Page 4 of Grease's Guide

“I didn't even put my face on today,” I complain, looking at the mirror beside my door and trying not to freak out that I don't have a lick of makeup on. These dark circles aren't doing Mama a lick of good. Quickly opening up my clutch purse on the hallway table, I slick on some red lipstick, smacking my lips together, giving a little pinch to my cheeks and one more glance.

“Well, it ain't perfect, but it's better than what I was working with. You ain't too bad for a woman closing in on forty babygirl.” I blow myself a kiss before turning back to the door. Oh, almost forgot. Pushing up my boobs and pulling down my shirt to let the girls out a bit just as another knock comes from the door.

“Well, hold your horses, hunny. I’m coming as fast as I can,” I yell as I fluff up my blonde curls one last time before swinging the door open. I smile big at the two men on the other side. One is about a foot taller than me in my heels. I would put him at about six-two, with more of a runner's body but still packing some major muscle work. The other looks like a Mac truck and has to be at least six-five. He has huge, wide shoulders and a scowl.

That's alright, doll, I like a challenge.

“Now, what did I do in this life for God to bless me with two huge hunka hunka burning loves like you at my doorstep? It’s not my birthday, but I won't tell anyone if you guys want to treat a girl to a little striptease.” I do a little shimmy at the front door and…. Crickets. Well, this is no fun.

“Ma’am, would it be okay if we stepped inside for a minute?” the smaller of the two asks, making me raise my brow. There's a slight accent. You wouldn't even know it was there without looking for it. After what my baby girl went through, though, I’m always looking for it.

“Well, of course, pumpkin. Wanting some privacy?” I smile saucily at them, but turn and lead them to the kitchen. I pull out a chair for each of them.

“Please sit, sit.” I wave to the chairs. “I was just finishin’ up breakfast. You two can join this lonely lady for a bite, can't you?” I ask, moving the cast iron pan with my famous buttermilk biscuits closer to the edge of the counter. I look behind me subtly and notice gun holsters under their suit jackets.

“So, you live here alone, yes? No children?” Mac truck asks, not so subtly. Are these guys amateurs or somthin’? I might be a tiny little ol’ country girl, but one thing we learned young: Women have to be ready to protect themselves at all times, just in case.

“Aww.. you telling me I don't look old enough to have children?” I ask, placing my biscuits onto a plate and covering them with a napkin.

“Of course not. We just thought there used to be a woman that lived here. Dark hair. Maybe twenty-three?” swimmer says. Are these guys serious? No wonder they need a gun for one little ol’ lady like me.

“In fact, I do have a daughter,” I say, turning swiftly and banging the cast iron on the top of Mac truck’s head before quickly swinging it at swimmers as he turns, eyes wide, and reaches for his gun. He doesn't make it, though. I catch him in the side of thehead, and they both go down. One is on the floor, and one is face down on the table.

“Sorry, boys. I would have loved to chat you up, but no one comes into my house and threatens my baby,” I say, turning and picking up the plate with my biscuits. Turning and stepping over Swimmer, still lying on the floor, I make it to the kitchen door before turning with a big smile.

“Lock up before you leave… Tootles.”

Time to go get my baby girl. Mama ain't letting anyone get to her cub.

Chapter Four

Becky

“Ahhh, but Miss. Becky, We’re not ready to leave yet! We just got here,” Jett pleads, sticking out her lower lip and pouting. That face is one that could bring you to your knees. The problem is, I’ve been with these guys long enough to know behind those big, blue, innocent eyes is a stealthy, mischievous side. The girl really is as sweet as she can be, just like her mama, Izzy. The problems lie with her daddy's side. Like Hitter, that quiet, calculating thinking is always going on behind the scenes.

It's one of the main reasons I have to watch out for her and Bronx, Piper and Swift's son, more than the other kids. You would think Rome would be my biggest worry, but that boy wouldn't do anything to put his sister or Paisley in harm's way. He’s usually the one watching over them with eagle eyes. That boy might not be Loki’s biological son, but one glance at his crossed arms, smirk, and narrow eyes constantly keeping watch of his surroundings, and you know who that child’s dad is.

“Bigger eyes, add some tears,” Bronx says, trying and failing to cover his words with a sarcastic cough from behind her.

“Not this time, guys. We need to get back. Tonight's family night at the club. Vice and Drift are coming back into town,” I tell them excitedly. They don't take the bait. While they can somewhatremember the nomads of the club, Vice and Drift apparently don't make it back home as much as they used to. Something about bad memories of the place and losing someone close to them before I arrived. I’ve never been brave enough to ask for the entire story.

The kids complain a bit more but still climb into the backseat. I give the prospect chaperoning our outing today a nod, and he puts the SUV in drive and heads for the compound. It used to make me crazy having a babysitter around all the time. I think it was the thought of the ladies not trusting me with their kids, which I could understand if I were a stranger, but after a while, I was worried it was me. Though what reason had I given them to trust me? I was lying. I was in trouble, and being around them potentially brought that danger to their doorstep. I warred with those feelings. Hell, I still do, but I also know in my heart I will protect all these babies with my life.

I don't know if Piper could sense it, but she sat me down one day and told me the real reason. The club and its members have a lot of enemies. Those enemies wouldn't hesitate to kidnap or hurt the kids or women. Actually, it's happened quite a bit. After that conversation and then actually witnessing some of the danger that comes with the club, let's just say it no longer bothers me to have someone around all the time.

The kids fall asleep not too far into the drive, and I don’t even realize I zone out until the prospect mutters from beside me.

“What the hell is going on now?”

I look up as we pull into the driveway to the compound, and an unfamiliar car is parked at the gate. He pulls up next to the vehicle and puts it in park. He turns to me.

“Stay in the vehicle,” he demands before opening the door and getting out. I can hear yelling but cannot tell what they are saying. I hear a woman's voice, though, so I don't think there's any danger. I’ve never been great at following orders, especially when they come from a man. So I take one more look at the kids before opening my door and getting out.

I round the vehicle, and my eyes, as usual, automatically find the piercing blue eyes that haunt my dreams. I glare, just because, then turn my head toward the commotion.

I can feel my eyes get huge at the person standing in front of the gate.

“I told you not to get out of the car. Get back in with the kids. I’ll remove the lady from the gate. You drive on through.” I place my hand on his arm, stopping him.

---