Page 62 of Lush Curves

“OK.”

“So.” He winked at her and she giggled a bit, tried to wink back but blinked both eyes instead. “Let’s go see where your Mom is, alright?”

“She left a note,” Cindy said, her voice muffled against his throat as he held her close. “On the table.”

“Did she?” Sam asked calmly, though calm was hands-down thelastfucking thing that he felt in this moment. “Did she say anything before she left?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Alright, Cindy… don’t be upset. Show me where the note is?”

“There.”

Cindy pointed at the kitchen table, and he carefully set her down on the floor. That was when he saw that she was still wearing her little pink pajamas and had cookie crumbs all down her front. How long had she been out here on her own? Jesus Christ, if Kathleen had just walked out and left Cindy alone to choke, or fall, or turn on a stove element, or pull a glass vase down her head, just so she could go shopping with her windfall of cash from him or some other damn fool thing, Sam was going to fuckingkillher.

He picked up the note, skimmed it, felt his jaw tighten. He glanced at the thick stack of documents on the table, flicked through them, read a few headings, narrowed his eyes in anger. He then saw Cindy watching him, looking worried. He gave her a big smile and set the papers back on the table.

“You want some juice, sweet pea?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Apple?”

“Mmm-hmmm.” She wandered over to her doll house, put her doll to bed gently. “Please.”

Sam poured the juice, put the plastic cup on a coaster on the coffee table. Cindy was fully absorbed with tucking her baby doll in now, singing to herself and chattering, so he went back to the kitchen, retrieved the note and documents with mixed feelings of rage and resignation.

He already knew what they said.

**

Scars was checking the alcohol delivery in Satan’s Bar, the bar owned and run by the Road Devils motorcycle club, when the bartender appeared in the door of the backroom, looking puzzled.

“Hey, Veep?”

Scars turned. “Yeah, Cole?”

“Your brother’s here.”

Scars damn near dropped the crate of vodka that he was holding.”What?”

“Yeah. He’s asking for Jinx. And…”

“What?”

“He’s got a kid with him. A little girl.”

Scars shot out of the storeroom, almost knocking Cole over as he barreled past. Jesusfuck– Sam never set foot anywherenearRoad Devils business, and he sure asshitwould never bring Cindy into the same damn zip code as Satan’s. Not without damn good reason.

Or bad reason.

“Sam!” Scars skidded to a halt, saw his adorable little niece on a bar stool, swinging her legs and playing with a straw. “You OK?”

Sam nodded, clearly totally lying, holding onto Cindy as she tottered on the stool. “Is Jinx around?”

Cindy looked up, saw Scars, and she smiled. “Hi Uncle Vic!”

“Hi, babyface.” Scars rumpled her hair and she squealed. “Lookin’ cute as always.”

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