worked. When they were going to try something else, he decided against it. He died two months later.”
It was amazing how such a torturous time, one loaded with pain, suffering, misery, and grief, could be condensed into one chilly paragraph.
“You bring his ashes back?” Wheels asked. He ran our garage in Rutherford, and was pretty much a shoo-in for Road Captain.
“Of course.” She cleared her throat. “He’d have wanted the full works.”
“That’s what he’ll get.” I gently cupped her shoulder. “Kid, as always, was resilient. To the point where he was able to fabricate Ben Franklins… Anyone in the class know what a ghost gun is?”
Slugger, a brother I wanted as Sergeant-at-Arms if he’d stop thinking with his dick and start using his brain, called out, “Weapons with no licenses, no purchasing orders, and no need for registration.” He whistled. “Kid was making that shit? Bastard always did ace shop class.”
I snorted at that, because fuck, how had I forgotten that? “Yeah, I remember that now.”
“He figured out a way to build .45 semi-automatics,” Lucie stated.
At her words, the silence in the room was deafening. Especially considering the quantity of brothers in church.
“They’re listening, baby girl,” I told her as I turned away. “The show is yours.” And with that, I returned to my seat at the head of the conference table and let her do what she had to—sell the future of Hell’s Rebels to the hellions themselves.
❖
Lucie
A week later
“Baby, come here.”
Amaryllis’s mouth turned into a pout as she kept her attention fixed on her book.
Sighing, I tried again. “Amaryllis?”
When she ignored me for the second time, I switched between wanting to scream at her and wanting to shake her. Bad, I know, but hell, what was it about kids that tested your limits?
Granted, my limits were lower than most people’s, and I had a tendency to act on things most wouldn’t. But usually where Amaryllis was concerned, I was very patient. I wasn’t sure if that was because I was a super good mother, or if it was down to the fact that normally, at least nine out of ten times, she was well behaved.
After blowing out a breath, I stated, “I need you to put the book down, Amaryllis.”
“I’m at a good part,” she mumbled.
“I’ll bet, but I still need you to come sit with me, darlin’.”
With a huff that was pure drama, and one I couldn’t exactly reprimand her over because she’d seen me do it a thousand times in front of Ryan, she carefully inserted the leather bookmark Ryan had crafted for her, then placed the book down on the stand. Just so. Then, she climbed off the bed we were sharing and stepped toward me on the sofa I was sitting on.
I could have gone to her, but hell, getting her away from the book was a war in itself. I considered this a big win.
We were in one of the spare rooms and I hated it, and I wanted to go and search for a new place for us as a family but I’d been swept up in details since the MC hadn’t ixnayed my proposal. Didn’t mean I wasn’t still chomping at the bit to get us away from the clubhouse.
Something Amaryllis wasn’t facilitating.
I had a feeling she liked it here, which didn’t exactly surprise me—as a kid, I’d liked it here too—but was a concern, nonetheless, because I didn’t want her raised solely around this environment.
A lot of lifers just brought their kids around on Sundays when we had the family get-togethers. That was pretty much it. Only the single parents relied heavily on the club, or those who were in need of childcare.
To my mind, the whole point of being a parent was to do better for your kids than you had. I hadn’t been raised with love from my father, and I’d been raised in a house that was loaded with sluts and chauvinists. Did I want my daughter around that? Nope. But it seemed like she’d been bitten by the bug.
Or should I say, three bugs had bitten her.
“Baby, I need you to lighten up on Daddy Wolfe.”
As predicted, Amaryllis’s stubborn side—something she totally didn’t inherit from me—reared to the surface. She folded her arms across her chest and stuck out her bottom lip.
When no words were forthcoming, I knew this shit was going to be more difficult to resolve than I’d anticipated.
Reaching over to twirl the end of her braid around my fingers, I murmured, “Please, baby?”
“He