by V. Theia
Butcher: Cookie, I’m outside.
He saw a light pop on and then his head reared up when she came around the back of the house with a fast walk-jog and didn’t stop until she reached him.
Fuck him. She was dressed in little bed shorts and an oversized sweater.
He wanted to watch her prance around in his clothes. Just another small thing they’d missed out on. But he couldn’t stop the smile edging up one side of his mouth.
“How’s Tag doing?” She asked immediately. Arms around her waist like she didn’t know whether to come to him or not.
“They had to do surgery on his cheek.”
They’d only know about his eyesight once some of the swelling went down and they could check his pupils response. They hoped for a fucking miracle at this point.
“He looked awful. I’m glad he’ll be okay. We had to leave … or I would have come over.”
“I know, baby. We had to shut it down fast. Did someone bring you home?”
She grimaced and he knew it was Reno. Fucker.
“You look tired, you should have gone home.”
For a couple who’d been fucking for years, this small talk was new to both of them. Strange but it was all he’d ever wanted. To know the shitty little details of her day.
“Wanted to see you.”
Her face split into a grin, but it was short lived when the roar of motorcycles turned the street corner. Butcher cranked his head around to see Axel approaching with someone with him. Reno. Fucking Reno. Did the guy live here now?
“Shit,” he heard Roux say and Butcher braced his feet on the road.
“What the fuck are you doing here with my daughter?” The anger from Axel blasted when he kicked the stand of his bike and swung his leg over, striding toward Butcher.
Reno the dickface followed.
“Calm down, you’ll wake the neighbors.” Roux tried. Axel ignored her.
“Asked you a fucking question.”
“Stopped by to borrow a cup of sugar. Do people still do that? Wasn’t sure.”
Roux giggled and he sent her a wink.
“Get inside.” Axel told his daughter who didn’t move an inch. “I said get the fuck inside, I won’t tell you again.”
This put fire in Butcher’s gut.
He didn’t want to get into a brawl.
Nor get shot or start a war.
But talking to Roux in that fucking tone he wouldn’t deal very well with.
“How about you don’t talk to her like she’s a fucking dog, yeah?”
“Dad, it’s fine. I asked Tad to come by to let me know how Tag was. Please don’t start shit tonight, he hasn’t done anything that I didn’t ask of him.”
In that moment he knew what side she was choosing.
She was choosing him.
It was all the sign he needed.
Thank fucking God.
Axel growled but said nothing other than to stare bullets at Butcher’s head.
He knew protective fathers—was buddies with some of them. He hoped to feel that one day, he would if he got his way.
Butcher deserved the beating years ago. Whether he was culpable or not, a father protected his baby daughter when a grown man was sniffing around her, he did what he had to.
Butcher didn’t hold that shit against Axel.
He would have understood him hating Butcher and protecting her from getting with a biker if he hadn’t all but handed her off to one of his own men.
Fucking hypocrite.
Rival clubs would always feel a betrayal if one of their women wanted someone from the other side.
It was as old as time.
But this wasn’t the Caplet’s versus Montague’s, the twenty-first century version with bells, whistles and pissed off biker dads. And he wasn’t about to gulp back poison, not when he pictured a long life ahead with Roux.
“Take her inside.” The order directed to Reno and the other man who’d been quiet as a fucking daisy until now moved around Axel and towered over Roux.
His girl scowled dark enough to make wolves howl and Butcher chuckled to himself. God, that look of hers made him horny. Telling Axel that would piss off the man, so he chose not to antagonize the bear.
“I’m going inside because it’s cold and I’m tired, but I’ll tell you, dad, I can’t wait to move out if this is how you treat me.” She turned her icy glare to Butcher and softened. “Give my well wishes to Tag. See you, Tad.”
He half smiled. She was so sweet under all that sour. He couldn’t wait to slurp her up. “Hey, Roux?” She pivoted even though the asshole was still towering over her like he thought Roux might take flight any second now. “Remember what I said?”
She started to smile. “Brace?”
“Yeah. Sleep good, Cookie.”
He watched her quick stride all the way back to the house. That little ass calling his attention, her long hair his fingers wanted to stroke through. He didn’t look away until she disappeared inside. Taking their fate with her.
“You’ve got some fucking balls coming to my house.” Hissed Axel, staring hard with eyes like vicious bullets.
If he was going for intimidation he was shit out of luck.
“I can’t call you old man, ‘cause you’re what, six years older than me?” Butcher chuckled. Hey, that could be the reason for his animosity, who the fuck knew. Would a dad want his daughter hooking up with a man the same age as him? Butcher dismissed it. Irrelevant. Axel shouldn’t have been a dirty dog and knocked someone up in his teens. “Say what you have to say, it won’t change anything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Roux wants me. Not this sham you’ve set up with Reno.”
“You really are stupid. I didn’t beat the hell out of you enough it seems.”
“Is that all you’ve got, Axel? Threats mean nothing to me. Roux does. And if you gave a crap about her, you’d start listening and see she can make her own decisions. Even if you disagree with them.”
“Stay away from my house and my daughter. I see you here again, you’ll get worse than Tag did.”
Butcher let the threat roll off his back, he was too tired to care.
“I gotta know, is it me personally or me being a Souls you have a problem with?”
A tick worked Axel’s jaw, looking like he wanted to kill him.
Ah, so no invite to Sunday cookout just yet, gotcha.
“You’re not good enough for her.”
“I think I am. Actually, I know I am. That little pissant in there couldn’t even begin to know how to handle Roux’s fire, she’d burn the fucker up. Me? Flame retardant.”
“Throwing jokes around ain’t gonna get you what you want. So, if you’re coming around now after all these years in hopes…”
“I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Just coming around now. You thought beating me up until I was almost dead would make me stay away from her. Yeah, it did for a while. Even I have fucking morals, she was seventeen. But I was never gone, Axel. As I said, she wants me. And what Roux wants, Roux gets. I’ll make sure of it.”
“You really do have a death wish.”
Butcher grinned. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. This guy fucked him off no end.
“Stay the hell away, you listening? My daughter doesn’t want me to kill you, but I’ll do it in front of her, I’ll break her heart if it’s the only way to keep her safe.”
Butcher blinked.
What the fuck.
“What did you say?”
Axel folded his arms and closed his lips.
“Keep her safe from what? From fucking what, Axel?”
“Remember what I said if you come back again. You can’t hide behind Rider forever.”
“I don’t hide behind anyone. I’m right here. You wanna shoot me? Go ahead.”
The man hissed and turned on his heel to walk away.
“If you’ve got yourself in some shit and it touches Roux in any way, Axel, it’ll be
me who comes looking for you. Believe it. Fair fucking warning.”
Now he had more to worry about other than getting his girl.
Protecting her from whatever shady shit Axel was caught up in was priority.
FIFTEEN
“Now she was a real Diablos.” - Roux
Roux left the house that morning before Axel was awake.
Intent on avoiding him much the same way she did his pointless tirade last night.
She couldn’t take another second of him dictating her dating life. She loved him with her whole heart, and here comes the but, but he didn’t understand her at all. He saw her as a kid. Even with her birthday approaching, she was still a thing to hide away so the big bad bogeyman didn’t get her.
That kind of love was stifling her.
She wasn’t a thing to barter with.
No one gave their daughters away these days. Or at least a decent father wouldn’t, and she’d always thought Axel was the top tier of dads.
Her first stop was to get coffee. Naturally. Caffeine was her best friend on days like today. She added in a cookie too and smiled as she ate it. Every time they met at the motel; Tad would bring her a box of fresh baked cookies.
Her next stop was to meet a real estate agent. She set up a bunch of viewings on apartments. A palace wasn’t needed. She was no queen, somewhere that was all hers would be nice.
On her third apartment viewing and fourth coffee, her phone pinged and she huffed a sigh seeing an unwelcome name on the screen. She stepped out onto the balcony overlooking a strip mall.
“What?”
“Is that any way to talk to your old man?” Cackled Reno. His stupid raspy voice irritated her.
“Pigs aren’t flying, Reno, so don’t hold your breath. Actually, hold it for a long time. I’ll count how long it takes you.”
If she was hoping to piss off the sergeant at arms, she was sorely disappointed because he laughed again. “Fuck, you’re so feisty. Where you at, princess? Wanna take you for lunch.”
Her belly grumbled. She was hungry. But encouraging Reno by getting food with him, which she’d done a million times in the past, was not on her to-do list.
“Is Ruin with you?”
“Nah, he’s sleeping off a hangover.”
“Ah, too bad, I’ll only eat with you if your twin is around too.”
He laughed. “I know you’re joking, princess, but I’ll drag him out of bed no problem.”
“Don’t.” she blurted. “He’ll be in a shit mood.” But how would they tell the difference between his regular mood? “Anyway, I have to go. I’m busy.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Harvesting souls for my satanic ritual tonight.”
“That’s sexy.”
Roux rolled her eyes. The biker needed to give up his weed habit if he wasn’t picking up on her sarcasm.
“Miss. Tucker.” She heard behind her and the agent was in the doorway, smiling. “I’m sorry, but I have another appointment.” Roux nodded her apology.
“Who is that?” Asked Reno.
“None of your business. I have to go.”
“You can’t run for long, princess. Don’t make me find your ass.”
“I told you already, it’s not my fault if you and my father are deaf. Bye.”
The apartment in a quiet gated community suited her. She liked that it had a first floor balcony. The kitchen was small but she could deal with that because the shower and bathroom was more than enough for her. The one bedroom was a decent size for her queen size bed and other shit.
Pending a credit check—thank you three credit cards and car payment to help with that—she wanted to sign for the apartment. Because she’d only ever worked at length for her dad, and that was never in a legal capacity, she doubted he’d give her a reference if she needed it. She’d ask Tad to fabricate something for her.
With a pep in her step, she avoided the clubhouse and home for the rest of the day until it was time for a change of clothes. There was a sweet card game in Fort Springs she didn’t want to miss.
It was a heavy game and the buy in of 2 grand was steep. She hated to lose money, but if she won tonight, she’d have twenty times that.
The guy on the door looked her up and down.
The smell of warm bread met her nose.
The game was held in the back of a bakery.
She didn’t care about the location other than the smell of bread made her hungry and she popped a mint into her mouth. “Gonna let me in, big guy?”
The bruiser looked like an extra from a Guy Ritchie movie, the ones that get shot in the face. Missing a front tooth, his left eye was glass. She knew what he saw when he eye-fucked her. Probably thought she was a dumb kid with weird piercings and stupid make-up. She’d worn her blue skinny jeans, her one pair of decent stilettos with the red sole and a white cotton jacket.
“The local college is that way.” He gruffed.
Refraining from rolling her eyes. She got it all the time, why would today be different. It’s not like she could sweep the floor with this guy at any Blackjack table or anything like that.
She smiled and gave him the invite only password. “Sugar-tits.”
He didn’t miss a step when he opened the metal door for her. “Have fun.”
“Oh, I intend to, big guy. See you in a while.”
Receiving the same kind of curious glances, Roux took her seat around the one single table. The eleven chairs already filled. Some of the faces she recognized from other games. The rest were new to her. They dismissed Roux with barely a superficial glance. Her youth played as a pro when no one assumed she could play the game.
There was only one other woman there. Thirty-something Verónica Garcia Ruiz. And it was her who worried Roux. The cartel wife was good at cards. She sent the woman dressed in red a half smile and Verónica returned it, raising her glass of wine.
Drinks were served by two waitresses. Chips handed out.
Roux checked her phone one last time before she turned it to Do Not Disturb. Smiling seeing a message from Tad.
Her heart flipped over languidly in her chest.
Butcher: Thinking of you, Cookie.
Roux: Me too. X
The table got going and for the next four hours, Roux focused on nothing else other than her cards and discovering the tells of the people around her.
She dismissed six of the players as men with too much money and not enough skill. She’d be happy to take it from them.
She won a few and lost a few. As was her way. It was unwise to go into any table game too cocky. She acted like the girl she was, she fumbled and dropped her cards, she faked her tells.
And when it was time to win, she went in for the kill.
Sharing a glance with the cartel wife, Roux tossed her bet into the middle. The two of them were about even for wins but if Verónica Garcia Ruiz thought she could intimidate with her husband’s reputation; she was out of luck.
One by one the table grew shorter, bodies dropping out.
The adrenaline flowed through Roux. She was so fucking juiced; she tasted the next win as she glanced at her cards without a facial tick and placed them face down. She hit the table with a finger to the dealer and he slid a card over.
She won.
“You’re having quite the good streak, niña.”
“I could say the same for you.”
“Rico, bring our friend a fresh drink.” She called over to her bodyguard.
“I’m fine.”
“I insist.”
Roux shrugged and stacked her chips to the right of her hand. Intent on one more game and then she was going home … well not quite home.
“Tell me, niña, what is your secret, huh? You slip into a table; you clean it out and then you leave.”
“Isn’t that the point? What else would I do, tap dance?”
A male voice laughed behind her.
It was only the two of them at the table now and Roux’s spider sense was tingling like cra
zy. She could skip the last game, call it quits while she was ahead.
“I’ve been watching you for a while. You are incredibly shrewd, watching everything but saying very little.”
“I’m flattered.” Roux lied with a smile.
Never let an enemy see you sweat, was always her dad’s advice.
And the woman with the vivid red lipstick and black hair was, in a sense, an enemy. She certainly wasn’t a friend.
“I cannot tell if you’re reading cards.”
Roux slit her gaze and drummed her metallic green nails on the table.
“Only a sore loser accuses their opponent of cheating. I have no need to. I’m fucking good.”
Verónica Garcia Ruiz smiled the kind of smile you’d see on a snake right before he loosened his jaw.
“I would not like it if you were cheating at my husband’s game, niña.”
Surprise stopped Roux’s tapping. “This is your husband’s?”
Fuck. Fuck. All the fucking fucks.
“Wouldn’t you say that’s biased then you sitting here? Who’s to say you’re not cheating?”
The other woman grinned and sipped from her burgundy wine. The bodyguard hovering behind her close enough he was almost snorting her hairspray. Overkill much, dude. What was he expecting, the Navy SEALS to fly through the door?
“I do as I please.”
“Are we playing, or is this game dead?”
When the other woman stared at Roux with a secret smile on her lips, it was time to go. Roux pushed the chair back. It was a fast exchange of chips to cash and she slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket. It bulged and she wanted to get it home.
“Nice playing with you.” She said to the woman as pleasant as she could, all the while holding back a “you sour bitch”
The woman lacked in decent dick if she was getting bent out of shape over a few thousand bucks.
When she got outside it was pouring. Great. She’d parked three blocks away. Pulling her jacket up to her ears, she started the walk.
She didn’t get even a block, when she was grabbed from behind and bodily dragged into an arched alcove of closed boutiques.