Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Hunt had called with some information a little bit ago about the kidnapping case that we’d thwarted, and he’d paused in his trek toward my parents’ front door to take the call.
He frowned hard. “That’s all she remembers? The fingernails?”
“That’s it,” I heard Hunt reply. “Have a good time meeting the in-laws.”
Then he was gone, leaving Sin looking at the front door of the house.
“What about fingernails?” I asked.
Sin dropped the phone from his ear and then pocketed it. “The kid—the girl—she remembers nothing. The only thing she could remember clearly were the woman’s fingernails. She said that they were really long, and scary looking like a witch’s.”
“Huh,” I said softly. “Well, that sucks. I was hoping for more.”
He looked at me like he completely agreed. “Same.”
Then he turned his eyes back to the house.
“Ready?” he asked.
I followed his gaze, then allowed my eyes to travel over the bikes in the front yard, parked on the street, and even in the side yard. “Yep.”
He threw his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in tight to his chest.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised.
Would it? I’d brought one man, and one man only, home to meet my family. Him.
Why?
Because I had the vice president of the Dixie Wardens MC as my dad. The president of the Dixie Wardens MC as my grandfather. A cop for a brother. Badass black ops former-Army uncles that would do anything they could to ensure that I was safe. Then there were the men of my father’s MC. Men that I’d grown up with just as much as I’d grown up with my own parents.
“Just… don’t leave me because of them, okay?” I pleaded.
He looked at me worriedly. “I’m not going to leave you because of something your family does.”
I wasn’t so sure.
“Just remember your promise, okay?” I pushed.
He rolled his eyes and tugged me in close. “Are we going to tell them you’re pregnant?”
I immediately started shaking my head. “Not today. Next time. This time… we just need to get through it.”
His lips twitched. “Honey, I’ve already met your father and your grandfather. It’ll be okay.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
He may know my father. He may, at some point, have served with my dad in some capacity. But he’d never met my father as the man that was dating his little girl.
My father was in a motorcycle club. He was rough, gruff, and abrasive.
And he loved his family fiercely.
He would not, under any circumstances, like any man that his daughter brought home. I was his baby girl.
Except… I was wrong.
My dad… loved him.
There were no other words.
The moment that Dad saw Sin, his face lit up like he’d just seen his best friend that he hadn’t seen in years.
Which, I guess, was kind of true.
At least, somewhat.
When Sin had done what he’d done, my father hadn’t gotten a chance to thank him because the military had stepped in and taken things over.
One second, he was at the hospital with me, and the next he was in prison at Leavenworth.
One thing I did know for sure, my father and grandfather had worked some kind of magic and gotten him out of military prison and into regular prison. He’d been moved to Huntsville State Penitentiary within a year.
No longer part of the military—again, he’d been let go with dishonorable discharge at some point—the opportunity for my dad to see him hadn’t come to pass.
Until now.
The moment we breached the door of my childhood home, and my father who’d been walking by with a beer in his hand saw us—saw Sin—he all but froze.
Then he was all man-hugging Sin in the next instant, spilling his beer all over the ground in his exuberance.
“Holy fucking shit.” My dad groaned as he stepped back, a very wide smile on his face. “I’m glad to see you breathing free air.”
Sin’s lips quirked. “It’s definitely different. Free air. You don’t realize it when you’re inside, but the moment that you get out from behind those bars, it’s like your lungs fill up with something that you haven’t had since you went in.”
Actually, I somewhat knew what he meant. There was just a difference in how you breathed when you were in a prison. I couldn’t tell you how many times that same feeling, though I was sure was quite a bit muted in comparison, stole over me the moment I left a particularly bad shift behind.
“Baylee!” Dad called loudly. “Come out here!” He looked from me to Sin then. “Not that I’m not super fucking happy to see you here, but what the fuck are you doing here? And at that, how are you even out?”
Sin gave me a look that clearly said ‘time to go’ so I rolled my eyes and went in search of my mother.
I found her in the bedroom lying on the bed to get her jeans zipped.