Page 125 of Blade

“Well, that’s over with. Maybe now things can get back to normal. It’s been a crazy few weeks. I need to go over to the house and start going through Grams’ things. I need to decide what I’m going to do next.”

Micah looked down at me. “What do you mean, next?”

“Well, I need to decide what to do with the house. I need to decide how long I’ll be here.”

He turned me so I was facing him with his hands on my shoulders.

“Baby, it’s already decided.”

Tilting my head in confusion, I waited for him to continue.

“You’re staying here. We’re gonna live in that big house and fill it with babies.”

“What?” I whispered. “You want me to stay?”

“Of course I want you to fucking stay. I told you I was never letting you go again. Did you think I was lying?”

I dipped my head to look at the ground, and Micah bent down, lifting my chin with his finger.

“Baby? I promised you I would never lie to you again. I love you.”

“He’s right, baby girl. You’re staying right here. We’ll talk about Blade living there with you later,” my father added, pulling me away and tucking me into his side.

Micah stood tall, facing my dad. “No discussion needed. She’s mine. She’s always been mine.”

Pushing me behind him, my dad countered, “Seems to me you neglected to make that claim. Twice,” holding two fingers up.

“I’m making that claim now, here in church, in front of my president.”

I searched the room for King. He stood by the door, a finger over his lips, and motioned me to him. Ducking away, I slipped through the double doors quietly.

“Let them hash it out. You and I have plans,” he said, taking my hand and leading me out the front door.

“We do?”

“Yup, and it’s gonna piss them both off. You game?”

Looking back at the clubhouse briefly, I turned and smiled at King.

“Absolutely.”

He handed me a helmet and climbed on his bike. Holding out his hand so I could slide on behind him, he torqued up the throttle. Just as we took off through the gate, my father and my man came running out to the parking lot.

I threw my head back and laughed at the look on their faces.

King and I rode all around town and before I knew it, we were pulling up at The Ice Cream Shoppe.

Yes, that was the name.

We climbed off the bike, and he took my hand, dragging me through the front door.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, following him up to the counter.

“I’m taking my niece out for her first ice cream.”

“I’m twenty-five.” I chuckled. “I’ve had ice cream before.”

“Hey, work with me here. This is a rite of passage for an uncle. It’s not my fault it took two goddamn decades,” he grumbled, looking up at the menu hung on the wall.

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