Crossroads (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series) - DD Prince Page 0,59
said nothing, just glared at me. My heart skipped a beat. I’d seen this expression a few times in my life but never ever aimed at me.
I forced myself to speak.
“So, I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m a woman and I was offered an opportunity to do it to help some local charities and even with an offer for pay; I said I’d do it for our charity. I was thinking that during the rally, there could be a check presented from me to the Biker Big Bros charity for my earnings. If there’s any offers for ongoing merchandise related to any of my pictures, my royalties will also go to the ch---”
Dad pulled his fist back and then let it fly, punching a hole in the drywall.
I sat down in the chair in front of his desk and clamped my mouth shut. I set the flyer down on his desk face-down.
He glared at me and flipped the paper back over before aggressively punching the digits into his desk phone, eyeballing the flyer.
“Yo. Deke Valentine, president of The Dominion Brotherhood MC, Aberdeen chapter here and I’m standin’ here looking at pictures of my ---” Dad’s tone went more guttural as he finished, saying it through his teeth --- “daughter on your fuckin’ flyer.”
Dad held the phone a minute, his eyes still on me and, no joke, it was as if flames were still coming out of them.
I bit down on my lip and examined my fingernails.
“Find someone else,” Dad clipped.
And then he listened some more.
And then he barked, “Oh, she did, did she? Fuck,” and slammed the phone.
“Out of my sight,” he snapped.
My heart dropped.
I stood. “Dad…”
His knuckles were all raw-looking. He flexed his hand and blew out a stuttered breath. He was trying to calm himself down. I was pretty sure he was failing.
“No. Sit your ass back down.”
I sat. Dad picked up his cell and made a call.
“Ella? Send Spence to my office in the roadhouse now.” He ended the call.
Oh fuck.
He touched the screen again. “Ride? You ‘n Deacon – my office, now. Jess there? Then lock the garage up… no, fuckin’ now.” He put the phone down hard.
He paced back and forth in the small space with aggression rolling off him before he sat down in his chair and singed me with his expression. Yep: I was a pile of charred ash sitting there in the chair. He flipped the flyer back over, so it wasn’t going to be immediately obvious what it was.
Fuck.
I blew out a big breath. Here we go. This was my doing. I didn’t expect to have to do it this soon, but I knew it was coming. I couldn’t feel sorry for myself and I couldn’t be weak about it. I straightened up in the seat.
Rider came in first.
“What’s up?” He looked tweaked, likely because Dad had barked at him and it wasn’t something our father did without reason. He was in coveralls, full of grease, wiping his hands on a rag.
Spencer came in behind him, looking confused.
And then Deacon came in, also looking like he’d been elbow deep in motor oil. Deacon shut the door with an elbow nudge, also wiping his hands on a rag.
“Tell ‘em,” Dad ordered with an eerie amount of calm.
Fuck my life twice. Dad had found some modicum of calm only because he knew that the shitstorm that would come at me in about ten seconds was going to be part one of my punishment.
“I’m an adult. I made a decision. As an adult.”
Rider’s head tilted. Deacon folded his arms across his chest. I flipped the piece of paper and let them see it.
I felt the energy in the room change.
“The photographer that runs this calendar saw me on TV for the charity carwash with my Harley and offered me Miss August this year as a last-minute thing. I signed a release to say I can’t back out. The money I earn is going to the Biker Big Bros charity. I would’ve told you all, but I didn’t know that things would move this quickly and that Dad would get an offer for advertising in it so early.”
Dad lifted an unopened envelope from the other side of his desk and smacked it down beside that one, hard. It was addressed to Valentine Custom Motorcycles – Rider Valentine or Spencer Valentine.
“There, boys. That’s for you.” He gestured at Spencer and Rider.
He looked at Deacon. “Lucky for you, you don’t get your own.”