Page 15 of Viper
I growl, “What the fuck do you want from me?”
“For you to go and make it right with my daughter! You fucking love her, Viper, you're drowning without her, so why in the hell won’t you fight for her?” he snaps back as the door opens, gaining my attention, and I see Blade and Fury standing by it, watching, most likely to be sure I don’t kill their temporary mechanic.
He’s already quit because of me, meaning everyone in the club is pissed and I guess they don’t want him dead as well. Though he's also pissed at them for the shit they've said about his daughter.
“I don’t need to fight for her, she’s doing pretty fine without me,” I mutter, knowing there’s truth to my words.
She has her partner.
Her laughing at him the other day comes to mind, and I swallow the jealousy.
Randy scoffs, “No, she fucking isn’t. At the moment, son, she’s using her anger as a defense. She’s using it to cloud over the heartbreak she’s feeling, and as soon as that anger disappears, she’ll fucking fall. You are the love of her fucking life, and you need to realize that before it’s too late.” I shake my head and switch my bike on, the engine purring before he asks, “Does she know that you don’t touch clubwhores? Never have?”
My jaw ticks and I glare at him before snapping, “No, and she isn’t going to know either.”
He chuckles darkly, “So you’re just going to allow her to believe that you really fucked her mother, then, huh?”
I flinch unintentionally. I only said it out of anger when she asked if I fucked Cherri. I just realized that she may have been using me, but as soon as she said she was her mother, I instantly regretted lying to her about it. I’m not stupid, I know my admitting to fucking the bitch when I haven’t most likely tore us apart instantly in that moment. Not the fact that I kept that I’ma brother from her, or she kept the fact that she was friends with Ivy from me.
Maybe that’s why I held onto claiming her to be a patch chaser, to hide the guilt I felt when I saw the absolute pain in her beautiful, dark green eyes.
Growing up, we were always told Cherri’s daughter would be exactly like her, a patch chaser. A label already slapped across her forehead like a scarlet letter without anyone even meeting her and I believed it. Now, I’m so fucking torn because of the girl I got to know. I fell in love with her and now I don’t know what to believe.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, refusing to answer his question, knowing Lake will lose it if she knew the truth and not wanting to face that right now.
Fuck, my head is all over the place.
I back up from my spot as Randy snaps, “Answer the fucking question, Viper,” but I ignore him and drive out of the parking lot, towards the gate the prospect opens just in time knowing Blade will get Medic, formally known as Cain to follow so I don’t miss the formation in two hours before we leave.
Maybe I should go nomad, become a brother that goes from one MC to another for a while...
Chapter 5
Lake
“Dispatch, we have a 911 caller, a hit and run on Brooks Street. A five-year-old girl was knocked down and is now unconscious,” Wendy says through our receiver, and I press my device on my top and reply, “This is 8921, enroute, ETA two minutes.”
Callum puts the sirens on before pressing his foot down, swerving around cars we were driving behind as the sirens blare above to give us a clear pathway, and I swallow hard.
Kids are a difficult one for me. All I have to do is picture Tate, and my heart sinks every time. Right now, even though I know she’s with her Grammie at her therapy appointment, I have the urge to message Skylar to make sure it isn’t her.
Poor Tate cannot be near a brother without screaming after being taken by a traitor prospect. I looked into people who canhelp kids that have dealt with trauma, and they agreed to meet her.
A car beeps and Callum curses as I look ahead at the scene before me, several people surrounding the small body on the road.
Damn, what kind of person would hit a kid and then flee the scene?
Callum quickly stops at the scene, and I climb out, grabbing my bag before rushing over to the crowd the police are trying to push back.
“Make room please,” I shout when they don’t see me, too busy looking at the carnage and the crowd separates before my eyes land on a little blonde haired girl lying on the concrete and my heart sinks seeing the blood coming from her head. Near the body a woman who looks like her sobs from beside her, holding a tissue to the wound.
Callum kneels next to the girl, prompting the mother to move, and I kneel on her other side, grabbing my monitor to check her oxygen and pulse rate. I quickly attach it to her finger and press a few buttons as I take in her injuries.
Crap, her shoulder is definitely dislocated by the angle it’s currently in.
“What’s her name?” Callum asks while I continue to assess the girl's very severe injuries.
She has a broken arm, cuts and grazes all over her right side. That’s the side that took the most impact, and a major wound to the back of her head.
