Page 12 of Hyde

“Some things for your mom and me. I got us the cabin for the weekend and just want to set it up before I surprise her. You don’t mind looking after Xander, do you?”

“Gemma’s home this weekend, we’re going to hang out at some point, so who do you prefer I pawn him off on?” I ask Dad, knowing that won’t be a problem since we live within minutes of half his brothers.

“He’s not a puppy, Le-Lee.” Dad sighs through the speaker, and I smile at his use of my childhood nickname. “Check and see if he has plans, then go from there. I heard Gemma’s doing well at school.”

“She loves it,” I admit, wondering for the millionth time if I’ve made the right decision. “Pre-med really suits her.”

Dad just grunts and I smile, almost able to read his mind.

I wasn’t quite the overachiever my mom was when it came to homeschooling, but I finished high school last year and have spent the time since then building cabinets and furniture alongside Dad, plus Shade and his son, Danny.

While Mom’s been after me to at least take a few business classes, I looked into the schools in the surrounding area and eventually had a sit down with Amy, one of the Ol’ Ladies. She has a real estate business and this summer, will take me on as an intern while I get my certification.

Even if I turn out to be a disaster at selling, I hope that Mom will let me take over the day-to-day operations for the portfolio her Gram left us. It encompasses a pretty good size chunk of the town’s commercial real estate. I know that I’ll have to prove myself, but it’s not like I don’t know the buildings and property involved already, so that’s a plus.

Mom and Dad still exchange worried looks over my obsession with checking the mail every day. But we came to a silent agreement several years ago, I don’t ask them if they’ve heard anything about Joe and they stopped pushing me to go to dances or on dates with any of the local guys who’ve asked me out.

“Angel?” Dad’s voice brings me back to the present and I realize I’ve nearly missed my favorite part of the trip.

“Sorry, what?”

“Are we stopping for a cone now or on the way home?” There’s a little mart up this way and ever since I can remember, we’ve stopped for a swirl every time we’ve come up to the cabin that the MC owns.

“Why not both?”

“That’s my girl!” Dad crows and I smile, tightening my arms around his stomach.

We get our cones, both relative to our size, and stand at the small counter that faces out toward the gas pumps. While I’ve been on much longer rides over the years, it always feels good to stretch my legs.

Like the man beside me, I know there will come a day when we won’t have time for these moments anymore and I want to squeeze in as many of our traditions as I can.

“Is Mom disappointed in me?” I feel a bit cowardly, keeping my sunglasses on when I ask the question that’s been weighing on me.

“Never,” he answers without hesitation. “Worried about you? Yes. But she’s excited about your interest in real estate. I hope you’ll consider my business a fallback option if you don’t like it though.”

“I still want to work with you,” I assure him, and he nods, knowing I’m sincere. Just like he also knows, life has a way of taking its own course.

“My sweet angel,” Dad murmurs, looking out of the window with a tight smile on his face. “You have so many options in this world, and I want you to understand, all I really expect us to be, is a place to land if you need it. I don’t want you thinking this one small town, is all there is in life.”

I open my mouth, ready to tell him that I know exactly what I want. That I always have, but just then he looks at his cone in distaste and tosses it in the trash.

“Come on, I expect we’ll have some cleaning up to do,” he says, walking to the door and holding it open for me.

Dad has never let ice cream go to waste before, which tells me how conflicted he is about my choices. I instinctively know that my reassurances won’t mean as much as my actions, so I keep my mouth shut.

The next time I look up is when he stops at the entrance to the driveway. I’m about to question him when I see a beat-up SUV parked near the house. Considering that the Northern Grizzlies own this property, they keep a strict calendar about who uses it when—so there’s no way Dad didn’t check before we headed up here.

“Stay near the trees,” Dad instructs me, handing me his helmet after he parks his bike and pulls his gun out of one of the saddlebags. I know that tone of voice well enough to immediately follow his instructions. Looking over my shoulder, I see him chambering a round and start to feel nauseous. “Stay there until I say otherwise.”

I nod in agreement and watch him approach the house from the side of the driveway. After looking into the front windows, he circles around to the back of the house and my heart feels like it’ll beat out of my chest, especially when I hear a man yelling.

Taking a step forward, I catch some movement from the opposite side of the house that Dad had walked around. Crouching down, I crawl forward for a better look, only slightly relieved when I see Dad has some guy by the scruff of his neck, half-pushing and half-dragging him forward.

Next, the front door is yanked open and a woman starts screeching. She’s only partially dressed and just as soon as she starts to run at them, she stops up short, nearly tripping over her own feet.

“Gunner! Stop it! Damn it, let him go or I’m calling the cops!” she yells and that’s when I get a good look at her face.

It’s Trinity and she’s in nothing but a dirty white wife beater that barely covers her ass. Which I can tell from where I am, is bare.

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