by Bijou Hunter
“Daddy?” Kirby asks me, wide-eyed and completely awake.
“He’ll be back soon,” I lie.
Biting at her bottom lip, the kid is clearly about to cry. Violet walks over and hands me the phone.
“Show her the clip I made earlier.”
Once I do as instructed, Kirby’s tears are delayed while she watches a video of Shelby and Goliath asking questions to the camera.
“Are you Mama’s baby, Kirby?” Shelby asks, and the child nods. “Do you love Daddy?”
“Daddy,” Kirby whispers, touching the screen.
“Does Daddy love Kirby?”
Every time Shelby asks a question, Kirby responds. When Goliath takes over to ask her if she likes dogs, the child again seems ready to lose her cool. She looks at me and asks for him.
“He’s sleeping,” I say, thinking the truth might help.
“Where?” she asks, sitting up.
“Kirby, watch the video,” Violet says calmly. “Does Daddy love you?”
The child returns her attention to the phone and smiles at Goliath talking to her. Violet tells me to put on the second video when the first one ends, and Kirby starts asking for Goliath again. Eventually, Caen finishes his bottle, burps a few times, gets a fresh diaper, and returns to sleep.
Then, Violet slides in next to Kirby, who instantly asks for her daddy.
“He’s sleeping. We have to be quiet,” Violet whispers. “We can wake him when the sun is up, okay?”
Kirby turns to her big sister and snuggles closer. Violet sings quietly for less than a minute before the little girl collapses into sleep. I nearly laugh at how quickly Kirby goes from playing with Violet’s hair to snoring.
Reaching over the little girl, Violet caresses my face. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t roll when I sleep.”
“Neither do I. We shouldn’t squish her.”
And we don’t. Kirby shares our bed until around five when Caen is up for another bottle. This time, she wants to sleep in her crib like a big girl. Kirby cuddles under a blanket and shows me the doll her daddy gave her.
“Daddy loves Kirby,” she tells me and hugs the doll tightly.
“He loves you so much,” I say, and the truth works this time.
Kirby sleeps until nearly eight. By then, Shelby is texting to see if she can have her kids back. She and Goliath take them down for breakfast, but I insist Violet get a few extra hours of rest.
“I don’t have to work today,” I murmur, enjoying her soft body pressed against me. “Let’s sleep.”
Violet doesn’t argue, and we’re out until after lunch. Waking first, I study her relaxed face while imagining her one day working her magic on our kid. I’m not ready yet, obviously. The firehouse is many months from completion, and Pema isn’t fully under Reapers’ control. I don’t own an impulsive heart, and letting nature take its course baby-wise feels reckless.
“You looked so scared with Kirby,” Violet says without opening her eyes. “It was funny to see you so vulnerable.”
Her laughter infects me as I accept how terrified I felt over Kirby crying. When I was little, and my younger siblings cried too much, the twins would take me and run away to our treehouse. They’d sing “The Sound of Silence,” which was just a different kind of noise. Still, after they finished serenading each other, they’d shut up and fantasize about a day when Sylvie would be out of diapers and own a mute button. That second dream never came true.
“I love babies,” Violet says after laughing herself out and making a bathroom trip. “And there are so many to play with here, just like in Shasta. Soon, Vi will have a new baby to love, and Stella said she and Colton are trying. There’s no reason for us to make one when our friends have spares to enjoy.”
“Yes,” I say, wrapping her in my arms. “Yes, to all of that.”
“You’ll be a good father when the time comes. You’re very patient with Io and Pollux, just like you are with River’s kids.”
“Kirby freaks me out,” I admit quietly. “She looks at me, and I see Shelby. I’ve always had a soft spot for your mother.”
“Our baby won’t have that power. He’ll have an entirely different one.”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“I don’t think so. Years ago, I had a dream about a son. Then, I had the dream again when I was with Husband. The baby wasn’t his. I remember feeling such relief in the dream that I cried hard enough to make it rain. When I was free of him, I dreamed of a son again.”
“Is it the same kid?” I ask, wondering if she has a gift.
“No, but it’s always a son.”
“Well, we’ll see.”
“In a few years,” she says, and I’m again relieved. When she talks so casually about our future child, I worry she’ll change her mind about waiting. Women get baby fever. I guess men do, too. I can’t imagine I’ll get infected with it. I prefer to make a well-informed choice based on circumstances and Violet’s emotional needs.
Of course, that night at dinner, Colton swears he’s got baby fever. “I want a little Stella in the world.”
They smile at each other and look ready to procreate on the table. Violet sits next to me at the long table at the Brazilian restaurant. She and Shelby talk decorating plans now that mama bear has seen the firehouse in person. They also discuss ideas for a low-maintenance garden for our future backyard.
While the women chat, I lean over to Colton to mention how I’ve noticed eyes on the hotel and firehouse lately.
“Saw looky-loos outside our apartment the other day,” he mutters. “What’s the point?”
“Intimidate us, probably. They’re not spying lowkey, and sitting outside a building where they can’t see inside doesn’t tell them shit. This is them letting us know they didn’t appreciate us on their territory, so they’ll be pissing on ours.”
“Are we dealing with real threats here?” he says before pausing as Heidi appears behind us and leans in.
“If you’re talking business, I want to hear.”
“He wants to know if the Cosgrove family and their crime cult is a real threat.”
“They seem lame,” Colton mutters.
“They’ve put people in the hospital, burned down buildings, and probably killed a few obstacles,” Heidi points out.
“Probably?”
Now, I frown. “Are you getting cold feet?”
“I’m just wondering if threatening them would be easier than starting a potential war.”
“If they’re weak and we start a war, we’ll win easily. If they’re strong, and we make threats, we give them time to adjust.”
Colton rubs his head and frowns. “I expected them to seem more intimidating, I guess.”
“You want a group of tatted-up bikers to face off with, but your enemy wears their Sunday best while plotting to fuck up your family and mine.”
Colton hears my dig at him and grumbles, “I get it.”
“Taking that first shot and starting a war is a burden on your shoulders, not ours,” I say before Heidi can give Colton crap. “If things go to hell and we need to call in help from Ellsberg, that’ll be on you, not us. So, you should want to be sure.”
Colton studies me with the dark eyes he inherited from harder men. I suspect my president will toughen up fast once the Cosgrove family fights back. Killing Amon won’t be enough to make Idyllwild submit. They’re rich and armed now. They have plans beyond Pema. One dead man is a tragedy, but they’re willing to lose plenty more before they give up their cash cow.
Our discussion ends once the food arrives. We return to lighthearted topics such as family and pets. There’s some gossip, too, about who is fucking who back in Ellsberg. Finally, we decide on drinks at the club’s main clubhouse.
Violet holds my hand whenever we’re not eating. She still gets excited over being out in public as my woman.
“We’ll need all new furniture for the firehouse,” Violet tells Stella after we end up at another long table, this time
at the Belly Up Bar. “Oliver kept most of Maverick’s furniture when he moved in. He’s almost ready to open up his tattoo shop downstairs next to Max’s Tacos.”
“Dean will be Oliver’s first Shasta customer,” Shelby announces. “My man wants his family’s names on his chest. I’m putting them on my wrists because I’m too vain to mark up my tits.”
Violet giggles so much at this comment that I suspect the booze is already hitting her. Stella also seems rosy-cheeked, making me wonder what’s in their cocktails.
“What kind of songs do they have in the karaoke machine?” Colton asks Heidi, and I freeze immediately. Nothing interests me less than listening to my president sing. “Anything good by Huey Lewis?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Heidi mutters. “I don’t manage this fucking bar.”
“Don’t get agitated just because your man can’t keep a beat.”
“Hey,” Jox growls before instantly losing interest in acting offended.
I notice Stella tugging at Colton’s hand, subtly begging him not to put her on display. He leans into her ear, whispers something, and then sucks at her throat until she gives in. They walk to the machine and look through the songs.
“I hope he falls off that stage,” Heidi grumbles.
“Why, baby?” Jox asks.
“I’m on my period, baby. Meaning, I hope everyone falls off that stage.”
“We’ll go after they’re done,” Savannah announces and shares a smile with Bjorn. “Maybe we can find something from ABBA.”
“That’s a Swedish band,” he says.
“Close enough. It’s like me singing something by a New York singer. Besides, I know the words to ABBA songs.”
“As do I,” Bjorn says, and I suspect he might be feeling up my sister under the table.
“Well, I’m singing, too,” Shelby announces.
Goliath sighs. “Of course.”
“I’m very talented.”
Though he says nothing, his smile makes her laugh.
On the stage, Colton and Stella prepare to sing along with one of the Huey Lewis songs my club president finds irresistible for a reason known only to him.
They bounce around to “The Heart of Rock & Roll” and belt out lyrics that sound just a little off. Mostly, Stella can’t keep pace, and Colton’s pelvic-thrust dancing isn’t helping her concentrate.
Next to me, Violet laughs so hard that she turns bright pink and leans into Shelby.
“You two will sing after us,” her mom says and winks at me.
“No,” I insist.
“Good luck with resisting,” Goliath says and downs his beer. “I plan to get wasted enough to think it’s fun.”
“I don’t need booze to enjoy time with my wife,” Jox announces, wanting to start shit with the giant.
“Let them fight,” Shelby sneers at Heidi, who looks ready to tell her man to settle down. “You’ve already got two kids. What do you care if Jox loses his junk?”
Narrowing her dark eyes, Heidi growls, “To get out of having my period for a while, I might want more kids.”
“Charming,” Savannah says and sips her cocktail. “Avery’s missing out on some lovely chitchat here.”
“Shut up about your cracked mirror image,” Heidi mutters.
Before Bjorn can pipe up, Violet pats his hand. “Let them fight.”
I smile at how buzzed my woman is after only one cocktail. I wonder what’s in that drink.
“Our turn!” Shelby cries and jumps up.
“Watch your stitches,” Goliath warns when she pulls him to his feet. “You’re so close to getting the green light.”
“My man is horny!” Shelby announces, sending Violet into booze-induced giggles.
Soon, I’m forced to listen to Shelby belt out Robert Palmer’s “Irresistible” while Goliath mumbles words that are not in the song.
“Can he not read?” Savannah asks me.
“Hey, he knows words,” Violet hisses in a slurred voice. “The ones that matter, anyway.”
“Oh, that’s right, he’s your surrogate daddy. Sorry for the offense, sweetie.”
Violet snarls at Savannah, and our group bursts into laughter. Shelby thinks we’re laughing at her and threatens to throw a bottle. Violet jumps up and cheers her on.
“Skinny chicks can’t hold their liquor,” Heidi tells me.
I don’t react, which makes her squint menacingly. I still refuse to show any emotion, so she gives up.
“You won that, buddy,” Colton says and claps when Shelby adds ass-shaking to her performance.
“Does the machine not have music written after I was born?” Violet asks Heidi.
“I don’t work here,” the brunette grumbles again. “Seriously, stop asking me questions.”
“Did you pick the color scheme?” Savannah asks immediately.
“Watch it, Doublemint Bitch.”
Savannah flashes her winning good girl smile, but she’s perfectly capable of throwing down with Heidi. Both women love their girly dresses and heels. Yet, they’re also prone to catfights. They just prefer to look stylish while stirring up shit.
“Our turn,” Savannah tells Bjorn, who smiles and moves like a happy Labrador with his favorite person.
“Of course,” Heidi sighs when “Easy Lover” by Phil Collins begins playing. “It’s probably the worst song on the playlist.”
“You should add ABBA to the options, then,” Violet says, and Heidi considers reminding everyone—again—how she doesn’t manage the bar.
“Yeah,” Shelby says, now sitting in Dean’s lap. “Add some danceable shit, too. Like where’s Salt-n-Pepa?”
“We’re going next,” Violet announces to me while Heidi struggles with her temper. “I don’t care what song.”
“No,” I say, wishing to bail on this crap.
Leaning closer, she whispers conspiratorially, “These couples are showing us up, Mav. We need to get in the game.”
“No.”
“You can just stand next to me while I sing.”
“I will not dance.”
“He really won’t,” Shelby says and nods at her daughter. “Even for booty, he won’t get his groove on.”
Goliath snorts. “Even I’ll dance for booty.”
“I know you will,” Shelby says before kissing Goliath so deeply I worry we might be in store for a public sex ed lesson.
Soon, I’m forced to follow a tipsy Violet from our table. When Colton and Stella first came to the stage, the other patrons laughed and whispered comments. By the time I’m up there, they’ve lost interest. Violet looks through the songs before frowning at me.
“I don’t know this music. The only songs I’ve heard before are ‘99 Red Balloons’ and ‘Think I’m in Love.’ So, would you like to hear me manage the German language?”
“Go with Eddie Money.”
A pink-cheeked-and-sweaty Violet starts bouncing before the song even begins. I don’t move a muscle to the music, but my hand does slide down her back and rest just above her sweet swaying ass.
Shelby stops sucking on Goliath long enough to jump up and clap along with the song Violet mostly yells. My woman only has two song modes—whisper or scream. She uses one for the kids and the other whenever Shelby eggs her on.
Colton and Stella start clapping. Savannah realizes this annoys Heidi, so she and Bjorn follow suit. Jox doesn’t understand what’s happening and claps like a rhythm-less seal.
Meanwhile, I refuse to dance. Hell, I won’t even offer a head nod. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy the show Violet puts on. With her wild dancing, I worry she’ll fall off the stage. Mercifully, the song ends, and I can maneuver her back to the table.
“Fuck it,” Heidi mutters, annoyed at everyone. “Come on, Jox.”
Her musclehead husband chooses “Don’t Change” by INXS, and they sing as if in front of a crowd of thousands.
“He’s getting lucky tonight,” Colton announces, and Goliath nods.
“I’m fairly
certain everyone at this table is getting lucky tonight,” Violet says while eating a fist full of peanuts.
Shelby sighs wistfully. “My baby girl is growing up.”
Sliding my arm around Violet’s shoulders, I inhale her peach scent and admire her sweaty cheeks. I bet the rest of her body is damp, too. Unlike River, who seems to walk around with a permanent boner, I demand my dick behave when we’re in public. Tonight, the damn thing refuses to obey.
Fortunately, based on the relaxed grin Violet offers me, we’ll be naked within an hour. Of course, we also have babysitting duty again tonight, so a fuck-a-thon in front of the mirror isn’t in the cards. But a quickie with Violet is better than an hour-long fuckfest with anyone else.
THE CHAPTER WHERE THE STORY ENDS
THE GHOST
After getting wasted on a single hardcore vodka cocktail before sobering up enough to watch Kirby and Caen, I wake on Sunday feeling as if I can handle being a mom. Of course, the ghosts tell me otherwise while I feed Caen. After all, why should I have children when they can’t? One woman called for her son during her hell in the basement. She never got to see him again, meaning I should never have a chance to create a child of my own.
Despite their words cutting deep, I’m mostly able to ignore the ghosts in my head and instead focus on the people actually in the room.
Maverick is less rattled on his second night of babysitting duty. Especially when Caen and Kirby wake up screaming together. Sure, they calm down within minutes, but a lesser man awoken from a deep sleep would have lost his shit. Or, at least, looked for an excuse to hide in the bathroom. Instead, he held Caen while I cuddled with Kirby. Maverick and I smile at each other when the kids crash soon afterward.
“We’re babysitting ninjas,” I tell him as we wrap ourselves together under the blankets and imagine a time when we can fool around freely.
I’m admittedly bummed about Shelby, Dean, and the kids leaving today. Yet, I don’t see myself going bananas like I did after Raven and Vaughn returned to Ellsberg. I’m learning to bounce back faster from my down moments.
“Po-po alert!” Avery texts while Maverick and I are upstairs before lunch. “In the lobby. Looking for Violet. Shelby is being Shelby.”