Page 7 of Property of Scythe
“She’s gone. We don’t have to like her choices, but we can forgive her and move on, Scythe.”
Yeah. I made my peace with it. I don’t have to like it.
“She’s the one missing out on Mila’s life. That’s the part that fucking sucks, Emma.”
“I know. It’s her loss.”
It is. My daughter is beautiful, intelligent, and amazing. She breathes life into every room she enters. Mila, other than the club, is my entire world. I can’t imagine not wanting to be with her every day and watching her grow up. What kind of mother abandons her child like that?
It’s a sore subject and one I don’t want to continue to discuss. “Well, thanks for all the help. I sent your deposit through for another month. Appreciate you, Emma.”
“I know you do.” She kisses my cheek. “Try to stay out of trouble.”
I snort. “Sure.”
Emma pops into Mila’s room to hug her goodbye, and I lean against the wall outside in the hall, waiting for my little girl to finish her costume. Once Emma is gone, I struggle to forget our conversation. Thinking of Sarah always pisses me off and puts me in a bad fucking mood.
I don’t need this shit. I’ve got to focus on Mila, or she’ll pick up that something is wrong. She’s far too intuitive for a kid.
When my daughter finally emerges, she’s wearing her favorite Elsa dress, black biker boots with silver studs, fake clip-on diamond earrings, her gold tiara with the blue and white rhinestones, and two beaded necklaces. She spins in a circle in front of me, flaring out her dress as she gazes up at me with an expectant and toothy grin.
“Wow,” I say, widening my eyes and dropping to one knee. “Who’s this princess in my house?”
“Daddy.” She giggles. “It’s me. Mila.”
I slap a hand over my heart. “My Mila?”
She erupts into a fit of more giggles, snorting with her humor. “I’m always yours, Daddy.”
Man, I hope she still thinks so when she’s a teenager. I’m fucking terrified I’m going to shoot or maim some stupid motherfucker for hurting her or pissing her off. The whole damn club will have her back. We’ll all go to prison. She’s a biker princess through and through.
“I think I need a hug to be sure,” I tell her.
She launches into my arms, and I wrap my arms around her, squeezing a bit too tightly because she loves it when I do. “Daddy! Too tight!”
I loosen my hold and release her. “I can’t help it. You give the best hugs.”
“No. You do, Daddy.”
She takes my hand and drags me toward the door. “I need a new princess dress for school.”
She’s forgotten something important.
“We don’t go anywhere without your inhaler, princess. Go get it.”
She pouts but nods, rushing into her room. It takes her five minutes to find it, but I know she will. She’s had a few severe attacks in the past and knows her inhaler is medicine that helps her lungs. I don’t have to fight her on it.
When she returns with the inhaler, I tuck it into my pocket. “Where to first?”
“The mall!”
It’s a drive, but there’s no better place to find all she needs. In town, there’s only a consignment shop and a Halloween-themed store for clothing. We’ve kept this town small on purpose, so the shops that are here and thriving are chosen for that purpose. We cater to the tourists. The citizens of Raven’s Crest drive to one of the neighboring towns or toward Columbus if they want more variety.
By the time we’re done, it’s nearly two in the afternoon. I held church early at the clubhouse today because I knew shopping with Mila would take hours. My little munchkin is asleep in her booster seat behind me, her head straight back as she lightly snores. It’s too fucking adorable.
I never take her on my Harley unless we’re riding around on my property. I’ve got twenty acres and a pond, which Mila loves to explore. We drove in my old Ford truck today since I can strap her booster seat in and I park as she sleeps, shutting off the engine. She doesn’t stir.
My little girl can sleep like the dead. Once she’s out, she’s out. She’ll sleep for at least an hour before she wakes up. At night, she’ll rest for ten solid hours. Sometimes, I sneak into her room to be sure she’s still breathing. Mila’s scared the shit out of me more than once when she slept in late.
