by Mara McBain
John Merrick pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the pounding in his skull to cease. His other hand shook as he tried to pour a glass of bourbon, making him slosh the expensive liquor. The drive home had done nothing to cool his temper. Grinding his teeth he stared into the mirror above the bar. Fury made the vein in his forehead throb grotesquely. He closed his eyes to the outward sign of his slipping control. A feral growl of frustration sounded in his throat.
Downing his drink, he luxuriated in the burn. A humorless chuckle escaped his lips and he shook his head. In the elation of finding out Katrina had delivered a healthy Merrick boy, he had forgotten about Croston. The filthy lowlife still posed a problem. He’d underestimated the hold the biker had on Katrina. As disgusted as he’d been fifteen years ago to find her shacked up with the hoodlum, he’d figured it was just a matter of time before his little girl came crawling home. That hadn’t happened. Now he would have to take care of the problem.
Pouring another drink, John settled into his leather office chair. He’d hardly blinked six months ago when a Cleveland Internal Affairs officer had come around asking questions about his son-in-law. He grimaced at the term. It had only been a matter of time before someone connected the dots. On the other hand, the news that Katrina was pregnant had been a surprise. Once he’d shared a little family history with the officer, he’d been more than willing to share what information the police had on Katrina, Croston, and the Lords of Mayhem Motorcycle Club. It seemed Croston and his friends had made some enemies over the years.
After the officer had left, he’d put his own guy to work looking into things. Pouring over the pictures and reports the investigator had provided him, John had been sickened by what his daughter had become. He’d always made sure she’d had the finest of everything. Now Katrina had submersed herself in her husband’s biker subculture. With a wardrobe of ratty denim and leather she looked hard, little better than a street walker. At least tonight, in the innocence of sleep, she’d been his beautiful little girl again.
Seeing her like that had brought the past flooding back. His head lolled against the top of the chair as images flashed behind closed lids. Grown now, the similarities between mother and daughter were even more pronounced. She was the mirror image of Kassandra. When he’d lost his wife he’d thought he’d go out of his mind. Grieving had been a long battle for both of them. Katrina had been the only thing to keep him sane. He had clung to her. When she’d lashed out in anger and distrust it had nearly brought him to his knees. He’d tried reasoning with her but she was stubborn and headstrong even at twelve. She’d refused to believe that her mother had deserted them. The bitch’s whispered lies had turned his princess against him. One last “fuck you” in the rearview mirror.
With time, and a lot of counseling for Katrina, he’d thought they’d made it past it. As much as mother and daughter were alike, their daughter had a strength that had been lacking in Kassandra. His lips curled into a wry smile; perhaps there was a little of him in Katrina as well. Either way, she was a passionate woman in need of a strong hand and he’d given her that. Then, at eighteen, she’d run again. That time, her age and Croston’s interference had prevented him from giving her the help she needed.
Thinking about it, his grip tightened on the cut-crystal glass in his hand. The surge of joy and rage that had welled up in him at seeing them again still burned hot. He couldn’t fathom her attraction to that disfigured side show freak. The thought that she’d been married to that animal for fifteen years made him nauseas. He ground his teeth. How could she bear to have his filthy hands on her? The monster had despoiled his little angel. The marked bastard was going to pay. It was past due. Pride had gotten the best of him fifteen years ago. He’d been more than patient. No matter what it took this time, he would bring his little girl home where she belonged.
Five
The drive and sidewalk had been shoveled clean when they pulled in. He’d have to thank his brothers. Parking the Navigator in the garage, Crux hurried around the vehicle to open the passenger door. He was worried about Kat. Dark circles cupped her anxious eyes. He bit his tongue, not sure what to say. She’d been this way since her father’s visit. Nothing he said made a difference. He wanted, needed, the feisty woman who was always ready to fight at his side. This quiet, sullen shell of that woman was just not cutting it for him.
She pressed close as he opened the back to unfasten the baby seat. Her anxiety rubbed him the wrong way. Didn’t she trust him? Shouldering the diaper bag full of goodies from the hospital, along with Kat’s overnight bag, he hooked the carrier over his forearm and wrapped the other arm around Kat to escort her inside.
The rich smell of beef hit them as soon as they opened the door. Flowers and balloons littered the kitchen and a large Crock-Pot held a roast with all the fixings. It looked like he needed to thank his brother’s old ladies as well. Glancing into the living room, a portable crib was set up next to the end of the sectional. The nearby end table was stocked with baby paraphernalia and the couch held a nest of pillows and blankets for mom.
“They’re the best,” Kat murmured, fingering the multi-colored ribbons trailing from a balloon bouquet as she sank teary eyed onto the couch.
“They’re great, but it’s nothing you wouldn’t, or haven’t, done for them.”
“Why do you have to be so growly? They were trying to help, to be nice. Show a little appreciation.”
He blinked at his wife, a scowl darkening his face.
“Watch your fucking tone,” he growled.
“I didn’t know that I had a tone,” she snapped back, unfolding her blanket with a flip that flicked at the end of Crux’s nose.
His eyes flared before narrowing to seething slits. A low growl rumbled from his chest.
“What in the fuck is your problem?”
“I was just saying that it was nice of Gin and the girls to take care of everything so when we came home we had no worries. Is that so bad?”
“And I agreed with you.”
“Not without pointing out that I’ve done it for other people. Is that what you think it’s about? Is everything tit-for-tat with you guys?”
Crux forced his fingers to relax as his hands tried to ball into fists. It wasn’t her words. Her snotty-ass tone of voice was grating on his nerves making him want to slap the taste right out of her mouth.
“I know you’re tired and stressed out, but you need to lose the snippy voice. That’s not going to fly with me and you know it.”
He saw her swallow hard, obviously his displeasure finally getting through to her.
“I’m sorry.”
“And I was planning on thanking them all. I was just pointing out that it’s good to have a family where everyone looks out for each other.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Something else bothering you?”
Kat slumped back on the couch.
“I’m tired. I didn’t sleep well at the hospital. I’m just glad to be home.”
Crux nodded, but watched her face as she fussed over settling the baby. It was more than just fatigue. He didn’t know if it was some kind of post-partum bullshit or if the visit from her father had spooked her more than she would admit. He reached over and opened the drawer in the end table. The snub-nosed .38 he’d bought for her was nestled there among miscellaneous clutter. She looked at it, teeth sinking into her lower lip.
“Do you think he’ll show up here?”
Crux shrugged. He hadn’t thought the asshole would show up at the hospital. How had he known they were there? Kat hadn’t had any contact with her father in years. Daddy sure as hell hadn’t approved of him and when he’d found out what kind of sick fuck her father and uncle were, he’d wanted to kill them both. It had taken a whole lot of talking, and a bit of bribing, to get him to agree not to go after them. He had news for his wife. If that fuck was trying to wheedle his way back into her life, all deals were off.
“So you do?” Kat asked, interrupting his t
houghts.
“I suggest we go under the assumption that your father is as stupid as he is twisted and be ready for him.”
“Why after all these years?”
“Who knows what goes through that entitled, sick-ass mother fucker’s mind? If he wants to drop dead tomorrow, and leave Cam all his money, great. Otherwise, he’s not going to have anything to do with our son.”
“I don’t want a dime from him. You know that.”
“I’m more interested in knowing how he knew we were at the hospital.”
Blood drained from Kat’s face and if she hadn’t been sitting down, he’d have been worried she’d pass out.
“How did he know that?” she whispered, eyes darting nervously around the living room.
“I don’t know, baby,” Crux answered, rubbing the back of his neck, worry creasing his forehead. “But I’m going to do everything I can to find out.”
Lighting up a cigarette, Crux levered himself up to sit on the tool bench in his garage. His green eyes narrowed on the driveway as he drew the nicotine deep into his lungs. He spun his cell phone on the bench beside him, mirroring the troubled whirl of his mind. John Merrick was a wealthy, connected, sadistic prick; but how had he known Kat was pregnant, let alone known so quickly that she was in the hospital? What was the bastard’s game? He had to know they wouldn’t willingly allow him anywhere near their child. There had been a glint in the man’s cold eyes as he looked at Camden. Crux didn’t trust the bastard.
He sighed and picked up his phone. There was no way around it. He couldn’t leave Kat and his son alone right now. Blowing out a plume of smoke, he hit Bowie’s number.
“Hey, Crux, how are Mama and the little man?”
“They’re home and comfortable. I appreciate whoever cleared the drive and shit. Thank the girls too. When Kat got inside and found out she didn’t have to eat my cooking, she wept with joy.”
Bowie’s deep chuckle rumbled on the other end of the phone. Crux took another drag on his cigarette and pinched the bridge of his nose before forcing the words past his lips.
“I need a favor.”
“Name it, brother.”
“I need at least another couple of days off. Some shit came up at the hospital with Kat’s father and she’s on edge. I don’t want to leave her alone like this.”
He could practically hear Big Red’s high forehead wrinkle and picture the purse of his lips as he mulled over the situation. Though he knew the answer, Crux still breathed a little sigh of relief when his boss spoke.
“That’s not a problem. You have plenty of vacation time available if you want to use it. Is there anything else I can do? Anything the club can do?”
“Vacation time would be great. Sorry for the short notice.”
“Yeah, nine months isn’t much notice,” Bowie drawled.
Crux smiled and took a long drag on his cigarette.
“I’ve got to figure out how this fuck is keeping tabs on us. He knew we were at the hospital. We haven’t even spoken to the prick in fifteen years. Does he have someone watching us?”
“Does Kat have contact with anyone from her past?”
“Nah, her nanny was the only one she talked to after she came to Trinity Falls, and she died around the time Kat and I got married.”
“It was just too much for her, huh?”
“Fuck you,” Crux growled with a grin.
“I’ll let the others know what’s going on and we’ll keep our eyes and ears open, brother.”
“Thanks, man. Kat’s not going to like it, but if this fucker continues to mess with my family, all deals are off.”
“Understood,” Bowie murmured in his sonorous baritone. “We’re with you, whatever you need.”
Kat chewed on her lip as she watched her husband prowl around the house. He’d checked every window and door before inventorying the contents of his gun cabinet and now he was back to the windows. His pacing was only adding to her fear.
“I’d feel a lot better if you would at least tell me what’s going through your mind,” she said softly.
He shook his head and came over to sink down on the couch beside her with a sigh.
“It pisses me off that he knows a damn thing about you, and for him to think he can waltz into the hospital and claim any type of kinship with our kid makes me wish I’d killed the son-of-a-bitch a long time ago.”
“So that’s why you’ve been caressing your arsenal?”
He chuckled, looking a little sheepish.
“A man can fantasize can’t he?”
“Your wife gave birth less than 48 hours ago. You can’t do much more than fantasize,” Kat answered with a grin.
“You’d be surprised what I can do.”
“I always am,” Kat admitted, giggling at his lecherous leer and cuddling into his arms.
The worn cotton of his t-shirt was soft under her cheek. Her eyes closed in exhausted contentment as he rubbed a slow circle on her back. When he spoke the words vibrated through her.
“I’ll protect my family.”
“I know,” she whispered back.
“Then why are you so spooked?”
Kat rubbed her nose against the soft material and really thought about that question. The last year had been a wicked roller coaster ride with more bad then good for their extended family. How many times had she stood helplessly by one of her friends, unable to offer more than a comforting drink or a squeeze of the hand? Both were woefully inadequate in the face of horrors like fire, rape or the nightmare of sitting covered in your man’s blood in a hospital waiting to hear if he will make it.
Her pregnancy had been one of the few positive things to come out of the last year and now her father’s reemergence was threatening that happiness. That her father even knew about Cam seemed like a dark cloud over the little boy’s head. She didn’t want the stains of her past marking her son. Trinity Falls was full of skeletons and secrets and neither liked to stay buried.
“So much shit has gone on lately, everything with Zeke and Gin, then with Mox and Eva, Reaper getting shot…” she said into his chest. “I just wanted Cam’s birth to be a fresh start for everyone. Instead, it just feels like the beginning of another nightmare. When does it stop? How many more people have to be hurt before we’re allowed to live in peace?”
“Your father isn’t a mobster. He’s not going to start gunning people down in the streets. He’s a sadistic fuck that preys on those smaller and weaker than he is. I’m neither. Let him flaunt his money and flap his gums. We don’t need his money. I can take care of my family. As much as you aren’t going to like this, when Cam is old enough, I will tell him about the asshole. I want him to know from me, from us, what kind of monster the man is, so when he hits his adult years John can’t bribe his way into his life. As sick as it is, forewarned is forearmed. Until then, it falls on us to make good decisions for him. No matter what he does or says, Kat, he can’t hurt us if we don’t let him in. If he calls, hang up. If he is stupid enough to show up here when I’m not home, don’t answer the door. Call the cops. Call me. We just need to be smart about this, baby. When he realizes that we aren’t going to have anything to do with him, he will crawl back under whatever rock he crawled out from under.”
Kat let him ease her back from her clench and looked up at him. His gaze burned into her. His expression was fierce, and sexy. She smiled and nodded.
“You’re right. I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m a biker bitch and I don’t have to deal with him.”
“You’re my biker bitch,” Crux said with a little chuckle as he leaned forward to press his forehead to hers. “And that’s our little one. We’re going to protect that rug rat and give him the type of childhood neither of us had. Trust me.”
Leaning against the back door, Kat watched her man climb into his truck. She knew he was uncomfortable in a vehicle, but it seemed Cam’s arrival had made him think. She smiled as he tossed his hand up to her as he rolled out. Slipping back inside, she locked
the door behind her. The last four days had been great. They’d had a few visitors to see the newest family member, but for the most part it had just been the three of them.
She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of watching Crux hold their son. He’d been a little unsure at first, but once he’d realized his son wasn’t going to break, he’d relaxed a little. It was a beautiful sight to see Crux’s weathered, grease stained hand cradling Cam’s head and stroking his thick dark hair. Retrieving her coffee mug from the living room, she peeked into the Pack N’ Play beside the couch. Cam was sleeping peacefully.
They were blessed. He was a good sleeper so far. Crux had gotten after her for “bothering the baby” because she’d checked on him so many times in the night to make sure he was breathing. Daddy hadn’t been overjoyed to have the basinet set up in the corner of the master bedroom either. He had emphasized the master part of the room designation before giving in with a grumble to her promises that it would only be for the first couple of weeks…maybe a month. As much as she needed Cam close right now, she understood the sanctity of their bedroom and loved it as much as he did.
Hitching up her baggy fleece PJ bottoms, she wandered into the kitchen. The remains of baked nachos from a late night snack sat on the stove top and coffee grounds littered both the counter and floor. She grimaced. Her husband was not a clean freak. While that was nice when it came to his expectations of her and the house, it also meant that if she didn’t do it, it wasn’t likely to get done. Wrapping the nacho remains in the aluminum foil on the cookie sheet, she pitched them with a shrug. He had a lot of other great qualities.
It didn’t take long to wash up the dishes and wipe down the counter. Putting some water on to boil, she swept the floor and pitched her gritty slipper socks in the laundry. As sore as she still was, climbing the stairs to grab a clean pair didn’t sound pleasant, so she settled for a pair of Crux’s white tube socks from a basket of clean clothes. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of a vehicle in the drive. It was early. Hurrying to the front window, she peered between the slats.