Riding Blind Page 6

  “I…” Her voice trailed off, not knowing what to say.

  “You aren’t in trouble, are you, Em?”

  Yeah, she was, but not the kind of trouble her boss referred to. “No.” She didn’t explain, and that was okay.

  Naomi wouldn’t push. In five years, Naomi never pushed, never pried. Exactly the type of friend Emelia needed. The type she shot the breeze with, the type she talked to about the present and near future. Naomi gave her that. It was obvious to her now, Naomi sensed Emelia was running, realized that was the type of friend she needed.

  “You’ll keep in touch?”

  Though her only friend couldn’t see her, she nodded. “Yes.”

  They talked for a couple more minutes. In those minutes, Naomi volunteered to clean out her home and get rid of everything. She hated to make her friend do all that work but agreed because she didn’t have a choice, so she told her to sell everything and keep the money. Naomi refused. She insisted and insisted until her friend relented. By that time, Bree walked out of the bathroom, so she said goodbye, hung up, and helped Bree dress. She took ten minutes to get ready herself.

  Together, they left their room. Still early, especially for a biker, from what she remembered, Bryce wasn’t an early riser. In fact, no one could get him out of bed before noon, ever. Regardless, she headed toward his bedroom door across from theirs, the same room she walked out of five years ago. She did this certain she’d wake him, certain he’d open the door and scream at her, and still, she did this because Brianna wanted to have breakfast with him.

  Unbelievable as it was, Brianna was her father’s daughter, a daddy’s girl. She may have been raised by her mother, and she may have never even met her father until the day before, but Brianna always asked about him. Perhaps, partly the blame was Em’s. In some ways, she encouraged it, showing her pictures, telling her stories. How could she not? She wanted the best for her daughter. Even if Bryce wasn’t a part of her life, even if he didn’t want Brianna, she wanted her daughter to know him.

  So as unlikely as it was he’d be awake, knowing that likely she’d wake him, and he’d take the chance to treat her like the scum of the earth, she held Bree’s hand and knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she knocked again with a little more force.

  “He’s not there.”

  She angled her body to her right, facing down the long hallway, and met Strike’s gaze. “Do you know where he is?”

  “Left this morning.”

  She felt and sensed her daughter’s sob before it pierced the air. Immediately, she turned to Brianna and knelt.

  Her big eyes filled with unshed tears. Bree blinked then, and those tears trailed down her face. “He left me, Mommy!”

  Heart clenching, she cupped her daughter’s cheeks. “No, baby, he didn’t. He just has to work. He’ll be back.”

  Another wail tore through her daughter’s throat. The sound so heart-wrenching she felt it in her bones. Acting quickly, she hauled Brianna close and carried her, pulling her face to her neck, muffling the sound of her sobs.

  She needed to get her calm, and it’d take time. Her daughter was a daddy’s girl, who thought her father, the father she’d only just met, abandoned her. Emelia couldn’t blame her. All her fault, she lied to him, to her, and the lies led to this. All because she’d made a huge mistake.

  Guilt clogging her throat, she briskly walked down the hallway and down the stairs, hoping Brianna’s cries hadn’t woken anyone. She didn’t stop until she reached the kitchen. There, she set Brianna on her feet, kneeled in front of her, and tried to soothe her.

  Chapter Four

  “Brother? You’re here?”

  Ripper turned and met Strike’s stare. Glaring, he barked, “What the fuck does it look like to you?”

  God, he was such a dick, all the time. He didn’t know how the hell his brothers put up with him. He couldn’t blame it on Emelia forever, could he?

  Ripper lost her and wanted her back. So many times, he wondered what would’ve happened if she confronted him back then, if she told him her reason for leaving. He knew down to his bones he would’ve never let her go, would’ve found a way to make her stay. He wanted that, another chance, to know why, to make it better, to change her mind. Now, she was back. Instead of trying to do any of that, he was treating her like shit, still being a dick, to her, to his brothers.

  Strike laughed. “Looks like you’re your usual self, too.” He quirked a brow. “Thought you were gone. Your girl’s bawling in the kitchen.”

  His girl? Which one? Which one? There was only one—Bree. “Bree?”

  “Yeah. Em was knocking on your door. I saw her and told her you were gone. Your girl started sobbing. She thinks you left her. That was like a half hour ago. She’s still at it, man. Em’s trying to…”

  Ripper didn’t hear the rest of what Strike said because, on a dead run, he headed inside. Heart lodged in his throat, he slammed open the door leading into the compound then sprinted toward the sound of Bree’s sobs, leading him to the kitchen. As he neared, he heard Emelia’s voice. For some reason, he froze just out of sight and listened.

  “Bree, baby, I promise you your dad is coming back.”

  “B-but whhhyyyy he leaavvveee meee…”

  “Your dad has to work. You know how I used to leave you at school, then I’d come get you?” She paused. “Well, your dad needs to work. It doesn’t mean he isn’t coming back.”

  “B-but…” Her breathing hitched. “Before he was away b-because of woooork.”

  Emelia told her that he hadn’t been around because of work? Lying to their daughter when the truth was she hadn’t told him about her. If he’d known about Bree, he never would’ve spent a day away.

  Rage pulsing through him, he took a deep breath, and though he never prayed, he prayed then he wouldn’t strangle Emelia on sight for making his baby girl suffer, for making him suffer. Yet all that anger faded when it occurred to him… His beautiful Bree, even believing her mother’s lies, thinking his work was more important than her, loved him, wanted him around so much she was in tears thinking he wouldn’t come back.

  His heart clenched so hard he swore any moment it’d explode inside his chest.

  Maybe he had a rough life. Maybe Emelia leaving killed whatever good he had, but she gave him something too—his Bree.

  “I know that’s what I said, but things have changed now,” Emelia said. “Why do you think he brought you here to live with him? It’s because he missed you so much because he loves you so much, he wants to see you every day, and he wants to spend time with you every day.”

  Her fuck up aside, she was a good mother. Would he ever catch up?

  Another sob tore through Bree. He moved, without thought, on instinct, not knowing what he planned to say or do to make her stop crying. At the threshold, he caught sight of Emelia, her back toward him, kneeling in front of Bree, whose eyes were swollen. Still not knowing what to say, what to do, he froze.

  Bree’s red-rimmed eyes went to him. Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. With her little hands, she wiped her tears quickly. But she didn’t go to him, she just stood there, brows furrowed, chin trembling. Emelia twisted, her gaze hit him. He fought not to look her way.

  Emelia faced Bree. “See, baby, I told you your dad would come back. Why don’t you say good morning?”

  Bree’s eyes watered again.

  Shit. Why was she crying now? What should he do?

  Bree’s stare shooting to Emelia, she asked in barely a whisper, “Is Daddy mad at me?”

  Why would he be mad at his baby girl? He didn’t let Emelia speak. “I’m not mad, Bree. I wish you’d stop crying though. Don’t like to see my girl cry.”

  With those words, Bree launched herself at him. He caught her under her arms and lifted her into his embrace. With her small body against his, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and simultaneously laced his fingers through her hair. “Mornin’, baby.”

  “M-morning, Daddy.” Her
breath hitched on the first word. Her little body jerked against his when she hiccupped.

  Drawing away, he met her gaze. “Are you gonna tell me why you think I’m mad at you?”

  She hesitated. “…Because I was…crying.”

  “Let’s get a couple of things straight, ‘kay?” He kept his voice soft.

  She nodded.

  “Crying won’t make me mad at you. It’ll only make me sad ’cause I don’t want my girl crying. I want her happy, yeah?”

  She smiled softly then nodded.

  “Remember what I said yesterday? When I told you I wasn’t leaving you?”

  She nodded.

  “You gotta believe me, baby. You gotta believe I’m not leaving you, not ever. Sometimes, I won’t be around ’cause I gotta work. Sometimes work’ll take me far away. I may be gone for a couple of days, but it won’t be like before. I promise you I’ll always come back. I’m not ever leaving you, Bree, ever. You understand?”

  Her eyes watered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his chest. Finally, she nodded.

  He cupped the back of her head, kissed her forehead, and took a deep breath. God, she smelled good.

  Pulling away, she asked, “Do you have to work today, Daddy?”

  Yeah, he did. He should. He’d just become a father, meaning he needed extra cash more than ever. Not that he didn’t have a bunch in savings, but kids cost or so he heard. He was already five years late saving for her college, and he needed to make some adjustments to his house so by the time the shit storm with Chained and the Falcons was over, he could move her into a real home. For those reasons, he needed to work, but staring into her eyes, eyes that reminded him she was his baby girl, he couldn’t.

  “Today’s just for you, Bree.”

  He had to talk with Prez first, find out how the Falcons found Emelia and Bree, but then, he’d spend the day with her. Deciding this was worth it because Bree gave him this look, like he made the whole world better by just breathing. Then she smiled wide.

  ****

  Angling her wrist to her face, Emelia checked her watch and learned only a couple of minutes had passed since the last time she checked.

  After Bree’s crying fit that morning, Bryce carried her away. Emelia wanted to give them their privacy, so she hadn’t followed. She occupied her time by calling her landlord informing him she had a family emergency and left the state. She only had three months left on her lease, and breaking it meant she had to pay for those three months. That cut into her savings by more than half. Half of the rest of it would go in damages that occurred yesterday when her house was shot up. It sucked, but there was little she could do. She never had renter’s insurance, primarily because she couldn’t afford rent, her car, gas, food, etcetera for her and Bree on her salary. This meant she had to find a job faster than she thought. That brought another problem. She needed a car to get to a job because she couldn’t depend on Bryce or anyone else driving her daily. She had a car in New Mexico. The fifteen-year-old Honda had been close to dying, the reason she’d been saving.

  Her landlord also told her she needed to contact the police, so she did. When she spoke to the detective investigating the shooting, she was brief, telling him she and her daughter left town for a family emergency before it happened. Luckily, there hadn’t been any witnesses who’d seen them leaving.

  An hour later, she left her room, intent on finding Bryce. Strike told her he took off with Bree. That had been around ten in the morning. For nine hours, she hadn’t seen or heard from her daughter and Bryce, so she’d been standing outside for close to an hour. She wasn’t used to not being with Bree, wasn’t used to not knowing where she was. Being the sole provider and caregiver for the last almost five years assured that, so her nerves were expected. So many times, she’d been seconds from asking one of the brothers for Bryce’s number to call him. Every time, she stopped herself because he deserved time with Bree alone without her inferring or asking questions, questions that though were asked with good intentions would serve to make him think she didn’t trust him with their daughter.

  Sighing heavily, she looked down at her feet then heard a familiar voice.

  “Scared he ran off with your kid?”

  Those words drew her away from her thoughts. She turned and met a pair of light hazel eyes. Bud hadn’t changed a bit. Dark hair framed his face and contrasted perfectly against his eyes. He always wore white V-neck shirts. She never asked why. He and Bryce had been close. It sounded odd to anyone else, but that was the way it was. Having seen it in Chained and Hell Ryders, she knew within the club, some brothers got along better than others. Bryce and Bud were best friends, always had been. Their friendship had been forged before they joined the club when they’d just been a couple of kids. They grew up on the same street in a rough neighborhood, so it’d been natural for her to wonder why amid everything that happened yesterday Bud hadn’t been with Bryce.

  She straightened. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  He laughed aloud though it was humorless. The sound died suddenly when his eyes hardened. “So sure ‘bout that?”

  She hesitated only briefly then nodded.

  Smirking, he shot back, “It’s been a long time, Em. People change. He ain’t the man you used to know.”

  The message clear, one Bud didn’t need to deliver. The man she loved was long gone. He’d been gone before she left. She didn’t know when it happened. In reality, she didn’t even know if it happened. Maybe the man she fell for never existed. Maybe she lived two years thinking he was someone he wasn’t. Eventually, she discovered it, and it was the reason she left.

  The difference now, the woman he’d known was long gone, too. Shit happened, and when it happened, it changed you. That’s what happened to her.

  “I don’t think I ever knew him.”

  She regretted saying it instantly because it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the first or last woman to be lied to, toyed with, and hurt. A part of her thought she deserved what she got. She knew better. Living with Chip and Track, she witnessed the way bikers lived. Rarely if ever did they settle down, and ninety-five percent of the ones who settled cheated, so she should’ve expected what she got. But she chose to believe the lie, a lie she wanted to believe because it was beautiful. In spite of everything, she loved him. It’s the reason even knowing everything she knew about bikers, everything she’d seen, she believed the lie until it stared her in the face, laughing.

  His eyes widened, brows rose. Taking a menacing step in her direction, the lines of his face hardening, he barked, “What?”

  She didn’t flinch, didn’t respond either, so they stood there in silence until he spoke again. This time, there was much more anger in his voice.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Again, she didn’t answer. She held still, her eyes never leaving his.

  After a long moment, seemingly having figured out she wouldn’t answer, he looked away, clenched his jaw tightly, and met her stare. “Playing victim ain’t gonna work, babe. This is his club. We’re his brothers, and we ain’t falling for a bitch’s act.”

  With those last words, he turned and strode inside, slamming the door shut on his way in.

  She wasn’t insulted in the least. She expected it. Again, everything he said she knew to be true. Brothers in the club covered for each other, no matter the circumstance. She shouldn’t have said anything. A slip of the tongue, a glimpse of the woman she used to be that at that moment shone through. Bad timing, they already hated her for leaving the way she had, for taking Bree and not telling Bryce about her, no matter her reasons, so saying what she had only served to infuriate the lot of them.

  Feeling like an idiot, she turned just in time to see an SUV drive into the lot. A second later, Bryce hopped out, strode around the car, and opened the back door. He reached in grabbing Bree then began walking toward her with Bree draped across his chest asleep. He had one arm under her butt and the other cupping the back of
her head, clutching her to him. His head down, gaze on their daughter, he then lifted his stare, and his eyes met hers. The moment they did, they hardened, his jaw clenching.

  He strode past her, releasing the back of Bree’s head for a spare moment to open the door. He marched through without bothering to hold the door for her, something he had done all those years ago. The fact he didn’t, another bitter reminder of her mistake.

  Chest burning, she followed him inside through the garage toward the back door that led into the club’s compound. Again, he opened the door and walked through. She followed down the long corridor, past the large living area with several couches, where three others including Bud sat in front of the big screen TV watching a game. The moment they spotted Bryce with Bree, they quieted. Bryce sauntered through without sparing a glance at them toward another hallway. She tailed him, thinking it was nice of them to quiet down for Bree, thinking the bikers she’d known before wouldn’t have, thinking, perhaps, another brother had had kids, and it’s why they’d grown accustomed to doing this.

  Bryce climbed the stairs and continued down another hall until he reached her and Bree’s room. Opening the door, he stepped inside and headed for the bed. There, he hovered over the mattress and placed Bree on it gently. Without needing to be told, he removed her shoes, covered her with the blanket, leaned in, and pressed a kiss to Bree’s forehead.

  Emelia watched, her hand pressed to her chest where her heart clenched. Never in a million years would she have guessed the man who claimed he didn’t like kids, the man who claimed he never wanted to be a father, would be so tender.

  He turned without meeting her gaze and lifted his chin in the direction of the door. This action, his silent command they talk outside. She shifted and headed for the door. Once outside, she met his glare. His eyes, that strange, beautiful blue-green color, the same that had once looked at her so lovingly, filled with hate, overflowing with anger and dead.

  Still not used to seeing death in those eyes, she stuttered, “Um, I…”

  “Don’t got all fuckin’ night. Say what you gotta say,” he sniped. His voice, too, filled with rage.