Page 6 of Hyde

“I’ve had it with them!” The anger in Riley’s voice is as tangible as the pain on Leslee’s face. Riley and their son, Xander, have entered in Leslee’s wake. “They suspended Leslee and I got so pissed I yanked Xander out of his school, also.”

Leslee is wrapped in Gunner’s arms, but her tear-filled amber eyes are locked onto my darker eyes, making me realize I’ve risen and fisted my own hands. I’m ready to go to battle at Gunner’s say-so.

“Can we back up a little?” Jasper calmly asks. “What happened, Le-Lee?” If it weren’t for her ragged breath, I’d smile at the nickname that one of his kids bestowed on her.

“Dustin Tapher reached around me and grabbed my boob in pre-cal, so I swung my textbook at him and broke his nose. We have to sit alphabetically in that class so we were surrounded by all of his asshat friends, and no one would admit that I was defending myself.” Leslee’s voice is strained, the red streaks around her neck highlight how pale her face is as she tells us what happened.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” Gunner growls and Xander’s mouth slants into a smile that gives even me the chills. It’s hard to remember he’s ten, considering he’s taller than his mom and sister.

“Let me do it,” I volunteer, shrugging when Gunner and Jasper turn to look at me. “A parting gift.”

“How old is the kid?” Russian asks, thinking about what we can get away with considering he’s got to be a minor if he’s in Leslee’s class.

“Old enough not to touch our daughter.” Riley’s answer mirrors what I’m thinking, and I’m pleased she’s out for blood. I fuckinglove how this family switches from the Cleavers to the Mansons in a snap.

“He’s a junior,” Leslee responds, and it takes me a second to remember that she tested out of the lower-level math classes. “Wait… Parting gift?”

Leslee looks at me, shaking her head as tears start to flow over her eyelids again. Whatever she sees in my face has her pulling away from her dad and scrambling over the coffee table to me. “You’re not going, Joey! No.”

Throwing her arms around my waist, I grimace and put my hands on her shoulders. “Nothing’s decided yet,” I say, trying to calm her down as I look from Jasper to Russian, and finally, Gunner.

He’s the only one not looking at me and I’m grateful that the thunderous expression on his face is meant for a high school boy and not me. Gunner stays frozen, staring at his daughter’s back with his brows knitted together, until he finally lifts his gaze and gives me a nod.

I grin before looking to Jasper for approval and get a nod from him, also.

They’re not just giving me permission to get out and see the world a bit; no, I just got carte blanche to teach this Dustin fuckwad a lesson.

In the next couple of days, I start putting the word out with other Northern Grizzlies charters and motorcycle clubs we’re friendly with. A handful of them come back with requests that I review what systems they have in place, with the promise of a job if I find holes in their set-ups.

With the constant cycle of new couples and babies being born, I’m able to quickly rent out my small two-bedroom house. That takes care of one order of business before I leave.

The other is Dustin Tapher. I grin to myself, going over my plan for him in my head again. He’s going to think twice before he ever touches another girl.

Flint and Bree offer me the use of their smallest bedroom to store what few things I have that I want to keep. And as my time in Rowansville winds down, dinners with them become brutal. Bree keeps finding a reason to go out to the kitchen to wipe her tears away, not wanting me to see her cry.

“Molly, you gotta come to dinner tomorrow night!” I plead with her, getting my hand slapped when I unconsciously try to stick a finger in the batter she’s working on. “Ma’s calling itThe Last Supper, for crying out loud.”

“I swear, you’re as bad as my kids,” she huffs, unable to keep the grin off her face.

“Come on, sis.” I throw that endearment in for good measure, as I try to keep her focused on my request.

Granted I was adopted into the family, but I’ve known Bree and her father longer than she has. That, and from the moment she found out that Flint is her biological father, she did assume the role of sister to me. “Ma practically bursts out crying every time she looks at me. If you, Royce, and your monsters are there, she’ll be distracted.”

“Overlooking the fact that you call your niblings, monsters, Bree does want time with you before you hit the road,” she says as she fills a cake mold, then slides the bowl with some leftover batter down the counter to me.

“Is that a cock?” I ask, tilting my head to get a better look at the mold as I start to swipe my finger through the delicious mixture.

“I know you’ve seen the tits version of this at the clubhouse, why are you surprised I also make dick cakes?” Molly counters, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

“That’s a perfectly valid argument,” I sagely nod my head, imitating Flint. “You don’t happen to make, y’know, um, kitty cakes, do you?”

She lets out a quick laugh before growing thoughtful. “Actually, I bet Riley could make a mold with her 3D printer and including the legs, it would serve more people than the woman’s chest does.”

“I was kidding,” I insist, but the look in her eye doesn’t go away. “Okay, just don’t make it red velvet.”

“You’re disgusting,” she groans, snapping her dish towel at me. “You let Bree know and I’ll round up mymonstersfor dinner tomorrow.”

“You’re the best! Love you. Gotta be somewhere,” I respond. Putting the bowl in the sink, I fill it with water before giving her a kiss on the cheek and head for the back door. “Oh, will you make your brownies for us?”

---