Page 57 of Viper

I roll my eyes, but Eden laughs. “I’ll see what I can do,” she promises.

“And since we’re being all sappy at the moment,” Sadie suddenly announces as she makes her way over. “Then you and I are going to be friends too, because she and I are besties and I’m part of the package. So I’ll be your fun Aunt Sadie that you call when you do something stupid you don’t want them to know about, got it?”

“Like hell,” Eden huffs, glaring at her friend.

Sadie and Archer share a conspiratorial look, and I can already tell this isn’t going to end well, but at the same time, I don’t want to say anything that might discourage it. Archer needs more people in his corner, and something tells me that having Eden, and Sadie by extension, front and center, he’ll never have to worry about being alone or left to figure shit out on his own.

Now I just have to hope that they don’t involve him in their shenanigans. The bail fund isn’t going to stretch to include him, that’s for damn sure.

TWENTY-ONE

VIPER

My son will always know that he can come to me with anything. Even if it hurts me.

I drop the women off at Sadie’s apartment, and then discreetly follow Eden back to her place in my truck. I make sure that it’s clear of anyone that might be lurking around, and while I want to stay with her, I know I need to get back to the clubhouse. So instead, I kiss her goodbye, tell her to keep her phone close in case she needs me, and then head out.

When I reach my truck, my phone buzzes with a message and I groan when I read it.

Eden: See you later, Daddy.

This woman is going to be the death of me. I fucking swear. My cock hard, and nothing I can do about it right now, I send her back a quick message.

Viper: Baby girl, Daddy’s going to spank you for making me hard without you around to help me. And I owe you a few spankings for that elbow to the kidney earlier. So behave or I’ll be coming back up there and you won’t be sitting comfortably at work in the morning.

Eden: Promise?

Instead of answering, I put down my phone and start my truck. I need to get back to the clubhouse before I make good on my threat. Not to mention, Archer and I probably should talk without Eden there. And yeah, I probably shouldn’t have put him on the spot like that at the clubhouse, but at the same time, Archer and I have always been that way. The club is our family, and we’re so used to being open around them, it’s just second nature. But I should give him a chance to voice any concerns to me when we’re alone.

Sometimes, this whole Dad thing is hard, and I know I make a lot of mistakes, but thankfully, Archer doesn’t seem to hold any of them against me, and he seems to be pretty well adjusted so I don’t think I’ve fucked up too badly.

My phone starts to ring, and when I glance at my dash screen, I sigh. Maggie didn’t message much yesterday, so I guess she’s about to make up for it. Reluctantly, I answer the call. “Hello, Maggie,” I say calmly.

“Don’t you hello Maggie me,” she screams into the phone. Great, so this is going to be one of those calls. “Where the fuck are you? Where is Archer?”

“Archer is fine and is at the clubhouse while I ran an errand,” I say simply. “He was playing video games when I left.”

“So you left him alone with those disgusting buddies of yours?” she screeches. “What kind of father are you? I’m going to have this stupid custody nonsense revoked as soon as I can get before a judge again. And this time, I’m going to make sure you lose. And you’ll have to pay me so much money you’ll be broke and begging like you should be.”

I bite back the retort I want to blast her with. “Are you calling to threaten me, Maggie, or did you need to tell me something?”

“I’m calling to tell you to bring Archer home right the fuck now,” she barks.

“Maggie, the judge gave me joint custody, which means he’s staying with me for the court appointed amount of time. I will have him back to you on Sunday evening at six on the dot. I know you’re not happy about the new arrangement, but this is what the judge gave us, and I’m damn happy for it.”

“The only fucking reason you want him with you is so you don’t have to pay me what you owe me,” she sneers. “You think I wanted to be tied to you for the rest of my life? To see a miniature you walking around all the fucking time?”

My blood runs cold at her statements. She’s never said anything before about resenting Archer in any way. It was always about the money, but I’ve always genuinely thought she loves our son. Have I been wrong all this time? “So is that what you want out of all of this?” I ask her carefully, taking the next road that will head straight for the clubhouse. “You want Archer to be with me but for me to pay you as if he was still with you?” At this point, if that is all it takes, I’ll gladly do it, because I will never allow my son to be somewhere he thinks he’s not loved or wanted.

“And then have you claim you don’t owe me anything? Fuck that,” Maggie scoffs. “The only way I get the money I deserve is when Archer is with me full-time and you never get to lay eyes on him unless I say so. But you had to screw that all up by going to the courts and begging to have him. You don’t love Archer. You love the fact that you get to fuck me over.”

Is she fucking high right now? That can only explain why she’s talking like this. “Maggie, I love Archer more than life itself, and that will never change. The only way that you’re going to get the money you want is if we can come to some sort of agreement out of court where Archer is with me full-time and I’ll pay you a set amount as a stipend or something for a certain length of time. Otherwise, the agreement stays, and you can try and fight it as much as you want. But you need to consider what that will do to Archer. Dragging him through messy courtroom battles for money is only going to make you look terrible in his eyes, and that will be no one’s fault but your own.”

“I want my money,” she screams like a pissed off toddler. “You owe me, and you’re going to regret it if you don’t pay up.”

If I ever needed confirmation that Maggie’s on something, this conversation is it. This is not her. This is someone else, who is only concerned about the money she needs for her next fix. “Are you drunk, Maggie?” I ask her point blank. “Or high? Is that why you’re so desperate for the money?”

“I want the money because you owe me,” she screams again. “What I do with it is up to me. So get me my money, or I’ll have Tony come and kick your ass.” Then she hangs up, and I’m left to sit here and figure out what the hell I’m going to do about this.

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