Page 68 of Biker Daddy

“Pfft, no, but he’s still in love with me. Reaper?”

“It’s a nickname, sugar tits. He’s an old friend.”

Drew’s jaw clenched but he didn’t dare turn back. His goal was simple. Lead them out of town, away from the camp, and set up a meeting with his father.

Even though Drew had taken the fall for the murders, his father hadn’t forgiven him for leaving the Grinders or refusing his role as vice president. He’d left. Without a word, Drew had disappeared. John Trigger’s words rang out in his head…

“There’s only one way out of the Grinders, kid, and that’s in a body bag.”

Drew wasn’t going to hide anymore. He was done being a prisoner.

Drew sat on the hard wooden chair, a plainclothes youth officer beside him, but he didn’t feel safe. His father sat on his other side looking odd, clean shaven and wearing an expensive suit. He looked nothing like the man Drew knew, but he hadn’t changed in the important ways.

His eyes were still those of a cold-blooded killer, and his body was tense and ready for a fight in the place full of authority. His father’s beard had been long, clasped in a braided leather cord with steel beads hanging, only the day before, but now only a rashy pointed chin was exposed. Drew supposed he should feel good his father had shaved and dressed nicely for his sentencing. Then again, he knew it was more to ensure Drew didn’t change his story and tell someone it was his father that had pulled the trigger.

Drew looked at his father’s chin again, thinking of the beads that once hung there. Each one symbolized a murder he’d committed. His father always said each bead was a man who had crossed him. Now Drew had witnessed the truth. His father had added two more beads after that night in the alley. Although, when someone had truly crossed him, his father never went after them personally—he went after their wives, girlfriends, sons, and daughters. Hell, even mothers or grandmothers sometimes.

“Go after the ones they love, son. That’s what really hurts.”

When the youth officer rose to speak to another guard, Drew’s father turned to look at him. His mouth, normally hidden behind his facial hair, was thin and pressed into a cruel curve. His father wasn’t pleased with him. And suddenly, Drew was happy he had no family besides the Skull Grinders—no friends either—no one for his father to take from him. And Drew had better keep it that way for the rest of his life.

“Boy, I’ll find every person you even think about caring for and julienne them like fucking carrots if you fuck this up!” Spittle sat on his father’s chin and Drew blinked, clenching his jaw to show no fear. But the fear was so strong he felt dizzy.

That fear was gone and nothing was more important to him than a life with Addi. He’d protect what was his… even if it meant taking down the club brick by fleshy brick.

Drew headed out of town. He stopped at a joint a couple of hours away from the camp and had a coffee while he waited. It was only a matter of time.

He took the last guzzle of his coffee and pulled out his cell as it buzzed in his pocket. His jaw tightened.

“Yeah?” Drew cracked the tension from his neck.

“Reaper, it’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough, Trigger.”

“C’mon now, son. Is that any way to talk to your father?”

“Father or president? You were always more one than the other.”

“Right down to business then.” Trigger growled an order at someone. “Here’s the thing, kid.” There was a long pause. “Mauler’s got your girl. He’s bringing her home to me. I’m thinking about passing her around to the boys when she gets here. The club whores could use a day off.”

Drew’s insides went cold. His whole body froze and the hushing in his ears made it hard for him to hear the rest of his father’s words, but he breathed through it.

“I’ve got her kid, too. He yours? Doesn’t matter.” Trigger chuckled. Her kid? Drew’s head dropped. Fucking Layla. Her games had gotten her and Brent into real trouble this time. He rubbed a hand across his forehead. Fuck!

At least Addi was safe.

“Here’s your choice. You can save one of them. You get to watch the other die. That’s your punishment.” His father’s laugh was wheezy but still cruel and more familiar than Drew cared to admit. It had been in his nightmares since he’d been born.

“Once it’s done, you stay here at the clubhouse and work your way back into our good fucking graces. You’ll be fully patched and back with the Skulls soon enough and if not, the other dies, too. I got a new guy and he’ll escort the woman or the kid back to town and stay until I know you’re committed to us again.”

Drew swore and smashed his fist off the outdoor picnic table he sat on. It throbbed but nothing like the pain he felt inside. His shitty life was like herpes, always coming back and ready to infect everyone he loved.

“Who the hell’s this new guy?” Drew asked to keep his father on the line longer.

“Someone loyal, unlike you, who fucking ditched your family.”

“You use the word family loosely, Father. And I went to jail for your family.”

---