Page 6 of Wrath's Redemption

"Fuck." He sinks into a chair, still staring at Anna's photo. "What's her name?"

"Anna." I wet my lips, nervous. "Anna Rose Martinez"

His head snaps up at that, eyes blazing. "Martinez?"

"My mother's maiden name," I explain quickly, confused by his sudden intensity. "I... I didn't know if you'd want—"

"Change it," he cuts me off, voice hard. "Today. That name... that name dies tonight."

There's something dark and dangerous in his tone. What happened tonight? What am I getting myself – getting Anna – involved in?

But I didn't come here to question him. I came because I had no choice.

"She's sick," I force myself to say. "That's why I'm here. She needs surgery, and I can't... I can't afford it. My insurance won't cover it. I've tried everything, but..."

Wrath's expression shifts, something fierce and protective replacing the shock. "How bad?"

"Heart defect. If she doesn't get the surgery in the next three months..." I can't finish the sentence. Can't voice my greatest fear.

He stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "She'll get the surgery."

"I can't accept money without—"

"She's my daughter." His voice brooks no argument. "My blood. And Iron & Blood takes care of its own."

This is what I wanted – help for Anna. But something tells me I've just changed more than I intended. Because the man standing before me, this dangerous biker with blood on hisclothes and violence in his past, isn't going to be content with just paying for a surgery.

He's going to want everything.

And looking into those eyes – Anna's eyes – I'm not sure I have the strength to deny him. After all, he is her father. How could I say no?

"Where is she now?" he demands, his fingers still gripping the photo.

"With my sister. I work mornings at the kindergarten, she watches Anna while I'm—"

"You work?" His tone makes it sound like an accusation. "While our daughter needs surgery?"

The flash of anger surprises me. "Of course I work. I'm a single mother trying to—"

"Not anymore." He pulls out his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. "You're moving. Today."

"Excuse me?" I stand up, finding my backbone. "You can't just—"

"My daughter isn't living across town while she's sick." His eyes meet mine, challenging. "You need help with the surgery. Fine. But it comes with conditions."

"Conditions?" My voice rises. "She's not a bargaining chip, Wrath. She's a baby who needs—"

"Exactly. She's a baby. My baby. Who needs her father." He moves closer, until I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "You kept her from me for two months, Lucy. Two fucking months I could have been there. Could have protected you both. That ends now."

The intensity rolling off him is almost physical. Part of me wants to step back, to retreat from this force of nature disguised as a man. But I think of Anna, of her tiny body struggling with each breath, of the mountains of medical bills.

"I have a lease," I say weakly. "My job..."

"The club will handle the lease. As for your job..." He pauses, jaw working. "If you want to keep teaching, fine. But Anna stays with me during the day. The clubhouse is secure, and Angel's good with kids."

"The clubhouse?" I glance around the room, thinking of the rough bikers outside. "You want our daughter in a biker clubhouse?"

"Our daughter," he repeats, something soft flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, I do. Because here, she'll have a family. Protection. Everything she needs."

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