Tenille slid out of her husband’s embrace. “Don’t be a prick, Aiden.”
I probably was being a prick, but I gave no shits. I’d watched Craig gamble away their cash for years. I refused to watch any longer. And Tenille needed to see Gibson for the person he truly was. If she thought he’d advance Craig that kind of money out of the goodness of his fucking heart, she lived in fantasyland. And I fucking needed her to understand that fairy tales didn’t exist when Gibson was involved. Maybe then she’d realise the truth of why I left her all those years ago.
I jerked my chin at Craig. “I know what kind of work you used to have to do for Gibson to earn good money. I’m wondering if it’s the same these days.”
Craig swallowed hard, and I knew I was right. Gibson had him getting his hands really fucking filthy for that cash.
“Mum, is dinner nearly ready? I’ve got a stack of homework to do tonight, and I want to get started.”
I spun around to find my daughter watching me warily. The sounds of Tenille and Craig cursing behind me faded away until all that surrounded me and Charlie was silence while we took each other in.
I committed her face to memory—every perfect curve of it—while I tried to ignore the fear rushing at me. Fuck. I needed to get this shit under control. Fast.
Her forehead wrinkled slightly. “You’re the guy from last night. On the front lawn.”
I nodded, unable to form an answer. I wanted to wrap her in my arms and take the fourteen years of hugs I’d missed out on in one go. Wanted to take her pinky in mine like I did when she was a baby. Hell, I wanted to tell her exactly who I was, but I reined in my own desires and upheld my end of the bargain I’d just made. Finally, I managed to grind out, “Yeah.”
Tenille pushed past me and took hold of Charlotte, guiding her out of the kitchen as she murmured something I couldn’t make out.
As I stood staring after them, Craig said, “You need to go now. Come back tomorrow morning at nine, and we’ll talk more.” He shoved my back as he added, “And if you ever fucking say a word to Tenille about the work I do for Gibson, I’ll make sure you never have anything to do with Charlie.”
Every ounce of control I’d worked hard to maintain while in his presence snapped. I turned to him, curled my hand around his neck and rammed him against the pantry door. A storm raged in me as I squeezed his neck. This man had everything that should have been mine. It wasn’t his fault, though, and I needed to remember that. It was my fucking fault. But it didn’t give him the right to threaten me. No one fucking threatened me and got away with it. The only reason he was still standing was because my daughter was somewhere in this house.
“Don’t ever threaten me again,” I snarled. “I’m playing this the way Tenille wants to. For now. But don’t fucking mistake my acceptance for weakness. I am not a weak fucking man, Craig, and I won’t hesitate to show you exactly who I am if I need to. As for Gibson, we both know the level of shit you’re in with him. I just hope you have a fucking clue how to get yourself out of it, because trust me when I tell you, he is not a man to stay involved with.” I knew I’d hit my mark by the way his face whitened and his breathing slowed.
As I exited their home, I wondered just how deep Craig was in with Gibson. From the information Sully had given me over the years, I hadn’t thought they were close. I guessed, though, that a year working for him had drawn Craig closer. And that was how Shane Gibson got blood out of a stone. He sucked you in and gave you everything until the day he started slowly demanding some of it back. He moved with stealth, so that you didn’t even realise what he was doing until it was too late and you were handing your life over to him.
Chapter 5
Hyde
Motherfucker.
I blinked my eyes a few times in an effort to open them, while at the same time reaching for my phone. As the sunlight blinded me, I muttered, “Fuck.”
What fucking time was it anyway? Whoever was calling had better have a good fucking reason for waking me up.
Swiping my phone off the bedside table, I barked, “What?” and immediately regretted it when the headache I’d woken up with intensified
“Late night, brother?” King’s voice boomed through the phone. Fuck, could he talk any fucking louder?
“What time is it?”
“Time to get the fuck up.”
I slowly swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge. Cracking one eye open, I took note of the time blaring from the clock in the motel room. Almost seven.
I scrubbed my face. “Why are you calling me so fucking early?”
“We’ve got a situation here. Might need you to come home sooner than planned, so I wanted to see where you were at with everything down there.”
“Just getting started. What’s going on with the club?”
“Marx is fucking with us. He just drowned Sydney in cheap drugs. I need to find him fast before he kills our business, but the fucking feds are making that a little hard.”
Figuring out who was backing Marx was Storm’s top priority, but after we’d taken down the entire Sydney chapter of the Silver Hell MC, Detective Ryland had upped his surveillance of our club. In particular, he had eyes on King every minute of the day and also kept a close watch on Nitro, Devil, and me. Kick had managed to slip through his net somehow.
“I lost my tail on the way down here. They still all over you?”
“Can’t shake the fuckers. How long do you think you’re gonna need with your family?”
For the first time since I’d joined the club, I felt conflicted. My loyalties were divided. Letting King down was the last thing I wanted to do, but the unwavering certainty I’d felt for over a decade that I would never do that wasn’t there anymore. Truth be told, I’d been fighting this for around six months. The pull to my family had grown stronger, until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Fucking shit up with the club like I’d been doing seemed to be my way of not facing it. At least that was Sully’s take on this shit. He’d wasted a lot of fucking breath on telling me to get my head out of my ass.
“Hyde,” King snapped when I didn’t answer him. “How long?”
“I don’t know. When you get to the point that you really need me, let me know. I’ll be there.”
“Yeah.” He paused for a beat. “How’s your kid?” The demanding tone he’d been using disappeared with his last question. This didn’t happen often, but I knew from experience that kids were a trigger for him. They brought out a side to him we hardly ever witnessed. I had to wonder whether having a kid of his own one day would soften him at all. I’d lay bets that it wouldn’t, but there were moments where I caught a glimpse of him that made me question that.
“Not sure yet. My wife’s playing hardball.”
“She won’t let you see your daughter?”
“Not yet, but she will. I’ll make sure of it.”