Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“No interest in seeing Uncle Nox and the rest of your uncles?”
Chloé’s fingers stuttered to a stop and Dylan turned his head to ask, “Are we going to the clubhouse?”
Finally a spark of life. “Even better.”
“What?” his daughter asked, actually looking interested. Miracle of all fucking miracles.
Like every weekend or week they spent with him, by the end of it, they were much more loving and talkative. But, damn, it was rough getting to that point. And by the time it got there, they were going back to Sasha’s.
Then next visit, the cycle started all over again.
“We’re doing a club run and all the kids are coming.”
“Can I ride with Uncle Nox?” Chloé asked, her eyes actually a bit excited with the prospect of going on a ride.
“No, Dylan is.”
In the back seat, Dylan did a fist pump and yelled, “Yes!”
She frowned. “Then can I ride with Monty?”
“I’m not sure she can make it, honey, she usually works Sundays. You’re riding with your old man.”
“Oh.”
There went that tiny scrap of enthusiasm.
“Is Beck going?” Suddenly that enthusiasm was back, but in full force.
He glanced over at his daughter with a frown. Cross and Nash’s adopted twins were about the same age as her. Chloé was only a few months older.
“Not sure if Beck will want to go. Hopefully Bri will.”
Did his daughter have an interest in Beck? The boy had a shitload of issues. Most likely he’d end up taking after Nash. Crew had no doubt if he did, the kid would join the Dirty Angels MC, and not become a cop like Cross, a member of the Blue Avengers.
The kid was going to be trouble. Actually, he already was. He was constantly stealing and fighting and getting suspended from school.
He’d even run away for two weeks not long after the couple adopted him.
Cross and Nash had their damn hands full with those two. Brielle was a little easier to deal with. Beck had a chip on his damn shoulder that might as well be a boulder.
Crew wouldn’t be surprised if the boy eventually ended up in prison.
“I’m going to text him and tell him to go.”
Crew just about choked on his spit. She was going to what? “How do you have his number?”
Chloé shot him a look like he was an idiot. They probably exchanged numbers at one of the BAMC events or found each other through social media.
“How often do you talk to him?”
A curtain came down over her expression. “Not often.”
The fuck if he believed that.
But that guaranteed one thing…He would be having a long fucking discussion with Beck’s father, Cross.
Crew was determined to keep those two apart. He would do whatever he needed to do to protect his baby girl.
Whether Chloé wanted that or not.
Because Father always knew best.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When she drove down the alley behind the task force’s plant, she was surprised to find the gate wide open. And when she went to pull in, even more surprised to find the parking lot jammed packed with bikes.
She had déjà vu for a second, since that was how the parking lot at Hawg Wild usually looked.
But this was not Hawg Wild and the people milling around were not outlaw bikers. They were all upstanding citizens.
For the most part.
She ended up putting her Audi in reverse and parking along the alley until she could find out what the hell was going on.
After walking through the gate, she saw a few Blue Avengers members—clearly identifiable because they were wearing their cuts—she’d been previously introduced to, even if briefly—as well as BAMC members also on the task force like Decker, Finn, Rez and Nox.
The last had a smaller girl child in his arms with her own arms hanging around his neck. It shocked her to see how alive the man with the normally dead eyes looked.
The rest of the kids, mostly tweens or teens, were gathered in groups talking with each other.
She didn’t spot Crew and wondered if his two kids were in attendance for whatever was happening.
As she worked her way around the line-up of Harleys and humans, she gave a few waves and nods to everyone she knew and headed toward the exterior stairs to the third floor.
But just as she was about to take the first step up, Crew came barreling out of the side door. He stopped dead and stared at her.
Funny, because she did the same.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
A frown twisted her lips. “What do you mean? I’m picking up the pool car.” Did he hit his head or something? Maybe his memory was deteriorating.
“No.”
Her head jerked back. “What do you mean no?”
“Did you work at Hawg Wild Friday and Saturday night?”
Did he not trust her to do her damn job? “Of course. Didn’t you see my daily reports?”