by Blue Remy
Dalton cleared his throat as he walked back into the kitchen, setting down the shots from earlier. “Take a look.”
Thorne blinked rapidly in surprise. She picked up the pictures, setting them down one by one as she viewed the shots. They were beyond amazing. The angles he chose and the lighting and filters—she couldn’t believe her eyes. They had to have been photo-shopped, airbrushed…something.
She released a shattered breath that she had not realized she was holding. Her eyes lifted, trying to see through the blurred vision. “This is me?”
“Is a frog’s ass watertight?” Dalton replied back to her in a sarcastic tone. “Yes, Thorne. That is all you. I just aimed and let the camera do its thing.”
Not one picture showed her scar fully. You could see the one around her throat, but it almost looked like she was wearing a choker. “Uhm, wow,” was all she could say. She sincerely did not expect the pictures to come out like they did. She looked like how she once did, unmarred. Perfect.
“Scars give character, Thorne. It adds to your beauty, when you’re not being a raging bitch and feeling sorry for yourself. I really hope this proves it. And I won’t say it again.” Knuckles rapped against the table when he yawned. “It’s my bedtime. Thank you for fixing me up, Thorne.”
Her eyes fluttered closed as he cupped her head in his hand and kissed the top of it. She watched him walk down the hallway and disappear into his room. Looking back at the pictures, she smiled a hopeful smile, running her thumb over one of the photo’s she held.
“I hate it when he’s right.”
Chapter Eighteen
Today was the day.
The day to let loose and have some fun.
The Twentieth Annual SOMC Block Party.
Romeo had several Nomads of the club staying at the ranch since they were spending the week cleaning up the clubhouse and getting it ready for the event that Orcutt lived for. The two prospects, Zacky-boy and Knucklehead, had helped with the renovations, though they were still missing one, Janus.
Romeo had the whole block shut down, from the top of the hill where Elmer’s was, all the way down to the old antique tea shop of Amy’s, Ariel’s Treasure Cove. All of the businesses pitched in some money or supplies, everything from alcohol to hamburgers and hot dogs. Every business owner and employee was welcome to the party, along with the SOMC chapters from Reno, Louisiana, and Mississippi. Not only was the club there, but their support group, the Steel Horsemen, was there to BBQ.
All the money taken in from the games and vendors strewn about the street was given to the local pit bull rescue to ensure the animals were well taken care of. Security roamed the perimeter of the party, made up of all the prospects from each chapter, and a couple of off duty policemen that were friends with the club and tended to look out after them.
The vendors were mostly club members’ ol’ ladies, selling things they made, usually something dealing with the SOMC, whether it be patches, jewelry, pins; you name it, the women were selling it. The games were set up for the kids: a cake walk, dunk the Reno president, bean bag toss, ring toss, gold fishing, and a huge ass Twister that the adults could even play on. There was face painting by Antonia, who was decked out to the nines in an elaborate Tinker Bell costume that the kids seemed to love.
Romeo even invited the local gypsy to set up her red tent to read fortunes and palms of whatever fool decided to venture in and waste their money. Hell, even Romeo was debating going in and forking over twenty bucks to see if she could tell him what the fuck to do.
Clowns wandered the block handing out balloons, making balloon animals, and scaring a few people as well, much to the delight of several members. Food vendors were selling sno-cones, churros, funnel cakes, ice cream, and cotton candy. Off to the side was a huge tent setup that held picnic tables and chairs for those who wanted out of the sunlight and to eat and cool off.
Three bands had been hired, as well as Grant Random, from Sirius XM’s OCTANE, to DJ the event and be the spokesperson and guest of honor. In front of the stage was a portable dance floor for liquored up idiots and those who just plain liked to boogie to dance their asses off.
Romeo was currently surveying the party from the bottom of the small hill, beer in hand. His poor bald head was covered with a baseball cap slung low over his eyes. He was with Wolf; Sinjin, vice president of the Reno, Nevada chapter; Bishop, president of the New Orleans, Louisiana chapter; Trouble, president of the Steel Horsemen; and Injun, president of the Meridian, Mississippi chapter.
“How’s Amy holding up, man? She’s looking fat and sassy.” Bishop asked as his nearly black eyes glanced to Romeo then back to watching the crowd. He was the smallest of the group, a mere five foot eleven, but he was built like a brick shit house. The man lived in the gym when he wasn’t working his tattoo shop. With short cropped black hair, he sported a very close shaven beard that could technically be called a five o’clock shadow.
Romeo snorted and lifted up the beer holding hand, motioning to Mace and Amy at the cotton candy vendor. “Exactly that. She keeps Mace on his toes, and we just found out they’re having twins.”
Sinjin burst out laughing as he pulled back the long, red-tinted blond hair out of his steel grey eyes and tied it off. “You sure Mace can handle her and twins?”
Romeo laughed with everyone, head tilted to the side to glance to the Viking. “He can hold his own. I’m glad he made it.”
Wolf nudged Romeo with his elbow, his chin lifted slightly to indicate who he wanted Romeo to look at.
A low whistle came from Injun with a small shake of his head. “Apollo is playing with fire there.”
“Yeah, but it’s a good match. She needed to have her ass straightened out and he is the best to do it.” Romeo finished off his beer and tossed the bottle in the garbage. He stepped past Injun and stuck his hand in the cooler to dig around to find a water.
“She’ll kick the shit out of him if he steps out of line.” Injun snickered, clinking bottles with the others, who nodded in agreement.
He looked back to the heavy set male. He had light-brown hair that was medium length, slightly curly and slicked back, showing the blazing blue eyes off. His face was handsome and sharp angled, six foot two and thick boned, not male model material, but you literally had to beat the hordes of women off of him most of the time.
“That’s what I had in mind when I set it up.” Romeo pulled out a bottle of water, uncapped it, and drank half of it down.
Sinjin nodded, following Romeo’s lead on the water and grabbed one of his own. “I’m shocked he got her out in public like this. Your plan seems to be working. She’s actually smiling.”
Trouble chimed in, the double pierced labret hooks moving with his mouth. “She won’t be smiling if someone opens their mouth about what really happened.”
The baldheaded male dampened the cheerful mood with reality, forcing a frown from Romeo. “Yeah, she’ll go fucking postal if she finds out. But I know Apollo. It’ll never come from him.”
Bishop cleared his throat, rocking back on his booted heels. “Speaking of going postal, I have to say, Romeo, we’re all impressed at your decision not to go to war over this shit.”
And on that note…
Romeo reached for another beer, twisted off the cap, and snapped it into the garbage can. “Yeah, well, thank Wolf for talking me down.”
Wolf turned to look at the others with a quirked brow. “I didn’t talk shit down. I just spoke the truth. The rest is on you.”
“I don’t give a damn how it happened, but we’ve got your six on whatever you decide.” Sinjin lifted his water in salute and drank it all down, ready to go back to beer.
Romeo leaned against the tailgate of the club truck, long legs crossed at the ankles with a grin. “I know, bro. I’m not worried about that. And look who just arrived, late as usual.”
Every male turned to see who Romeo was talking about.
The Hell’s Belles always made quite an entrance. Romeo could honestly say there was not
one unattractive female in the bunch. The girls strolled in, scratch that—prowled in—each one in some form of Daisy Dukes and boots, whether they were cowboy boots or thigh highs, the women were strutting their shit like it didn’t stink. Since it was a family event, Romeo warned Kitra to tell the club president, Tessa, to make sure they kept their tops on. They usually just walked around in see-through tops, vests that were held open by chains, or pasties. Today, they were in support shirts, baby T’s, tanks, and halter tops.
Good girls.
“And this is my cue to leave.” Sinjin grinned large and in charge, nodded to the other men, only to leave them behind to go talk to the ladies.
Bishop, Trouble, and Injun weren’t far behind, leaving Wolf and Romeo alone.
“You know…”
Romeo cut Wolf off mid-sentence as he stared ahead at the men making fools of themselves in front of the 82s. “At our eleven o’clock. I heard them roll up, they’ve been watching for about twenty minutes.”
“That’s the Romeo I know.” Wolf’s voice held a hint of praise as he crossed his arms over the black tank top covered chest.
“I don’t know if anyone else has noticed them. If they have, they’re doing a great job ignoring them.” Romeo tilted his head back to empty his beer bottle, leaning to the side and grabbing another when he finished the one he had.
“I know Sinjin and Bishop did. I saw their body language shift.”
“Dude, you are seriously one creepy, fucked up individual.”
Romeo and Wolf had grown up with one another their whole lives, Stone acting as a surrogate father. Demon, Wolf, and Romeo were the Three Musketeers. Inseparable. Until Wolf joined the military and was sent off to war. He came back a different man. Romeo knew he suffered from PTSD and was helping him through it as much as he could. Wolf refused to talk about what he had seen or had done overseas, but admitted that he was specially trained and if it wasn’t an urban legend, his hands would be registered as lethal weapons.
“Thank you.” A white-toothed grin was given, the hazel eyes hidden by a pair of mirrored sunglasses.
“You think they’re trying to get Intel? Or maybe thinking of crashing the party?”
Wolf shook his head. “Muerte has balls, but he isn’t dumb.”
“True, we’ve got enough fire power here to start a survivalist camp. That and the cops here.” Romeo sighed and shook his head. “The only information they’ll be getting right now is that the ladies of the 82s have bods from Hell.”
Sniggering, Wolf finished off his beer and tossed it to the can. “That they do.” His head cocked to the side.
“Hear something?” Romeo glanced around then back to Wolf. Seriously, sometimes Romeo wondered if they did some super soldier experiments on Wolf with his keen senses that he had.
“They’re gone. I heard the last bike leave.”
“Like I said.” Romeo snorted and pushed off the tailgate, his ass going numb from sitting there too long. “How about let’s go throw balls at Red?”
Big Red, otherwise known as Red, was Sinjin’s father and president of the Reno chapter. He was straight off the boat from Norway and looked like a giant. The kids all adored him, using him as a jungle gym, since he was six foot seven. His son came by it honest, looking like a true Viking, down to the shaved undercut and long hair, tattoo’s on the sides of his head depicting his Nordic heritage.
“Mr. James?”
The voice stopped Romeo from moving, forcing him to turn slightly and see who was calling him by his father’s name. Being formally addressed was not something he was used to. “Yeah?”
He came face to face with a younger version of what could be his mother or Amy, and a male in a suit standing next to her. The girl looked to be maybe all of thirteen, with strawberry blonde hair that looked to be turning brown, reaching down to her back in loose curls. The eyes that stared back at him screamed Stone; they were Icelandic blue and framed by thick black lashes. She did not have the skin coloring of a redhead, but held a slight caramel color as if she spent hours out in the sun tanning. She was taller than most girls her age should be, and she was already developing a healthy figure of curves that could make a man misjudge her age rather easily.
The male stuck out his hand. “I’m Thomas Rathorne, Esquire, you are Zen James?”
“You obviously know that already if you’re talking to me.” Romeo took the male’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “What can I do for you?”
Rathorne reached into his suit pocket, produced an envelope, and held it out to Romeo. “You have sole custody of your daughter, Shiloh Margaret Lopez-James.”
Come again?
Romeo looked to Wolf, who was impassive as always, and just shrugged like an idiot, then looked back to the hand still holding the envelope for him to take. “I’m sorry. You sure you got the right guy?”
“All the information is in the envelope, with a letter from her mother, Margaret Rose Lopez. I believe you knew her as Maggie?”
All of his breath left him. It felt like someone nut-checked his ass. His vision went dark for a split second, forcing him to shake his head and blink rapidly. Instant reaction was sheer fucking denial. He barked out in laughter. “The guys put you up to this, didn’t they?”
Rathorne cleared his throat nervously even though he wagged the sealed envelope in his hand. “What guys?”
Wolf gave the slightest shake of his head, then leaned it toward the girl. “We had nothing to do with this, bro.”
“Could you stop talking about me like I’m not here? Geeze.” The girl snatched the envelope out of the lawyer’s hand and slapped it up against Romeo’s chest. “Will you read it already?”
Romeo’s head snapped toward the girl, eyes meeting her own. Her gaze never wavered, though she lifted up a single brow. Good God, she even acted like Stone. She was going to be a force to be reckoned with.
“Shiloh, please. Be nice—”
The red head jerked around to look at the lawyer. “I hate that name. You know this. I answer to Rebel.” She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight, placing her hands on her hips, her bracelet-laden wrists jangling. “I’m your kid, okay? Uncle Hawkeye will vouch for me. I was raised by my aunt, Uncle Hawkeye’s ex?” Both brows rose up as she stared expectantly at the adult males.
“Ohmuhgosh.” Rebel ran the words together with an over exaggerated sigh. “Seriously? Uhm, hello. I look like a mix between Grandpa and Grandma and Mom. Even Grandpa said so.”
What. The. Fuck.
Stone fucking knew?
Romeo was speechless for once in his life. His mind couldn’t comprehend or process the information fast enough. His hand flew up to ward off anyone saying anything else before he could make sense of everything that was just laid out before him.
Emotions were nothing more than a pure maelstrom inside of him. He didn’t know what to feel: happy at having a kid, pissed off at Maggie and Stone for lying to him for so many years. Should he deck Hawkeye for lying to him and withholding information like this from him, or be elated at having a small piece of Maggie alive and to give him something to live for?
“This is fucking impossible. Maggie and I…” he tapered off his voice to catch himself from going into detail the one time they actually fucked.
“Mom said it only took one time.” Rebel stared flatly at him.
Wolf finally decided to speak up on Romeo’s behalf. “Why wasn’t this done in a court room? Why do this now? Not eight months ago?”
Thank you, Wolf. At least he had his wits about him.
Rathorne nodded, his fingers fumbled as he tried to loosen the knot of his tie. “Ms. Lopez specifically asked in her will that it be done during the party because Mr. James would be around family and have a support system due to the probable shock he would go into.”
Boy fucking howdy.
“Uhm, yeah. Gimme a minute.” Romeo mumbled. He had to have a moment alone to figure this shit out. He turned around and walked a few paces away from the trio. Gre
en eyes glanced at the envelope crumpled up in his hand. He gave no more thought to it as he smoothed it out and opened it.
There were three papers inside. Romeo took them out, unfolded them, and came face to face with reality. A DNA test that stated Shiloh was his. Jesus H Christ. Where was fucking Maury Povich when you needed him? The next page was a copy of Shiloh’s birth certificate marking him as the father. The last paper was a copy of the short Will and Testament of Maggie, stating that in the event of her death, that Shiloh be given over to her father, Zen James, along with the trust fund that Romeo had no clue he had been a trustee over, until Shiloh turned eighteen.
Why was this kept from him? Why would Stone and Gail keep something like this hidden? It made no sense. None of it did. Hawkeye and the little girl better have some fucking answers.
“Wolf, grab Hawkeye. Now.” Romeo made his way back to the small group and nodded to the lawyer. “Thank you for bringing her to me. I’ll take it from here.”
Rebel’s face broke into an award winning smile as she emitted a tiny squeak in what Romeo assumed meant she was excited about the idea of being with him.
“If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact me. I have been handling all of Ms. Lopez’s estate.” Rathorne passed a business card to Romeo and nodded to Shiloh. “Don’t give him too much hell.”
Once the lawyer was out of sight, Romeo turned his attention back to Rebel. “There better be some damn good reasons as to why your mother kept you from me.” His jaw was clenched when he turned toward the truck and slammed the tailgate shut, finger jutted out to point to the cab. “Get in.”
“There’s this little word called please.” Rebel wrinkled her nose up, her arms wrapped about herself, in a gesture of uncertainty.
“Now.” Romeo glared at her, but immediately softened as he saw her posture change into a defensive stance. “Please?”
Once she climbed in, Romeo texted Wolf, telling him to bring Hawkeye to the house. This was going to remain under wraps until he knew what the fuck was going on. He hated to do the same thing that his parents and Maggie did to him, to Thorne and Amy, but he felt it was a necessary evil.