Page 44 of Manic

I was just a kid myself when Arik was born, too young and too wild to be a father.

Fern and my father stepped up, adopting him as their own.

Now, here I am, faced with another chance at fatherhood, and this time, I'm determined to get it right.

His voice pulls me back to the present. "How do you feel about all this?" he asks, his tone softening slightly.

I pause, considering my answer. "I'm shocked, yeah. But I'm not mad. Tindra, she's... she's incredible, Dad. Smart as a whip, perceptive as hell. She's got Meghan's eyes and my stubborn chin."

A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. "Sounds like trouble."

I can't help but chuckle. "You have no idea. Last week, she grilled me about the inner workings of a Harley engine for a solid hour. I swear, she absorbed more in that conversation than some of our prospects do in a month."

As I speak, I feel a swell of pride in my chest.

It's a new feeling, this fierce love for a child I've only just met.

But it's there, undeniable and all-consuming.

He studies me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "You want to be involved in her life," he says. It's not a question.

I nod, meeting his gaze. "More than anything."

Runes runs his hand along his face, the rough scrape of his calloused palm against his beard audible in the quiet of the garage. "That's a lot to take in, son," he says, his voice gruff but tinged with concern.

I nod, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. "It is," I agree, leaning back against the worn leather of the couch. "But I think it's going to be well worth it."

My father's eyes narrow slightly, a question forming behind them. "Why didn't she tell you before now?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral.

I take a deep breath, the memory of Meghan's terrified face flashing through my mind. "After she was in a coma, she felt like the club life was dangerous," I explain, keeping it simple. "Then she was attacked by her father here in Tallahassee and she wanted to run. I can't blame her for it. She was terrified."

As I speak, I can feel the familiar anger rising in my chest at the thought of what Meghan went through.

My fists clench, and I have to force myself to relax.

He watches me closely, his eyes softening with understanding. "You love her," he says quietly, more of a statement than a question.

I meet his gaze, unflinching. "I always have," I admit, the words carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.

My father leans back, considering this. "Most men would have been upset with the fact a woman hid their child from them," he observes, his tone neutral.

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the conflicting emotions churning inside me. "It's not like I'm not upset," Iconfess, my voice low. "I am. But I'm not going to let my frustration overrule the happiness I'm feeling right now."

I pause, trying to find the right words to express the tumult of emotions I'm experiencing. "Meghan and I, we've got a lot of shit to sort out. Time to make up for. But it'll happen. We'll figure it out."

As I speak, I can't help but picture Meghan's face, the way her eyes light up when she laughs, the determined set of her jaw when she's focused.

Despite everything, the thought of her still makes my heart race.

He nods slowly, his weathered face softening as he regards me. "You've grown up a lot over these years, son," he says, a hint of pride in his gravelly voice.

I can't help but chuckle, feeling a warmth spread through my chest at his words. "Well, that's usually what happens,"

It's a rare moment of levity between us, and I savor it, knowing how quickly things can change.

As if on cue, my father's expression shifts, his features hardening into the mask of the MC president. "I need you and Emil to go out for a while," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

My brow furrows at the sudden change of topic.

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