I knew he was Prez, and now I’d finally gotten a chance to see the back of the riders’ cuts, I knew who had taken me—Satan’s Knights.
Was I scared?
Not much scared me, not much except for the Grim Reaper, and it figured that it was my turn for a visit from him because the Knights would only have brought me here to kill me.
After they tortured me.
And after they tormented my men with my torture.
The knowledge that I was going to be used against them filled me with rage, but it was useless. Futile. My feelings didn’t matter here. At the moment, I was a commodity. I’d always been that. Something to trade, to use. As much as it infuriated me, I knew I was about to be stashed away in some shitty little cage where the MC kept their prisoners.
Fuck, the Rebels had one in the basement. It was just off the meeting room where they held church, so they could literally go from torturing a goddamn enemy and straight into business mode.
My world was fucked up, but what was more fucked up was that, as the Knights’ Prez walked toward me, I didn’t show a lick of fear. I tipped my chin back and stared him down.
He was in his fifties and, I had to admit, quite handsome for a silver fox. He wore the usual MC uniform of jeans, boots, wifebeater, and cut. In this weather, there was nothing else to wear, and bikers didn’t exactly give a shit about sunburns—not until it hit them and then they whined like motherfuckers.
Truly, I’d seen kids with more stamina when it came to sunburns.
His hair was dark silver, his eyes a light green, and though he had crinkles at the side of his eyes above his strong brows, there was something about him I recognized.
From the mirror.
Fuck.
I had to be wrong.
Reaching up, I rubbed at my temple. “Tell me this is a fucking joke, please?”
The man smirked. “I see you’ve noticed the similarities.”
“There are plenty of—”
“Let’s cut the BS. You know I’m your father.” He stared at me before he clicked his fingers. At his silent command, the bikers spread out, moving away but staying close enough to be able to hustle forward if I did anything stupid like try to run away.
Because, yeah, I’d also had ‘moron’ tattooed on my forehead when I’d had my men’s claims inked into my skin.
I was on their territory, away from everyone I knew, without a weapon or a cellphone thanks to the fact my purse was tucked into Dagger’s saddlebags. Fuck, it was like since I’d come back to Rutherford, I’d left my goddamn brains back in Lubbock.
There was no excuse, no excuse whatsoever.
“You think you’re my dad?” I rasped, even though I had to admit, we did look alike.
“Know it.” His lips twitched. “Maria was my girlfriend before she was Bomber’s old lady.” When he uttered Bomber’s name, he spat, and though it was disgusting, I felt the same way about the bastard who’d reared me.
“Yeah? Well, you forget you had a woman and a baby on the way?”
He shook his head. “Got banged up. Fifteen to twenty.” His smile tightened. “Got out six years ago.”
My brow puckered. “Six years ago?” When I was eighteen?
“Been looking for you ever since.”
Narrowing my eyes at him, I folded my arms across my chest and snarled, “Why? I didn’t need a daddy then and I sure as fuck don’t need one now.”
His smile didn’t falter, but I saw his irritation—probably wasn’t used to females who talked back, well, he was in for a shit time because that was all I did.
“Don’t you? I thought you had a little problem with the Guerreras?” He stressed the word ‘little’ and I wanted, so badly, to flip him the bird, but that wouldn’t exactly be wise, would it? I still had no idea what the dick wanted, and I doubted it was a family reunion considering his MC was at war with the Rebels’.
I gritted my teeth. “What do you know about that?”
“Just something a little birdie told me.”
Frowning, I stared at him. “You tipped them off? Well, thanks a fucking lot, Dad!”
“I did nothing but get you away from those fucking monsters—”
“One of whom happens to be the father of my little girl.”
His shoulders dropped. “No. Ryan Gerrard was your baby daddy.”
I shook my head. “No. His Prez is Amaryllis’s father.” When it hit me, I tensed. “You’d better not be trying to abduct her