“You’re a manipulative bitch.” Despite the words he uses, his tone is soft. There’s no heat behind the statement. Another sign that he’s coming close to giving in. “You gonna withhold pussy until I give in?”
“No,” I say and take a deep breath. “But I’ll make you a deal. You take me to New York and when we get home, I’ll give you another baby.”
“Fuck,” he says quietly. His eyes search mine, like he’s making sure I’m not lying to him. Family means everything to this man. Even when he was fucked up, he loved what we had and wanted our son. He was just too sick to be good for himself, let alone us.
“I love you, baby. I just want the father of my children safe and sound and at home with me.”
There’s a long, frustrated pause before he concedes. I can see it on his face when he says, “Christ, now Ruby’s going to want to come. You do realize you just fucked me with the boys, right?”
CHAPTER 20
February 2016
2 months to Mancuso’s downfall
“This isn’t necessary,” Zander whines from beside me as he watches the baker work her magic on the cake. Amber thinks I’m crazy, but I swear the kid’s grown in the last three months. I’ve measured him so many times that any time he sees a measuring tape now, he turns heel and rushes the other way. He’s fourteen, so he won’t say it, but I know he likes the attention. I remember being fourteen and wanting nothing more than to have a dad. I used to think even a shit dad would be better than no dad. Sure, this shit right here embarrasses him to no end, but deep down the little fuck loves it.
“Is this right?” The baker, a young girl around nineteen or so, turns the cake toward us. She gulps nervously as we stare down at her work. Once again, she’s done a good job. The cake she’s just finished was a last minute addition to our order. My boy’s birthday was back in July, but I wasn’t there. Not for his fourteenth or his thirteenth. Not for any of those fucking milestones. Either I had a straw up my nose, my dick in some strange pussy, or I was already passed out to the point of oblivion. One of the very things I remembered through all that shit I put my body through was his birthday. I think I remembered him being mine too, but I couldn’t bear the thought of facing it. Not if she was going to lie to me again and not if I was wrong. Even at my darkest point, the idea that maybe she was wrong or lying and he was mine after all, kept me alive. Only fucking thing, if I’m being honest.
I nod my head and tell her it’s cool— because it is. Piper’s cake has some kind of pink pig character on it. Amber ordered that shit. If it were up to me, her birthday cake would look a lot like Zander’s— white and black with red icing piped atop the chocolate cake and vanilla frosting. The baker is talented as fuck. I asked her if she could draw a Harley on the damn thing and she fucking did. I even got her to draw Forsaken’s Nordic warrior in the corner with HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Z written at the top of the Harley. Zander mutters a few words of indifference and hops from foot to foot, but I can see the excitement in his eyes. Cheyenne, Grady’s daughter, comes home from culinary school today. She’s going to be damn pissed when she sees I had somebody else bake for us— especially when she sees the Forsaken symbol on it— but the girl doesn’t have time to be whipping up shit for us. Plus, Grady still hasn’t told her that Holly’s pregnant and they need time to connect and shit. I don’t know that he will drop that bomb right now since Holly’s been spotting, but he fucking should. Chey’s a tough girl— has to be to be in love with Jeremy— she can handle it.
“Great, I’ll just pack both cakes up and you’re good to go.” She shoots Z a sly smile that leaves a blush on her cheeks. I spy my kid’s reaction to it. He smirks at her like he’s the grown ass man that he isn’t and leans in, saying as smooth as fuck, “Thanks, babe.”
She blinks at him, blushes again, and rushes off to get the cakes ready to go. I stare at my son with a mixture of pride and shock in my heart.
Memories of being only a few years older than him fly through my brain. I was eighteen the day I met his mom, also the first time I kissed her, and the day I walked up to Thumper-Fucking-Wallace and told him I wanted to prospect for his club and I wanted to make his daughter my girl. Looking back, I’m surprised Thumper didn’t murder my ass on the spot. I’m even more surprised that Amber’s mom didn’t beat my ass for it. I guess they figured any kid that ballsy and stupid was worth taking a chance on. It wasn’t long after we met that I started prospecting. She gave me her virginity the day I started earning my top rocker. I was the thing every parent of a teenage daughter fears.
Fuck.