Page 65 of Blue

His thumb lingered over her face. The blue and green tendrils fell over her shoulders as she smiled up at him. The sexy shot he’d taken of her in his bed at the clubhouse during better days taunted him. He could call her. He should check in on her too.

If anyone needed it, it was Blue. While he knew she’d gotten out of jail, he’d been the reason she’d been there to begin with. The thought soured his stomach, and bile rose in his throat. He did that to her.

Turning his head away, he let his phone drop back into the pocket of his jeans.

No. There’d be nothing he could say to her to make it better. If he were a smart man, he’d delete her number from his phone and remove the temptation to protect her, but for now, the memory of her smile was one of the few joys he had left. When it was all said and done, he would. For now, he had to focus on Starla and River.

The impending vote only made his need to hug his kids that much more urgent. Eyes burned the back of his neck as he stomped out of the clubhouse without so much as a word to anyone. He didn’t have time for their questions. He needed his kids.

He might never get a chance to hold Blue, but he could at least hug his kids. He had his moment with Blue. As fucked up as it turned out, he got to hold her. He’d make his peace with that.

Once he got on his bike, he checked the time. Starla and River had about an hour of school left. Perfect. He could shower and not smell like a rat’s taint when he saw them. Maybe he should hit up the grocery store and make them a proper dinner tonight.

As he revved his bike to life, he remembered there was a handoff to Angela scheduled that night. Pulling out of the club’s compound, he shook his head.

Tough fucking shit, bitch. She’d get those kids when he was ready to give them to her.

The fact he might get stuck behind bars was half her fault. If she hadn’t gotten her twat wrapped around the cop, he might not have been so invested in Mooky. If she’d just signed the divorce papers, he’d still have Blue in his life.

Nah, she’d have to wait.

He needed his kids. Hehadto be a good father tonight. One more wonderful memory before he went away. They’d been through so much the past couple of days. All he wanted was one drama-free night with them before everything went to shit.

Pork chops, Shake ‘N’ Bake, green beans, and applesauce, the perfect dinner. Wait. Mooky hadn’t grabbed a starch. Doubling back, he found some instant potato au gratin in the box. There. Now he had a nutritious meal for his kids. All the food groups were there, right?

Oh hell, he wasn’t the perfect parent. What was the use in pretending he was now? This was better than hot dogs and mac and cheese. He was a work-in-progress parent.

Standing at the self-checkout, after he’d scanned the jar of applesauce, his mind wandered, imagining what it would be like if Blue were to have dinner with his kids.

The kitchen smelled of a home-cooked meal. Though, Mooky wasn’t quite sure who’d made the massive turkey dinner with all the fixings laid out on the round table. Starla, beside Blue, chatted with her about makeup. The two gestured around before Blue showed her something on her phone. River slouched in a chair beside his sister playing his handheld video game and shouted about missing something.

It felt like a modern-day Norman Rockwell moment to Mooky.

This was his dream. Unfortunately, it was out of his reach. Considering the fact he was about to murder a cop, rather violently, he doubted he’d ever bring his family together the way he wanted.

But tonight he’d cook his kids a nutritious dinner. He’d pretend everything was perfect for their sake. One night, or as many as he had, of normal before he did what he had to do to protect them. If only Clark would wait to call church until after dinner.

Blue

Harsh throbbing shot from Blue’s eye socket throughout her skull. She groaned as she tried to blink her surroundings into focus. Pain ripped through her wrists when she tried to use her hands.

Restraints.

Specifically, thick, plastic restraints.

Wriggling on the stained comforter covering the concrete floor, Blue tried to right herself into a sitting position. Something cut into her ankles with the movement.

Zip ties.

Someone had bound her wrists and ankles with zip ties.

But why?

Fear took hold of her throat as she laid there on her side.

She couldn’t have that. She needed to get out of there, wherever there was.

“Hello?” she called out with her heart thundering in her ears.

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