my dad the same. I heard my dad say, “Heckler,” and sucked in my breath. Jesus. This was their president and their enforcer, or one of them, as Channing had put it. That other guy…I hadn’t gotten a good look at him. Was that their VP?
Cross and Jordan moved closer to us, taking up my back.
Maxwell noticed that and skimmed me up and down. “Gotta say, I’m not a fan of riding for three days and walking in to hearing a daughter bitching out her old man. That’s not how things work in our world. Being grateful goes a long fucking way.”
Yeah. Fuck him, too.
I responded, “All due respect, Mr. Raith, that’s family business, and if you think my father’s been a great father to me, then it’s really just family business.”
The other biker who’d come with him was staring at me. He had white hair almost all over him, even his beard. And his eyes, they were ice blue, almost a gray/white color as well. He was a bit more solid than Maxwell, built like a square versus the broad shoulders and lean waist build of his president, but there was no mistake, that guy was all muscle. He took his sunglasses from where they’d been shoved on top of his head and smirked. “Derrick, you got a feisty daughter there.”
My dad grunted, moving closer to me. “Don’t I know it. Are you guys passing through town?”
Maxwell pulled his gaze from me to my dad. “We all need to sit down. We’ll talk about it then.” He turned back to me. “Knowing what your brother does now. Now where you ended up taking a job…is this going to be a problem?”
I opened my mouth.
My dad said, “My daughter ain’t a snitch.”
“Even so.” Maxwell nodded to his man. “Take her phone while she’s here.” He looked at Cross and Jordan. “Them too.”
Heckler moved in, an eerie gleam in his grin, showcasing some blinding white teeth. “With pleasure.” He stepped in front of me, eyebrows arched. “Hand ’em over.” His glance went to Cross. “If you don’t, I got no problem searching for ’em. You too, boys.”
“We’ll just keep them while you’re here. Once you leave, Heckler will give them back.” Max’s shoulders suddenly drooped, and he yawned, raking his hand through his hair and beard. “I’m fucking exhausted, Bettina.”
The waitress moved in, her voice caring. “You want a place to rest your head or freshly brewed coffee?”
He took her in, his eyes lingering as he looked at her from top to bottom, then his mouth twitched. “How about a private room, you and me? And then coffee afterwards?”
Her smile turned a whole lot more warm. “You got it, Boss.”
She took his hand, and as she began to lead him away, he looked over his shoulder. “Sort your shit, Derrick, then get your kid out of here. We got church tonight.”
Heckler stuffed all our phones in his pocket, but then he moved away too. A couple girls came over to greet him, and he put his arms around both. They moved to the other side of the bar, and soon, one of the girls was straddling him while the other began rubbing his shoulders. Shrieks of laughter and moaning soon came from his corner.
Everyone else went back to what they’d been doing before, but the mood seemed lighter for some reason. Lighter, but also more serious at the same time.
I was distracted when my dad asked gruffly, “You got more to yell at me about?” A pained expression in his gaze held my tongue, and he added into the pocket of silence, “I am sorry for being a crap father. I know all you said was right, and that I’m in the wrong. I get heated, speaking too fast, but you’re right about all of it. And Channing’s done a great job.” He drew in a breath, those eyes flashing wetness for a second. He raised a hand, touching my shoulder and he had to take a moment. Swallow. Then his head dipped down as he lightly squeezed my shoulder. “He did good. You do what you gotta do, and I mean that in every way.”
I’d been holding in oxygen, and it seemed like I’d been holding it in since he got out of prison.
Hearing his words now, that huge boulder in my stomach dissolved. I was blinking back tears, and I didn’t know how to handle that.
This was not my old dad. He had changed.
“Thanks, Dad.”
His eyes were so sad,