Page 88 of Golden Atonement

Yeah, I never claimed to be Suzie Homemaker. Hell, I did good most days to put on a clean shirt, but the other stuff like cooking, cleaning, and laundry, I could admit I had no clue.

Instead of yelling, my wife walked right over to me and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers as she stared blankly at me.

Reaching for my wallet, I didn’t think as I handed over my black Amex card, then asked, “How much is this gonna cost me?”

My wife smiled up at me and sweetly said, “Oh, I’m not going to be spending your money. Your teenage daughter is when she learns what you’ve done. She’s gonna have so much fun at the mall when you take her shopping.”

“NO!” Emma screamed bloody murder as she ran to the washing machine, opening the lid. Her wails damn near piercing my ears while her cries of anguish turned to molten lava and she furiously glared at me.

“You washed my clothes!”

Blinking, I backed up as I looked at Remi. “What the hell do you mean when I take her shopping?”

Ignoring me, Remi laughed as she walked over and handed Emma my black Amex card before heading up stairs saying nothing more. Looking around at my brothers and sister, I asked, “What did she mean by that?”

My daughter marched over, grabbed my hand and damn near dragged me out of the house. “Let’s go. I’ve got some shopping to do!”

Two hours later, I sat at the food court in Purgatory Mall, and Emma still hadn’t said two fucking words to me while she thumbed through her phone, sipping a cold coffee. I’d already called the club and told Massacre I needed a few brothers to help with the bags. Fucker only sent the prospect, Specs, who stumbled all over himself, eager to help my daughter.

“Emma, how much longer are we going to be here?”

“I’m not done.”

“What more do you need?”

“Bras, panties—”

Holding up my hand, I stopped her there. “Got it. Do you really need me here for that? Wouldn’t you rather have your mom?”

“She’s not my mom.” Emma huffed as she snapped a picture of herself before typing away on her phone.

Snagging her phone out of her hands, I growled. “What the fuck did you just say?”

My daughter crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “I said she’s not my fucking mom.”

“Little girl,” I seethed, barely hanging on to my temper. “My woman has given you everything you ever wanted and more. She’s been your champion, your friend, the one person you could count on to be there when I wasn’t around, and you have the fucking nerve to say that shit to me.”

“She should have stayed gone. We were doing fine without her. Because of her, I had to leave my friends and move aroundall the fucking time. She doesn’t care about us, Dad. She only cares about herself.”

Balling my fist, I took a deep breath.

“Listen very carefully, Emma, because I’m only going to say this shit once. I fucking love you. There ain’t shit I won’t do for you, but if I ever hear you spew that fucking shit again, you won’t like what I do next. And for your fucking information, none of the shit over the last year or so was your mother’s fault. It was all mine. I was the one who fucked up. Not her. She was only trying to protect you and your brother. I get you’re fucking mad, and maybe you have the right to be, but not at her. Never her. I put your mother in an impossible situation, and she did the only thing she knew to do. That’s on me. Not her. You want to be pissed at someone, blame someone, then fucking blame me, because if I ever hear you say that shit to my fucking wife, then I will have your spoiled ass enrolled in the best fucking boarding school abroad before you can fucking blink. Fucking get me?”

Emma gulped and nodded.

“Good. Fucking shopping trip is over. You can make do with what you fucking have. Let’s go.”

Not waiting to see if she followed, I marched my ass out of the fucking mall and prayed I never had to step into this place again.

Chapter Five

Remi

I heard the front door slam not even a few hours later. Looking at the clock, I frowned when I heard Emma stomping up the stairs before she slammed her bedroom door shut. Getting up, I walked over to the window and saw Max storming toward the clubhouse, furious.

Frowning, I looked over my shoulder when I heard Emma scream before glass shattered. Rushing to her room, I threw open her bedroom door to find her standing in front of the full-length mirror I bought her before she came to live with us. I decorated everything in this room, right down to the frilly pink comforter on her bed. I made sure that she had everything she could want or need.

Instead of a grateful and happy girl standing before me, now stood one furious teenager.

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