Page 80 of Suspicious

I have been in the kitchen for most of the morning with Sadie, Rhyan, Ellie, and Navy, prepping the food for today’s festivities while the guys are setting up the games. Clover, Haven, and Ingrid are preparing decorations and adding the final touches, while Livvy is keeping Poppy and Louis occupied so we can surprise them with how everything looks once it’s done.

I have to admit it’s nice to have a day where we can relax and enjoy some fun without having to think about all the crap that’s going on in our lives at the moment.

Today, we celebrate.

Tomorrow, we go back to fighting.

Clover rushes into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. “Okay, we’re ready out here. If you guys wanna come join us?”

With huge smiles, us girls quickly walk out into the main clubroom to see it all decked out. The sofas that usually sit in the middle of the room are gone, along with the tables and chairs, making the huge open space transformed into a combat zone. Giggling to myself, I glance around, taking in all the different zones.

Zone One looks to me like a paintball course. Then, a huge divider wall breaks into Zone Two, and from the axes on the floor and the targets on the wall, it’s safe to assume it’s an ax-throwing area. Zone Three has a trail leading outside with little arrows pointing the way. Furrowing my brows as everyone takes in the crazy that’s about to go down, I lean into Sadie beside me and whisper, “What’s in Zone Three?”

She giggles. “They have made an archery zone outside, literal bows and arrows. I swear, the shit Alpha does for Poppy is going to give my kid a complex,” she jokes.

Smirking, I rest my hand on her shoulder. “So, no archery for your little one’s birthday, then?”

Sadie snorts out a laugh. “Oh, geez, the little one is only two months baked at the moment and not even born. I don’t even want tothinkabout birthdays yet. I’m still trying to decide on names at this point.”

Wrapping my arm around her, I grin. “You’re gonna be a great mom, Sadie.”

She leans into my embrace. “I sure hope so.”

“Okay, listen up, everyone!” Alpha calls out, gaining ourattention. “Livvy is about to bring in the kids. Is everyone ready?”

We all nod, including the members from NOLA.

Alpha sends out a loud whistle. “Okay, Liv, bring them on in!”

We all turn toward the hall, where Livvy steps out with a one-year-old Louis on her hip and a now eight-year-old Poppy beside her, holding her hand.

“Yeah, that’s my stepbrother. Go, Louis,” Hurricane from NOLA calls out. Ingrid slaps her stepson on the chest to shut him up.

The rest of us chuckle while they continue to make their way out into the clubroom. We all grin, seeing Poppy wearing a camo-style T-shirt paired beautifully with a bright pink tulle tutu, black leggings, and a green beret, and don’t forget the toy rifle strapped over her shoulder. Finishing off her outfit are the green war paint stripes that are swiped across her cheeks like she is ready for battle.

Honestly, it is the cutest damn thing I have ever seen.

Alpha folds his arms over his chest, furrowing his brows. “Are you wearing a fucking tutu?” he asks Poppy as she steps up to her father.

Poppy smiles wide, swirling from side to side. “Yeah, isn’t it pretty, Daddy?”

He throws his hands in the air in confusion. “You said you wanted fucking war games, Poppy. Not anything, girlie?”

She raises her brow like he is being ridiculous. “What? And I can’t look like a princess while throwing axes. That’s so sexist, Dad!” she sassily mocks.

Alpha snaps his eyes to Livvy, and she shrugs. “I mean, technically, she’s not wrong.”

Haven giggles beside him, then sidesteps him, moving down to hug Poppy. “You can kick ass in any kind of clothing, Hummingbird—”

“Hey, don’t encourage her with that codename bullshit, Haven. She’s Poppy. She’s my little girl, and if you wanna wear a fucking tutu and camos to your war game-themed birthday, then you go ahead, baby girl. You look beautiful. Happy Birthday, princess,” Alpha says, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Poppy giggles, embracing Alpha. “Thanks, Daddy, but I’m not a princess. I just look like one. I’m more of a badass rebel who looks good doing it.”

Alpha scoffs, rolling his eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Will someone get this kid a motherfucking paintball gun or an ax or some shit?”

Poppy beams in excitement. “Yes! Let’s get this party started,” she chimes, racing off for the paintball zone, grabbing Wes and Bayou from NOLA on the way through.

Ingrid and South step up to Livvy, and South reaches for Louis. “C’mere, my little man.”

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