Page 7 of Blade's Angel

As I get out of the SUV, I follow my Dad inside and can’t help but love the inside of the house just as much as the outside. It's very open and vibrant, and it’s clear he takes pride in his home.

Dad takes me on a small tour of the house, and I can’t get over how fucking nice it is. The kitchen is amazing; it has a double stove that apparently was needed when the twins were growing up because they ate so much food. Which doesn’t surprise me really; my brothers are big men, and imagine that’s always been the case. I can’t imagine they were small as children or teenagers. The middle of the kitchen has a free-standing island that has seats all along one side. His living room has multiple oversized sofas and chairs, which I'm guessing he has because none of the men I have met so far are exactly small; I don't think they'd fit on normal sofas and stuff comfortably. Upstairs, there are four bedrooms and Dad's office. I haven't seen inside all of them yet, just the room Dad has given me.

My room is fucking massive compared to what I’m used to. I’ve got what’s got to be a king-size bed in here; I’m used to just a standard double. I’m not sure I’m going to know what to do with all the space. It’s decorated in neutral tones that give the room a warm and light feeling. I am definitely happy with the space he’s given me, that’s for sure. I've even got my own bathroom, which has a freestanding tub and separate shower stall. I can’t wait to test them both out. I do love a good soak; it always leaves me feeling settled and refreshed.

The house is obviously where he raised the twins, as there are little marks from history all over the place. Like the doorframe into the living room with the little marks going up it, which measured their heights on every birthday since they were big enough to stand. Each mark has a number next to it corresponding to their age, and their names are on the top of each frame. It sort of breaks my heart that there isn’t something like that for me. I hate how I missed out growing up with a parent who actually cared about me; instead, I was stuck with a mother who only saw me as another way to make money. Shaking off the thoughts of my mother; I don’t want to be thinking about her right now. This is a time to focus on the new, not the old. Dad has told me to make myself at home; he wants me to feel welcome, and it really warms my heart. I’m not used to someone caring like this. I’m sure after a little time of being around my family, I’ll get used to it. They all may be big, tough bikers, but from what I’ve seen, they’ve all got hearts of gold and don’t hide when they care about someone.

We spend the rest of the day just talking and getting to know each other. I’m thankful that the topic of my mother hasn’t come up. That’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to. I know he isn’t going to be happy when he finds out all the details of my life. He might not have said anything, but I can tell he’s mad enough about the situation she’s currently put me in with Sabbatini. God knows how he’s going to react when he finds out the ways she used me to make money in the past.

When I was younger, I used to be ashamed of the fact that my Mom sold my body to some sick freaks. Even from a young age, I knew what she was doing wasn’t right. I couldn’t do anything to stop it, though. I had no power in that situation; I was the child, and she was the adult. It took a lot of work on my part, but I’ve come to terms with it all. What happened to me wasn’t my fault; I was just a child who had no control over what was happening to me. My mother should never have put me in the situation she did. I’ve never actually told anyone what she did to me, but I have a feeling I will be telling my entire story sooner rather than later. I just hope no one looks at me differently when they find out. I’m not sure I could deal with that.

Dad spent the time explaining to me the full story of what had gone around here recently. Blade had only told me about Cam arriving and having issues with his Mom. The full story is definitely a lot more than that. Finding out just what poor Cam has been through made me wish I’d arrived a few days earlier. Just so I’d have had the chance to inflict some serious pain on the bitch. In my opinion, she got off easy just being killed. She deserved a hell of a lot more pain and punishment before her worthless life ended, but I understand why the guys didn't; it goes against what they believe, even if the woman deserved the extra pain because who the fuck does something like that to a child all because he looked like his father? Sick bitch. You wouldn’t think to look at Cam that he’d gone through all that at such a young age; he’s such a happy and well-adjusted child. He clearly loves Wrath and Flame.

When I told Dad I wished she was still alive so I could get my hands on her, his eyes flashed with pride, and he got a massive grin on his face. I think he liked the fact that I’m a little bloodthirsty. I think it comes from my own experiences. I know evil; I’ve lived through it, and fuck if I’m going to let evil continue on in this world if I can do anything about it. I don’t care if the person is a man or a woman; if they’re evil, they don’t deserve to be breathing. No one should underestimate me; I’m more than I look at first glance.

When tea time hits, neither of us can be bothered to cook, so we order pizza from a local takeout place that Dad swears is amazing. When it arrives, we settle down to watch some TV. I think we’re both a little emotionally wiped out after today. It’s a lot to adjust to in such a short space of time. We might be father and daughter, but we’re still strangers, treading lightly until we’re both more comfortable.

Finishing my pizza, my eyes begin to drop, and the next thing I know, my Dad is shaking me awake.

“I think you should go get in bed, sweetheart; it's got to be more comfy than falling asleep on the sofa sitting up.” He says softly as I open my eyes.

"Yeah, I think you’re right, Dad.” I reply with a yawn.

Standing up, I drop a kiss on his cheek and take myself off to bed. I don't even bother to undress; I just fall onto my mattress face first. I'm asleep instantly, my body knowing it can rest, and I'm safe.

Chapter Five

Blade

The night Sera arrived, I ended up going with Wrath to talk to both Shadow and Blaze. I could tell he was worried and could use the support. It’s a fucking good job I was there when he told Shadow. He just about lost his fucking mind. I ended up having to pin him to the floor to stop him from going off half-cocked. Thankfully, once he was pinned, Wreck managed to talk some sense into him. Making him see reason. Thank God for Wreck; I don’t think anyone else could have talked sense into him. Don’t get me wrong, Shadow still wants to murder the people causing his sister issues, but he’s waiting until we have a fucking plan now.

Blaze reacted just the way I expected him to. He wanted to know everything we could tell him about his daughter. In all honesty, it wasn’t a lot, but he ate up every little detail. That woman isn’t going to know what’s hit her with Blaze as her father. He’s what I wish my father would have been like. Caring, loving, and supportive. But all in the right way. She’s a lucky woman to have a father like him, even if he is coming into her life late.

I haven’t seen Sera since the night she arrived; actually, I haven’t seen any of the Jacobson’s. I didn’t expect to, though. No doubt they’re all spending time getting to know Sera and adjusting to having a new member of their family. It probably didn’t help that I stayed away from The Clubhouse again. That ends today, though. I have shit that needs to be done and can only be done at The Clubhouse.

I know my self-imposed exile needs to end. I’m an Enforcer. An Officer. I have club duties I need to do that aren’t going to take care of themselves. Jasmine’s presence here isn’t going to change, so I’m just going to have to ignore whatever comes out of her mouth the next time we inevitably cross paths. I have zero doubts that she’s going to carry on her little mission to make my life hell.

My first task of the day, wrangling Prospects for one last weapon training session before Flame finally starts hand-to-hand combat with them. The only Prospect currently missing is Jake, who has a valid reason for not being here. He was shot in the gut protecting Flash when The Clubhouse was attacked by the former Police Chief and is still recovering. When I checked in with Flash, who hasn't left Jake's side since he came out of surgery, he told me Jake is recovering well but hates being limited in what he can do right now. I get that; I don't think any of us like it when we're limited due to injuries. That leaves me with just Pete and Eric.

Pete is young, only eighteen, but shows the right amount of promise when he puts his mind to it. He was actually shot at the same time as Jake, but luckily his wound was just to his shoulder, and he is recovering nicely. Eric, though, I want to fucking punch him in the mouth every time he speaks. He’s overconfident and cocky. I’d understand it if he actually had any talent, but he doesn't. He's mediocre at best. He’s also lazy as fuck; he does the least amount out of all the Prospects. I really don’t see him gaining his patch.

“Right today, is it for weapons. After this, you're all Flame’s.” I say, gleefully. I can’t help it; watching the Prospect’s train with Flame is something else. Actually, it’s so entertaining that nearly the entire MC shows up to watch.

“Great.” Eric says, rolling his eyes.

“Just for that, you can start, Eric. You know what to do.”

I don’t say anything else; I just stand back and watch him make his way over to where I have the targets set up. All he needs to do is shoot the paper target with his handgun, using the entire clip, and then use a few throwing knives. This isn’t about anyone becoming an expert like myself. This is about making sure they can protect themselves and others.

Once Eric is finished, I wait for him to go and collect his target and bring it to me. I can tell by watching that he actually made some decent shots today, but his knife throwing still needs some work.

“Can I go now?” He asks impatiently as he hands me his target.

“No. You can stand and watch Pete just like he did with you.”

Eric pulls his face, but wisely keeps his mouth shut. I’m not in the mood to deal with a mouthy Prospect, and I think he knows it. If he had decided to open his mouth, I’d have been putting him in his place and not by using words.

Pete takes his turn, and I can tell he’s focused on doing the best he can. He’s listened to all the advice I’ve given him and is using it to ensure he’s making the best shots he can. Even with his injured shoulder. I’m actually impressed. I don’t know if everything that happened has caused him to become more focused, but either way, it’s a good thing. He’s definitely improved from the last time we did this.

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