Page 32 of Thornhill Road

At the sound of the door, she turned to see who it was. As soon as it registered, she was on her feet, bouncing up and down with her arms spread wide.

“Daddy!”

Instantly, his anger was assuaged.

“Hey, baby,” he said with a smile.

He ate up the distance between them, and she leapt at him as soon as he was close. He caught her, like she knew he would, and she wrapped her arms around his neck even as she wiggled in excitement.

“Let’s grab your shoes and get out of here. You hungry?”

As he carried her to her bedroom she answered, “Yeah. Can we have pancakes?”

“How ‘bout eggs?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed as they worked together to get her shoes on. “How ‘bout pancakesandeggs? And bacon!”

“Now you’re talkin’.”

On their way out, he took her by the hand and let her walk. When they made it to the living room, Trix looked ready to pounce. Mustang gave her a single glare of warning and she snapped her lips shut.

“Tell mommy bye.”

Without dropping his hand, MK waved. “Bye, mommy.”

“Bye, sweet pea.”

Mustang didn’t bother closing the front door after they’d passed through it. The apartment needed a good airing out. He knew the chances of that happening were low, especially with MK gone.

He was tired of Trix and her mess. He wasn’t a fool. He was well aware she could access harder, more lethal drugs. Hell, the club used to be in the business of helping to smuggle that shit across the border. Weed was child’s play—except for when it came tohischild.

He didn’t give a shit what Trix did when MK wasn’t around; but the last thing he wanted was for his little girl to grow up in a house like he did, with a parent constantly inebriated.

When they reached his truck, he lifted her up into the car seat he kept in the back on the passenger side. After she was buckled in, he didn’t move to get behind the wheel. He got her attention so they could have a chat.

“Smells like grass in there, doesn’t it?”

She shrugged. “It always smells like that when mommy’s friend comes over. She makes me stay in her room. But I can watch cartoons!”

Mustang tamped down his anger before he next spoke.

“I need you to listen to me, princess. If it ever smells like that, you call me. You get the phone in the kitchen, you take it to your room, and you call me,” he instructed, speaking of the landline he’d been paying for since MK’s third birthday. He wanted access to his girl, and he didn’t trust Trix. “You ever get scared, and you want daddy to come get you, you call me. You understand?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“What’s my phone number?”

She rattled off the digits he’d drilled into her head, and he nodded.

“And what do you do when it smells like grass?”

“Get the phone to my room and call you.”

“That’s right.”

He pressed a kiss into her hair then finally moved to close her in and take his seat behind the wheel.

He hadn’t forgotten about Tess. She was still there in the back of his mind. Now that he had MK, that’s where she’d have to stay—until Wednesday afternoon, when he mounted his hog.

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