I tried to pull my arm free, felt the metal of the handcuffs dig into my wrist as I screamed out in frustration.
She needs me and there is no end in sight.
No way out.
No looking into her eyes and making it right.
There’s nothing.
I don’t know how many fucking times I called Blackie, but that fuck hasn’t answered not one goddamn call. I don’t need this shit, honest to God, I don’t. I’ve got a daughter on the brink of a mental breakdown, a war with the Chinese and a goddamn head that won’t be silenced.
I don’t need to worry my vice president is off the grid on a mission to kill himself and I don’t need the suspicions my mind is feeding me about him and Lacey either. That shit needs to be put to bed.
I needed to concentrate on Lacey, on getting her the help she needs and rallying the people in her life to become a support system because being mentally ill isn’t something that gets fixed instantly with a little pill. It’s a process to even be diagnosed and then when a doctor labels you bipolar they fuck with different medicines until they find one that helps control the chemical imbalance the brain is feeding off.
My little girl has a long fucking road ahead of her and as her father and the man responsible for this shit that’s become her life, so did I, which means Blackie needs to step the fuck up and handle the club.
“Jack?” Reina called, pulling me away from the mess inside my mind and forcing me to focus on the beauty sprawled across my chest.
She lifted her head and my hands instantly went for her hair, threading it through the sea of gold.
“Hmm?”
“You all good?” She questioned, running her hands over my chest as she straddled me.
“I’m good, Sunshine. You make it all better,” I assured as my hands gripped her hips. Reina shut my maker down better than any medication ever could. She took me away from the darkness and reminded me I had life to live and no time to fall into a trap that was created on hypotheticals.
She talked me through the war inside my head and when all else failed, my Sunshine would sing, soothing my soul with her voice and quieting the demon possessing me.
Life was good with Reina in it.
“She will be okay,” Reina whispered, as she caressed my cheek. I reached up, cradled her face in my hands and brought her mouth down to mine. I’m a fucking lucky man.
“When you going to marry me?” I growled against her mouth.
Her lips curved, and she pulled back slightly to look into my eyes.
“Anxious to make me Property of Parrish?” She teased, pressing another kiss to my lips.
Sunshine was my second chance.
A man like me gets a second chance he hangs onto it with everything he’s got.
“You’ve been Property of Parrish, since I first fucking laid eyes on you,” I reminded her. “Time the whole world knows it.”
She laughed, dropping the sheet she had tucked under her arms and granted me the sweetest view. I was about to flip her onto her back and take her another time when I heard the doorbell ring.
I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand.
“That can’t be good,” Reina murmured, sliding off me. We both threw the covers off us and climbed out of bed. I pulled on my jeans, she threw on a t-shirt and we moved towards the stairs, following the sounds of a fist beating down my fucking door.
“It’s probably Blackie all fucked up,” I seethed, hurrying down the stairs.
“I thought he was getting clean?” Reina said behind me.
“Yeah, me too,” I grunted as I reached the front door and pulled it open. Stryker turned around, his expression grim as he rubbed his hands over his short hair.
“We got a big problem,” he said, stepping to the side and revealing my daughter.
“Oh my God,” Reina gasped from behind me, pushing me aside to grab a hold of Lacey. My disheveled little girl stared back at me blankly as black make-up streaked her beautiful face and she clutched Stryker’s leather jacket around her trembling body.
“What the fuck happened?” I roared, grabbing a hold of Stryker’s shirt and pushed him up against the wall. “Why is she with you?”
“Jack!” Reina shouted, wrapping her arm around Lacey’s shoulders and bringing her against her. “Get it under control,” she ordered, eyeballing the broken girl in her arms and ushered her into the house.
I released my grip on Stryker.
“Start fucking talking,” I demanded.
“Look, I don’t know all the details but she left a bar with some guy, the next minute someone comes into the bar screaming there’s a fight in the parking lot. By the time me and the guys got outside, Blackie was beating the fuck out of the guy Lacey was with,” he recounted.
I narrowed my eyes at Stryker, trying to comprehend everything he was saying as he continued to talk.
“Bulldog, it’s bad…real fucking bad. Blackie went fucking nuts and rightfully so the little fuck was going to rape her.”
Everything stopped.
I stepped backward and pinned Stryker with a glare.