Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Fuck. They’d done that only yesterday. Used Shirley children as shields. But Dyna might not be home with them, or possibly even alive, if they hadn’t.
They’d had no choice.
He couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. “You’ll never be Trixie, Jem. Not ever.” That was the goddamn truth. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t see it. Maybe she just didn’t want to.
“When Dyna was taken, I could’ve told that cop what happened and got the police involved. A normal person would’ve been screaming at the top of her lungs that her baby had been kidnapped. I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut so the club could handle it. That’s something Trixie would’ve done. Any of the ol’ ladies, past and present. Afterward, that fact hit me harder than I ever thought it would. I could’ve put Dyna in danger by simply not letting the cops handle it right away. If something would’ve happened to your daughter, it would’ve been my fault, Chris. Mine.”
“Nothin’ happened to her. She’s fine. She’s home. And she’s happy.”
“This time. What about the next time?”
He gritted his teeth. “Ain’t gonna be a next time.” They’d make sure of it. Soon.
“There will always be a next time. This is what living this lifestyle entails. Constant threats. From law enforcement. From other clubs. Hell, from crazy fucking clans.” She shook her head. “Don’t you want better for her?”
“She’s got the best right here. This ain’t the Originals’ club. This is our club. We haven’t gone lookin’ for trouble once. Not once. But we ain’t gonna sit back and let someone fuckin’ threaten or hurt our family. And that’s what this is, Jem. The Fury is our family. Not just mine and Dyna’s. Yours, too. Why can’t you fuckin’ see that?”
“That’s not what I saw yesterday.” Her voice was soft and filled with sadness. “Yesterday brought it all back. Reminded me of what I didn’t want. And it did it in a way I couldn’t ignore. We could’ve lost Dyna yesterday, Chris.”
He slammed the now half-empty beer bottle on the plastic arm of the chair. “You hear yourself? We. You’ve raised her since she was just a few days old, Jem. She doesn’t know any other mother but you. If you don’t want to stay for me, stay for her. Don’t desert her.” His voice cracked on his last few words and he didn’t fucking care.
“Don’t you lay that guilt on me, Chris. Just don’t. It’s low. Jesus Christ, it’s lower than low.”
She couldn’t abandon Dyna.
Not like Sarah did with his daughter.
Not like Bebe did with her sons.
He surged to his feet, his blood screaming in his ears. “You, Jemma, you are her mother! Not Sarah. You. You can’t leave!” he shouted.
She needed to see the truth, knock down the barrier of her past.
“I’m not her mother!” she yelled back, quickly getting to her feet, too. “I’m not. I...” She spun away, one hand clamped to her forehead, the other on her hip. She took two strides away from him before spinning back with her chest heaving.
Cage didn’t like the expression on her face. It twisted his gut and caused a wider crack in his own chest.
Her voice shook as she shouted, “You want me to raise her? Be her mother? Let me take her with me. Let me keep her safe. I’ll raise her and love her as my own.”
“What?” tore from his throat on a raw whisper. His heart seized and he stared at her, the blood draining from his face and pooling like bubbling lava in his gut. “What the fuck, Jemma? I’ll keep her fuckin’ safe. I’m her goddamn father!” He couldn’t stop the last part from becoming a roar.
He could feel himself breaking apart. He kept trying to gather the pieces and keep himself whole. Losing it wouldn’t help.
“You didn’t, though.”
That accusation came so softly, so deadly, that Cage cringed as that fucking sharp knife of hers plunged deep into his chest. It caused him to strike out in defense. “Neither did you.”
Fuck! He regretted those words the goddamn second they burst from him.
The wounded look on her face twisted the fucking blade stuck in his heart, turning it into mincemeat.
“I’m sorry it’s come to this,” she said in a choked whisper, the pain evident.
“It was always coming to this, Jemma, always. You always had one fuckin’ foot out the door. Ready to escape. ‘Cause you refuse to face your past. To move past it. You know damn well you could raise her here. With me. You just don’t want to.”
She said nothing. Her silence was killing him just as much as her words had.
“Bottom line is, you ain’t takin’ my fuckin’ daughter. She’s mine. And you know what? You’re mine, too, Jemma. Take off your goddamn blinders and see what’s right the fuck in front of you.”