Page 72 of Tempting Fate

“Is Joseph here?” I ask.

“Wait here,” Zeke orders as I climb off his bike. “I’ll find out what’s goin’ on.”

Satisfied that he’ll get to the bottom of things, I lean back against the sissy bar. I roll my eyes when Zeke snags a smoke from Toker and joins the huddle of Shamrocks hierarchy out the front of the closest shed. Although I understand the stress he’s under, seeing him reach for a kick of nicotine is annoying. Sure, it’s not quite in the same realm of self-harm, but I doubt he’d like me to pick up a razor and start slicing my skin again to avoid my feelings.

The Inadale chapter’s president joins the new arrivals from our chapter, and they chat while their other brothers mill around—stretching, lighting cigarettes, and just generally shooting the breeze while they wait to be told what to do. When Zeke approaches, he exchanges words with my father, then the conversation dies.

I can feel the tension from here.

“Little Cherub.” Dad beckons for me with a sharp wave. “Come here.”

Since wasting their time seems counterintuitive, I push down my residual anger at my dad’s attitude and rush over to the group. When I reach them, my pulse kicks up into a sprint and my mouth runs dry. It’s unusual for anyone outside of the patched members of the MC to come along on club business, so to say I’m feeling a little out of my depth would be an understatement.

Looking to Zeke for comfort, I find he’s staring at the ground.

Nobody else acknowledges me, except my father.

There’s an undercurrent to the tension that makes my hair stand on end.

“You sure you can handle this?”

Squaring my shoulders, I meet Dad’s eyes and answer his terse question. “Yes, I’m sure.”

I contemplate what I’m going to ask, doing my best to muster the courage needed to request what I really want.

My father isn’t going to take it very well. He prides himself on how tough his kids are, and I’m about to let him down big time.

“Dad.” I pause for a second as I try to find the words I need. “I don’t want to be the one who deals with Alex.” Although I cut my gaze to Zeke for backup, I’m left hanging. He’s still concentrating ridiculously hard on stamping out his cigarette butt. “I want Zeke to handle things for me. I only want to observe.”

At the mention of his name, Zeke jerks his head upright. Doubt clouds his harsh features. Realisation dawns that he didn’t really believe a word of what I said to him before we rode out here, and I glare at him until he offers me a wry smirk.

So much for trusting me like he expects me to trust him.

“Fuck, no,” Dad exclaims. “That’s not happenin’.”

He swings toward Zeke and grabs him by the front of his jacket. My man clenches his fists, and Slash makes a move to separate them.

I motion Slash to stop, and I step up to my dad instead, grabbing the arm he’s holding Zeke with and tugging on it.

He ignores me, glaring at my fiancé.

“Did you put her up to this?”

My father spits his question at Zeke as maliciousness darkens his tone. Thankfully, Zeke just regards him impassively, and refuses to dignify his ridiculous statement with an answer. Every person who knows me is aware that I have a mind of my own. My choices are mine. Good, bad, ugly, and somewhere in between, I’m rarely talked into things I don’t want to do, and I’m even less likely to be swayed from a path I’ve chosen without a damn good argument.

For better or worse, my stubbornness has been a boon and a bane.

Time will tell which category my choice to attend this meeting falls into.

“Dad, for crying out loud.” I pull harder on my father’s arm. “Will you stop all this macho crap today and listen to me? Please.” It’s the most irritating reaction to have in front of this group of men, but I can’t help the tears of anger that well in my eyes and threaten to spill over if I so much as blink. Everywhere I turn, I come up against another roadblock. “I don’t understand why you have such a grudge against Zeke today.” Eyes burning, I gesture between them with my free hand. “But it stops now. I need to see Alex dead, but I can’t be the one who does it. I’m not built like that. I’m not built like you.” My voice shakes as I plead with him to understand what I’m saying. “For my peace of mind, I need Zeke to do it. He’s been through everything with me, right from the start, and I want him to be at the end, too.”

At that declaration, Dad releases Zeke with a shove. My man stumbles backward a few steps before regaining his balance. Expression tight with rage, he appears ready to launch himself at my father, but he backs down when Slash loops a heavy arm around his shoulder.

When I take a step toward Zeke, Dad gathers me against his chest in a bone-crushing hug that is impossible to resist. “I get what you’re asking, little Cherub, but that’s not the outcome we’re here for… even if we were, I wouldn’t allow you to give that useless prick the opportunity.”

I pull back as far as I can from my father until there’s enough space for him to see the full depth of my anger at his current behaviour. He doesn’t even blink in the face of it. Always right, even when he’s wrong, his rigid posture and indignant expression displays his sense of self-righteousness for all to see.

“Don’t talk about Zeke like that.”

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