“Nowhere to fuck off to,” I said glumly, then, taking a deep breath, asked, “Heard she got in.”
Dagger grunted. “Also hear that she ain’t going?”
My mouth twisted. “No. But I knew she wouldn’t.”
“Full fucking scholarship. I wouldn’t have been happy with her going that far, Ink, but fuck. All that talent? It should be channeled somewhere. Instead, it’s going to go to waste because of that bastard.”
The sins of the fathers had a habit of being visited upon the sons, or in this case, the daughter.
Flame, the Enforcer of the MC, had slain a cartel foot soldier back when Ama had been five or so. The fucker’s messed up son had decided to get vengeance for his numbskull dad by abducting her and making her pay for her fathers’ sins.
It was so Old Testament it was a joke, but then, that was our world. We worked with vengeance and vendettas on the regular. The life of an MC wasn’t all flowers and lace, but blood and tears.
For Ama?
I’d have wished the former, but she’d been dealt the latter.
If I could have killed Aaron Sanchez again, I would have. In the blink of an eye.
I knew Ama had panic attacks. She suffered with anxiety, barely slept a full night through without nightmares, and each and every time it made me wish that I’d had more time with the bastard. More time to make him pay, to make him suffer.
Dagger’s hand landed on my shoulder and he squeezed. “I know you care about her, man.”
I cut him a look. “Of course, I do.”
His eyebrow arched, and with the narrowing of his eyes, I knew he was calling me on my bullshit.
Rubbing my chin, I mumbled, “Ain’t gonna do anything about it.”
“Don’t see why not. Maybe you’ll take the fucking nightmares away.”
I doubted that. But then again, Dagger didn’t know Ama sneaked into my room some nights, climbed into bed beside me and hugged me like I was a real-life teddy bear.
This wasn’t a new development, of course. Since she was seventeen, she’d taken to doing it, and the first time, I’d almost shot her when she’d slipped under the covers with me. Now? It just curtailed who I fucked and when, because the last thing I wanted her to see was some sweetbutt in bed with me.
She had nightmares whether she was with or without me, but I wasn’t about to tell her daddy that, was I?
“I’m too old, man.”
“Maybe.” His voice lowered as he murmured, “This ain’t my idea.”
“No?” I scowled at him. “Then whose idea is it?”
“Lucie’s.”
I winced. Momma bear knew I had a thing for her cub? Fuck. It was a wonder she hadn’t tried to castrate me.
Dagger, spying my reaction, snorted, and his hand squeezed my shoulder, this time though, it was to the point of pain. “Just don’t hurt her.”
Ama had been hurt enough. Saving my own ass wasn’t the reason I’d been steering clear of her.
I was no good.
Never had been, probably never would be.
In fact, the only good things I’d done in my life revolved around her, and what that said about the past thirty-seven years, I wasn’t sure.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I stared at her with the boys and felt jealousy curdling in my gut.
She was always with those two. Always. And if I’d seen desire for me in her eyes, I knew I’d seen it in her gaze when she looked at Keys and Saint too.
“I think she wants them,” I rasped, tossing out the idea to him, and hoping he wasn’t about to skin me alive for my audacity.
All her fathers were protective of Ama. Not that I could blame them, considering her past. But Flame, in particular, took protective to the next level.
I didn’t even want to think about what had happened to that boy who’d tried to force himself on her at a party… for the rest of his life, he’d be pissing with a bent cock, that was for sure.
“Probably. Can’t be raised in a family like ours without being open to the possibility.”
My eyes widened. “You wouldn’t be pissed?”
“Me? Nah. Flame?” Dagger’s grin was toothy. “Probably. But he likes you. Likes Saint and Keys too. I’m sure if you make her happy then he’ll take it easier on you.”
My eyes widened because, fuck, I was scared of very few people, but Flame was close to