Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,24
incessant calls regarding the continuance of his case, I’m nearly at my wits’ end. Well, the end of the wits I still have left at my disposal. At this point, I’m sure my wits have flown the coop in search of a better brain to inhabit. Where Mr. Jackson is fighting for his rights, Mr. Grant seems to get off on frustrating me, enjoying the volley between us a bit too much.
At first, I thought his demeanor at the strip club was only because I took him by surprise, but really, it’s all him. It’s not a show of intimidation. His bulging muscles and height did that all on their own. It’s the way he carries himself that grinds at me. His confidence. His determination that those kids belong to him without a single shred of evidence to prove otherwise. The way he takes up all the air around him, leaving absolutely nothing for anyone else to breathe. The fact that I like it in an odd way, something I’ve never felt before in all the cases and men like him I’ve had to go toe-to-toe with over the years. Nothing makes sense when it comes to Eugene Grant.
A part of me notices just how much he seems to love those kids, even when he’s trying to press every aggravating button I have all at once.
On top of it all, Aaron hasn’t called. Not that I’m surprised with the way I left things at the restaurant. In such a lonely world, he’s been my only true friend, apart from Greg. He was my rock and sounding board when a case threw me for a loop. He didn’t deserve to be left there like that, and the guilt has been eating me up inside ever since. I’ve picked up my phone a dozen times over the last few days to call or text him like I normally would, but I could never let myself dial the number. We’ve fought before, but never like this. I have to give him space.
A part of me misses him hovering around, but it’s a bit of a relief to not have to explain my every move to him about this case. More so now that I went in person, unofficially, to speak with Eugene Grant again. He’d have locked me up if he knew and then he would throw away the key in his effort to protect me.
I’ve taken the time to dive deeper into the files Aaron had given me at dinner, though. Natalie and Kevin’s mother didn’t leave this world kindly, going by the photographs Aaron had included. Her sunken eyes and rail thin body lying in the ditch near the truck stop shook me more than I care to admit. I’ve seen things, horrible things, but her death... It’ll haunt me for the rest of my life because when I look into her sad death stare, all I can see is Natalie and Kevin looking back at me.
Their pain.
Their terrible childhood.
How similar their upbringing is to my own.
Flipping through Aaron’s files again, I find where I left off the night before and dive into my work. My notebook is filled with page after page of scribbles—notes, personal thoughts, and possible reasons for why they ended up with the president of a motorcycle club. All of them circle back to Eugene Grant. He’s the key to everything.
My mind drifts off for a few seconds, considering all the secrets he must hold before my desk phone snaps me out of it. I blink twice when I recognize the number that comes across the screen. Aaron.
“H–Hi. I didn’t expect you’d call me—”
“I have some information for you about the Tucker case.” No hello. No sweetness in his voice. It’s cold as ice. “There’s been a missing persons report filed for the kids and an uncle. I emailed it all over to you.”
“Let me open up my email.” Clicking the icon, I find it at the top. “Got it. Do you have any information about the person who filed it?”
“Their father.” He gives me no further information.
“Father?” I flip through the paperwork in front of me. “In all the case files, there’s no indication of their father being in the picture. He’s never sought legal custody.”
“That’s what I was told by the officer who took the report. All the information is there, as well as how to contact him. I put in an order for a background check since I knew you’d ask. They’ll send the