, he again met her stare. “I owe you an apology. No matter what you did, you don’t deserve that.” He looked at the bruises again then locked eyes with her. “Not from me because I’m not that type of man, not from anyone. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but maybe for the sake of being better parents for Bree, we can call a truce.”
She brought her hand to cover the marks looking every which way but at him. “You know I’m clumsy, Bryce. I wasn’t paying attention and walked into one of those heavy toolboxes in the garage. Not too long ago, I slammed the back of my head under the sink. And yesterday, I slipped in the shower. I have a bruise for that too.”
A relief, it hadn’t been him. Still, he had to get a hold of his temper.
Impossible for him to ignore, she hadn’t met his eyes, and that irked him. He schooled his voice. “Don’t know what you’ve been doing the last five years besides raising Bree. Don’t know who you’ve been associating with either, except, of course, your cop, but the woman I knew had the balls to look me in the face.”
Her eyes watered. She swallowed. “That woman’s dead and gone, Bryce.”
Amazing actress. She wanted to throw herself a pity party? Why?
She screwed him over. Just because he apologized for putting his hands on her, just because he wanted to call a truce didn’t mean he’d let her drag him around by the balls. Fuck her.
Livid, he forgot why he needed that distance between them. “The man you knew is dead, too, and there’s only you to blame for that.”
He shouldn’t have said it, shouldn’t have given her that, letting her know how she killed him. A woman like her got pleasure out of the damage she’d wreaked, the reason he regretted it the minute he said it.
Instead of the reaction he expected, her face paled in a way that he knew what he said hurt her, bad. He didn’t take any pleasure in it. By that point, the fresh scent of her hit him taking him back. Too soon, he became very aware of how close he stood, of how she had nothing but skin under that towel. The fact he still wanted her and how badly even after everything she did made him angrier. Before he did something he regretted, he walked away.
Chapter Eight
“What the fuck do you mean, I owe two grand?”
Em’s first day had been eventful. The weekend came and went without another confrontation with Bryce, but that’s where her luck ended.
Monday morning, her first day working at the garage also happened to be Bree’s first day of school. She assumed as Bree’s mother Bryce would let her accompany him when he took Bree to school. Wrong. The truce he wanted either wasn’t really a truce or he decided to take it back after she said the old Emelia was gone. She racked her brain since Friday night trying to figure out why he responded the way he had. She’d changed, a fact. Another fact, he had too.
He ignored her the entire weekend, barely sparing a glance at her. At the time, she figured ignoring her—his version of a “truce.” She realized Monday morning this was not the case.
When she followed Bryce and Bree out into the garage, he turned toward Bree. “Need a minute with your mom, baby. Go wait in the car.”
Bree did just that.
He faced her, shooting daggers her way. “You’re staying.” Then he turned and walked away.
She did the only thing that came to mind, beg. “Bryce, please…I can’t miss her first day…”
Her voice trailed off when he stopped, turned, and closed the distance between them with three powerful, menacing steps.
Gritting his teeth, his hands in fists, he snarled, “You aren’t missing her first day of school. Her first day happened in New Mexico before I even knew I had a daughter.”
He had a point, a point he brought up to guilt her, and it worked. She screwed up by leaving, believing he meant it when he said he didn’t want to be a father. Didn’t he realize he didn’t need to remind her every step of the way? Not a second of any day would go by without her knowing the reason her daughter hadn’t had a father was her.
“But—”
“But some gang is trying to kill you. You aren’t to be seen with my kid ’cause that gang finds you, means they find Bree. You know what they’ll do to you both?”
She had a pretty good idea. Thinking of it, she swallowed and nodded. He made another good point, so she stopped fighting him.
“No, you don’t. You can’t even imagine the type of sick fucks part of that gang. You can’t even begin to imagine what they’d do to a four-year-old. I’m not letting that happen, not to my Bree.”
With those words, he strode away. She stood there frozen watching him drive away, watching Bree wave at her. He hadn’t even given her a chance to say goodbye, to wish their daughter good luck on her first day.
Truce over. Her and her big mouth got her in trouble, again. Bryce was back to being a dick. She deserved it, yes, but he knew why she left, why she had every reason to, so why continue to torture her?
The rest of her day had been hectic. No one thought it important to show her the ropes of her new job, meaning she spent the day trying to figure it out: dealing with customers, placing orders, taking too many calls to count. Added to her workload, the brothers assumed she was their personal secretary, who needed to get them drinks, order food, and so on. She spent an hour ordering lunch alone. By the time she finished, she had yet to place a rush order on parts needed by the end of the week, so she’d skipped lunch.
Before Emelia knew it, Bryce arrived with Bree. Her daughter rushed in to tell her about her first day at a new school. She listened to her daughter in between taking calls. Then the disgruntled customer came in, venting his frustration over the fact he had a two-thousand-dollar bill. If she had a two-thousand-dollar bill, she’d be upset too, but he screamed profanities in front of her four-year-old daughter, hard to miss considering Bree’s arm circled her waist in a death grip. She wanted to help him figure out why he owed two grand, but she couldn’t, not until he told her his name. She’d asked several times. He ignored her question and continued to rant.
“You care to explain why the fuck I owe two grand? Or you just gonna stand there!”
“I’d be more than happy to help, but I need your name.”
“You people think you own this town. You—”
The door to the office banged open.
She hadn’t expected anyone to come to her rescue, except maybe Strike because he’d done so once already or Bryce but only because Bree was with her. But they didn’t come to her rescue; Bud did.
Her lips parted.
Bud glared. “You got a fuckin’ problem, you come to a brother. You don’t give a woman shit. You don’t give our new receptionist shit. What else you don’t do? Curse in front of a kid. Now, you’re gonna tell me what the problem is, asshole?”
“As your receptionist, she should know—”
“She’s new. Even if she wasn’t, she can’t help you if you’re screamin’ and not telling her shit besides the fact you owe us two grand. A lot of people owe us two grand.”
“She should—”
Bud took a step, getting in the man’s face. “Outside. Now.”
Before either of them moved, Bryce walked in. Being acutely aware of him, she noticed despite the tense atmosphere. His glare dead centered on her. Then again, nothing new. He’d find a way to blame her for this scene too. She tore her gaze away to glance at Mellow, Blaze, and Cuss who walked in. The customer, taking all of them in, did the smart thing. He strode outside. The others followed them, except Bryce.
Avoiding his stare, she tilted her head down and wrapped her arms around Bree. “Learn this lesson, baby. Being rude gets you nowhere.”
Bree smiled softly.
She pointed toward the back counter behind her desk. “Sit right there and get started on your homework, okay?”
Bree nodded.
The phone rang, and she answered it quickly. When she looked up, Bryce had left.
****
For some reason, Bud stuck up for
her. Bud, the man he grew up with, his former best friend, another thing he lost when Emelia left.
He and Bud grew up on the same block, went to school together, got into too much trouble together, and then became prospects for Hell Ryders together. Bud, like him, didn’t like the chase. He liked easy women and took plenty. When Ripper met Emelia, nothing changed except they didn’t fuck taps in the same room. Ripper had Em, and she was all he needed. Bud never got it. Bud never said so, but Rip knew. When she left, Bud proved it by expecting him to bounce back. Bud gave him time. The problem—there’d been no bouncing back from her. She was the only woman he’d ever loved, the only woman who’d ever loved him, or so he thought. He came to realize after she left, she’d been the love of his life, and a man lost the one woman for him, he was lost forever.
Bud had never fallen, so he’d never understand, not until he fell too.
Needless to say, Bud wasn’t Emelia’s biggest fan, yet he’d defended her. A part of Rip was glad Bud stepped in. Bree had been there and that bastard had been cursing and disrespecting her mom in front of her, something Rip hadn’t noticed until after Bud involved himself. But Rip also hated it had been Bud and not him who made things better for Bree, for Emelia. That was immature, maybe, but he didn’t want Emelia indebted to anyone but him.
This reminded Ripper of a simple truth he knew but still hadn’t come to terms with. He still loved her, loved her just as much if not more than he’d loved her then.
Emelia may not be his old lady anymore. She may have left him, but she had once been his. She was the mother of his child, and he was protecting her. In the biker world, the simple fact she had once been his meant she was his. It meant he made the decisions regarding her, including whether or not to handle a bastard yelling at her. As his brother, Bud shouldn’t protect the woman who left him anyway. The fucked part of it, Ripper wouldn’t care under other circumstances—if she were really still his.
Clenching his jaw until it cramped, he waited until Bud finished with the bastard. It took a good fifteen minutes since Bud had to rearrange the idiot’s attitude. Bud ignored his glare and started walking away.
Ripper stepped in front of him. “She’s mine.”
He smirked. “Thanks, but I don’t want an old lady. I wanted one, I’d get one that wouldn’t run out on me without telling me I’m gonna be a dad.”
Exactly what to say to get him to snap. It’d been so long since he had. Since he found Emelia and Brianna, he fought hard to control that anger he lived with. Sometimes, he failed, especially with Emelia but never like this, like he used to after having just lost her. He knew what he was doing, knew it wasn’t right, and he knew Bud was trying to rile him like he had the habit of ever since Emelia left him, but Rip couldn’t hold back. He lost it.
Launching himself at Bud, the impact sending them both onto the ground, he punched his former best friend right in the middle of his face. He didn’t stop, slamming his fist into him repeatedly until Stone and Mellow hauled him off. On his feet, he glared at Bud, nose broken, blood gushing from it, his right eye swelling. Bud sat up, spit, and smirked like Rip’s life being shit was funny.
“Fuck you.” He pushed Mellow and Stone off him and strode away.
He didn’t know how he managed it. Nothing more he wanted than to beat Bud some more, yet somewhere inside, he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
It wouldn’t turn back time.
It wouldn’t change the past.
It wouldn’t make her tell him the reason she left or make her want to stay.
And it sure as hell wouldn’t make her love him.
****
Em heard the commotion, and without drawing Bree’s attention, she neared the window with clear view of the front lot. There, she saw proof of what she’d since figured out.
Bryce and Bud were no longer friends. They went way back and were part of the same club, but what had once been wasn’t anymore.
A damned shame, those two had been as thick as thieves. If you asked her, she would’ve said hell would freeze over before something came between them. Only natural, she wondered what had.
****
Weeks went by, and nothing much changed. Emelia woke early each morning, made breakfast for Bryce, Bree, and herself then got Bree ready for school and kissed Bree goodbye. Afterward, she cleaned a bit and got ready for work. After work, she made dinner. After they ate, while Bryce went to the gym, she spent some time with Bree. Later, after getting Bree ready for bed, Bryce came to say good night. Em then told her a bedtime story. After Bree fell asleep, Em cleaned up some more then showered and headed for bed. When she woke the next morning, she started the process over again.
Good news, last week she received two boxes of her and Bree’s belongings sent by Naomi who insisted on shipping them instead of selling the items as Em had asked her to. This meant Em had less laundry to do and Bree had some extra toys to play with. More good news, Em paid off her landlord for breaking the lease, and Naomi told her she got a couple of calls from people interested in buying her car. Naomi was in the process of selling the rest of her stuff, furniture and some other belongings as well. Em insisted Naomi keep the money considering her friend was doing all the work and more for her, but Naomi refused, which meant Em would have some money coming in from the sale of her car that would go into savings.
Another bit of good news, her job got easier as the days passed. That also had something to do with the fact that her third day, the brothers stopped using her as their personal assistant, meaning her work load lessened. She was ninety-nine percent sure that had something to do with Bryce since her second day, he walked into the office while she’d been ordering lunch for Bud, Blaze, and Rake, and he gave her a look she’d become way too familiar with—the look telling her he was close to “losing” it. He hadn’t said a word to her. In fact, with the exception of the talk they had about Bree’s birthday, he hadn’t said more than five words to her at a time. When he said five words to her was usually when he took Bree somewhere. “Taking Bree. Be back later.” Bryce barely looked at her either. It sucked. She hated being ignored by him, but she wasn’t inclined to do anything about it. She knew any topic opened for discussion had the potential to make him angry and being ignored was better than being his emotional punching bag. She hadn’t even mentioned he tell her where he planned to take Bree because she came to the realization she had to get used to not knowing where Bree was at all times. When she and Bree moved out of the compound, Bree would undoubtedly spend whole days and nights with her father, and Em wouldn’t know where they planned to go or what they planned to do.
The last bit of good, Bree’s birthday went off without a hitch. Five days before her birthday, Bryce told her they’d have Bree’s birthday party at the compound. He said she needed to get together with Allie and Mia to help her plan it. He also told her he bought Bree a playground, which he’d assemble in the backlot of the compound. He said the gift was from both of them, and he wouldn’t take any money from her for the gift or the party. Then he strode away without letting her say a word. She, Allie, and Mia planned the party, consisting of the club, the old ladies, Della, who had become good friends with Bree, and Cullen, Dodge’s son. Bryce had the playground built the day before. Emelia baked the cake. Each old lady brought a side, and two of the brothers handled the grill. Simple, easy, and most importantly, Emelia had never seen Bree so happy.
Bree settled in fine. On weekday afternoons, after Bree got home from school, she did her homework in the office with her. Afterward, she spent time with Bryce until Emelia clocked out at five. Weekends, Bryce took her on excursions. She only found out where when they came home, and Bree rushed to tell her where her father had taken her, what he bought her, what she ate, and so on.
As for Bryce, besides ignoring her, he took Bree to school, worked at the garage, spent countless hours with Bree, and some nights, he left. Emelia had no idea where he went, but she’d seen several of the brothers leave on what they called “r
uns.”
Once upon a time, those “runs” consisted of running guns and drugs. After the club got clean, it meant something different—their version of cleaning up the streets of Wadden, ensuring no illegal dealings happened in their town. This was what caused Chained and Hell Ryders to come at odds back then since Chained wanted to continue running guns and drugs through Wadden. Bryce said the club was still clean. When the brothers went on runs, they probably did the latter. However, she’d overheard several brothers talk about “guards,” and once, she’d seen Prez hand over an envelope with a lot of money to Mellow, meaning she didn’t know with certainty if the club was still clean and didn’t ask Bryce or anyone else.
She knew club life, and in club life, the brothers shared what they wanted with their old ladies. Before, Bryce had shared plenty though not everything with her. Now, she wasn’t his old lady, just the mother of his daughter. Whatever Bryce’s reason for protecting her, she appreciated. He hurt her. Absolutely, but after what she’d done, he didn’t owe her anything.
She and Bree were both in danger because of Chip. Still, she loved her cousin, always had and always would. She thought about him every hour of every day. Each time, she prayed he’d get better, prayed to hear some news. She hadn’t heard from Track or anyone else from Chained. As bad as she wanted to know, she wasn’t stupid enough to call and find out. Calling could lead the Falcons to Hell Ryders’ door. She couldn’t risk the club that was protecting her and Bree, couldn’t risk Bryce, couldn’t risk Bree, and so, she’d had no news for three weeks.
Thinking on this, not paying much attention to the order she was in the process of making, she heard a scream pierce the air. She knew that scream, a scream she felt in her bones.
She stood so suddenly the chair she sat on smashed against the back counter. With her heart in her throat, she rushed around her desk and the counter, jogging out the door leading into the garage. The door banged shut behind her. She scanned the area, her stare coming to a stop when she spotted Bree. Only then did she finally take a breath.
Riding Blind Page 12
