Page 41 of Kneeling to Candy

“Piero is an ally,” Atlas persists sternly.

Chase looks up at the ceiling, sighing loudly. “This hurts my soul to admit this—especially when I think the fucker has a soft spot for Simone. But I’m with Prez. Piero isn’t trying to sneak one past us. Trust me. I’ve hacked into this guy’s life deeper than most. Like many of you, I questioned why he wanted to befriend us. He’s clean—for a mobster. If there was something sketchy, I would’ve found it.”

“Are you sure you’re not letting your bias for the dude tint your glasses rose-colored?” Punk questions his best friend.

Chase scowls at Punk. “What fucking bias? The mobster has a thing for my wife. I have more reason to dislike him than most.”

“So the fact Piero took out Simone’s ex isn’t swaying your opinion?” Punk challenges.

Speaking is a bitch. Yet sometimes it’s a necessity, especially when tensions are on the rise. Clearing my throat, I let my opinion be known.

“Piero took out Trent Grills because he stole from the Bianchi mob. Plain and simple. Perhaps his affection for Simone had some influence on his course of execution. But we don’t know shit about what went down. We’re all speculating at this point. Same with Piero’s character. We’re divided, some thinking he’s dirty-er, and some believing he’s on our side.”

The room falls silent, all eyes on me.

I get it. The freak with the neck scar and typically mute-by-choice speaking more than a few words is unusual.

I clear the roughness from my throat again. “It doesn’t hurt questioning Piero. If he’s our ally, he’ll be transparent with us.”

We’re quiet for a long moment, waiting to see how Atlas will respond.

Atlas hums discontentedly in his chest as he takes his seat. “Fine. I’ll ask for Piero to join us first thing tomorrow morning. We’ll inform him what we know and hear him out. Meeting adjourned.”

“HOOYAH!” we shout as a squad.

CHAPTER TWELVE

CANDY

What in the motherhood hell did I willingly get myself into?

I stand in the middle of a brightly painted rainbow themed nursery with white furnishings, hundreds of stuffed animals, and baby gadgets galore. The room smells like baby power—odd, since Opal’s daughter hasn’t been born yet.

To confirm she hadn’t delivered while I was away with the team in Sacramento, I discreetly peek at her stomach.

Nope. Still pregnant.

My bubbly friend is sporting a tiny baby bump and glowing like the angel she is. It’s cute if you’re into the whole pregnancy vibe. To me, it looks like a never-ending backache.

“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Opal gushes with enthusiasm, turning in a circle as she motions with her hands at the nursery. “Gauge told me to decorate it however I wanted it. He said to give our baby girl the room every little princess deserves.”

Gag.

Perhaps I’m being too judgy. I’m sure most little girls would love a room that looked like the board game Candy Land exploded on the walls.

“It’s…” I try to think of something positive to say off the top of my head, “…vibrant.”

There. That sounded nice. At least coming from me, it’s nice.

Opal beams, her smile reaching her ears. “Thank you. I want it to be a happy place for Aurora.”

“Aurora?”

Opal nods, still smiling. She cradles her belly affectionately. “Gauge said our daughter will be an MC princess. I thought giving her a Disney princess name was fitting.”

Poor kid is going to be smothered to death in frilly dresses. I imagine a cherub-cheeked, blond-haired baby with a rainbow colored ruffled dress twice the size of her body, hopelessly trying to crawl. I shake the scary image from my head, breaking out in goosebumps.

Babies are terrifying creatures. They’re noisy, sticky, and demanding little versions of their parents. Let’s hope Aurora has Opal’s demeanor. Lord help us if she’s anything like her daddy.

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