“He broke into your apartment? Knocked the door down?” he asked.
“No, god damn it. The door was open, Kyle left it open. Dalton’s not some thug, Dad,” I said.
“So anyway, Dalton grabbed him, beat the shit out of him, and drug him downstairs and made him leave. He told Kyle if he ever came back, he’d give it to him again.”
I reached for my drink as I waited for his response.
He widened his eyes slightly. “And that was it?”
“Maybe you should have been there. It was enough. Dalton beat the absolute shit out of him,” I responded.
“And then what?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders as I slid my lips over the end of the straw. After sucking half of the remaining vanilla lusciousness from the cup I lowered it to my side and responded.
“He carried me to my room, held me in his arms, and I fell asleep. When I woke up the next morning, he was gone,” I responded.
“And after that time? What about the most recent time? What did Dalton do?” he asked.
“Jesus, dad. He came to get me, they fixed up my face with some butterfly stitches, cleaned me up, and they went looking for him. It’s been five days and so far, nothing,” I said as I reached for my drink.
“When was the last time they went looking, do you know?” he asked.
Back under investigation.
I swear.
“Yesterday, I think,” I said.
“Still trying to find him, huh?” he asked as he relaxed into his seat.
“Uh huh,” I nodded.
“Katrina, I’ve got some news. I don’t know how you’re going to take it, but I need to tell you. I don’t want you to hear it from anyone else but me. I want to be the one who’s here for you through this,” he said.
Oh my god. Mom’s got cancer, doesn’t she?
I bit my lower lip and nodded my head, not wanting to hear whatever he had to say, but knowing whatever it was needed to be heard.
“They found Kyle, this morning. An apparent suicide. It appears he’s been dead for five days,” he paused and inhaled a shallow breath.
I sighed heavily and the words escaped my mouth as I exhaled.
“Thank god,” I heaved.
His eyes narrowed and he looked confused.
“He’s dead, Katrina,” he said as he shook his head.
I nodded my head. I had no idea how I should have felt, but I was nothing short of relieved. Whatever feelings I had for Kyle in the past, regardless of what they were, vanished the day he beat me the way he did the last time. Now, there was nothing left. Nothing at all. With Kyle gone, I could truly begin a new life with Dalton without worry or fear of him returning someday.
“I got that. And I’m happy,” I said as I raised my cup.
He gazed at me with a look of clear confusion.
“Dalton said he wanted to adopt the baby. We found out he couldn’t without Kyle’s consent. This just makes everything easier. Dad, he was an animal. A fucking beast. He probably realized exactly what he did, regretted it, and killed himself in a drunken stupor,” I said.
“Alcohol played a part. The county investigated it, but I’ve seen the report. His toxicity was…”
I raised my hand in the air to stop him from continuing. “La la la la I don’t care.”
He shook his head and grinned. “You really don’t care, do you?”
“Nope. I want to celebrate,” I said as I stood from my chair.
“Lunch, my treat?” he asked.
“Depends,” I said as I reached for my purse.
I shifted my eyes upward as I stood. He gazed back with wide eyes, waiting for me to continue. I stared at him for a moment. He looked happier than I had seen him in some time, and I had no idea what about our mid-morning coffee would have pleased him so much.
“On?’ he eventually asked.
“You going to leave Dalton alone? Let us be?” I asked.
“Are you truly happy?” he asked.
I nodded my head. “Never been happier.”
“Is there any fear that one day he’ll harm you?” he asked.
I shook my head. “The complete opposite. He’s sweet, Dad. He really is. Not only will he never hurt me, he’ll make damned sure no one else does, either.”
He nodded his head and opened his arms. “All I want is for my little girl to be happy.”
“She is,” I said as I hugged him.
As he held me in his arms, I sighed. And, although my father didn’t raise a pussy, a tear escaped my eye and ran down my cheek.
It was the first time in my life I could remember my father holding me in his arms that I didn’t want him to let me go.
I love you, Dad.
Chapter One Hundred Forty-Nine
BISCUIT
There’s two things that will make a 1%er’s asshole pucker for sure. One is an unscheduled visit from the police, and the other is a former girlfriend showing up at his door with a baby in her belly. I’d never had a girlfriend show up pregnant, and until now, I’d never had a cop show up at my house.
“I’ve got a gun on the bench beside me, and if you come in my god damned garage I’ll drop you where you stand, Cop. Your threat didn’t settle well with me,” I said as I turned his direction and reached for my pistol.
“Katrina tells me you’re not a violent man, Dalton. I’m beginning to wonder,” he said as he continued to walk up my driveway.
“I’m not,” I said as I placed my hand against the grip of the pistol, “But you threatened to kill me. Kind of made matters personal when you did that.”
“I’m not here as a police officer. I’m here as Katrina’s father,” he said as he stopped at the edge of the garage door.
I released the grip of the pistol, wiped my hands on a rag, and turned to face him. As I crossed my arms in front of my chest and did my best to swell to twice my size, I studied his six foot six frame. Whipping him in a fist fight would be an all day job for sure.
“Sure look like a cop to me,” I said.
“I just got off duty. Got a minute to talk?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Don’t let cops in my house, sorry. Garage is part of my house. There’s nothing in here for ya. None of your god damned business what I got or what I’m doing.”
He shook his head and began to laugh. “Typical biker.”
I inhaled, flexed my biceps, and pushed my chest forward. “Typical fuckin’ cop, tryin’ to make his way into a biker’s house so he can fuck with him.”
“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way, do you care to talk about your relationship with my daughter?” he asked.
Relationship?
He seemed calm, accepting of what he was saying, and his hand didn’t hover over his pistol.
“I’ll listen to ya. But it won’t be in my house,” I lowered my arms and glanced around the garage. “And it won’t be in here, either. Hold on a minute, I guess you can sit beside the pool and talk. I’ll let you in the side gate.”
I turned toward the door, pressed the button to the garage door, and watched his body disappear as the door went down. After the door was fully closed, I stepped into the kitchen, grabbed two Red Bulls, and walked out the back door. As I opened the gate, he stood a few feet behind it, grinning from ear to ear.
“Somethin’ funny happen while I was away?” I asked as I studied him.
“Just find your protective nature humorous, I suppose,” he said.
“Downright comedic, huh?” I said as I turned away.
I pointed toward the table and chairs situated on the deck surrounding the pool. “We can sit here.”
I pulled the cans of Red Bull out of my pockets and slid one across the table. As I pulled my chair from the table and sat down, I opened the can and drank half of it in one swig. He studied the can, opened it, and raised it to his lips. Almost immediately his face contorted and he held the can at arm’s length.
“That tastes like shit. You like this stuff?” he asked
.
“Best shit ever,” I said. “So if sharin’ a Red Bull with a biker wasn’t your reason for comin’, what brings you to this part of town, Cop?”
He shook his head and grinned. “Dave. My name is Dave.”
I raised my can. “What brings you to this part of town, Dave the cop?”
He shook his head.
“Sorry, sometimes I just can’t help myself,” I said with a laugh.
“My daughter tells me you kicked the everloving shit out of that scumbag who slapped her around in her apartment?” he said.
I stood from my seat and pointed toward the gate. “Investigation’s over, Cop. I’ll lock the gate behind you.”
He stood and shook his head as he laughed a shallow laugh.
“I’m here to thank you. And to tell you I appreciate you coming to my daughter’s aid. She said your friends helped her out and doctored her up afterward. I want to express my gratitude for their assistance in the matter. She also told me you and the gentlemen you ride with have been looking for the scumbag on a daily basis. I appreciate that as well,” he said.
I relaxed, pulled out my chair, and sat down.
“Have a seat,” I said as I pointed toward his chair.
He sat, leaned over the table, and raised the can of Red Bull. After reading the label, he took another drink and shook his head.
I leaned forward, rested my forearms on the table and sighed. I shifted my gaze up to his face and held it. As he realized my focus was on him, he locked eyes with me and lowered his chin.
I widened my eyes. “I don’t ride with gentlemen. They’re my brothers. We have a brotherhood and a bond someone like you will never understand. Each and every one of those fellas would and will do whatever they must to protect her - because they’re my brothers.”
“I know a little about that. When I call for backup, I put my life in the hands of my brothers. Each and every one of them would and will do whatever they must to protect me, and to protect you, Dalton, from harm.”
He took a sip of red Bull.
I shook my head. “It’s not the same.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Change the subject,” I said.
He leaned back in his chair, inhaled a deep breath, and cleared his throat. “So, she tells me you’d like to adopt the baby?”
I nodded my head. Talking to him about it seemed much different than talking to Kat. Somewhat uncomfortable, and not necessarily wanting to get into an argument with him about anything, I decided to minimize my speaking and keep things simple.
“That’s right,” I responded.
“Do you love her?’ he asked.
I leaned back in the chair and stared beyond him with unfocused eyes. Love was something I wasn’t even sure existed. I’d never been in love, and I had my doubts, other than Kat, if anyone had truly ever loved me, short of the love my brothers in the club had for me. After a long minute of thinking, I focused my eyes on him and began to explain my thoughts.
“Don’t know that I even know what love is for sure. A feelin’, I suppose. Not knowin’, it’s hard to say. I can tell ya this for sure. When your daughter’s with me, I feel like my life is kinda perfect for the first time. When she’s gone, like when she went back to Kyle, life ain’t much worth livin’. Never felt that way about anything before. You know, she came back, and everything that was broke immediately was fixed. I ain’t gonna shit ya, Dave. I’ve been with my share of women, and I ain’t never had one make me feel like Kat. So, maybe it’s love. But whatever it is, I’d like to make a commitment to her, and I suppose to you…” I lowered the can and leaned forward.
“I want that baby to see me as it’s father, and know nothing different. We can raise that kid up never knowing any different. Kid deserves that.”
He shifted his eyes from the can in front of him toward me and nodded his head.
“What is it you do for a living?” he asked.
“Off the record?” I asked.
He nodded his head.
“Murder for hire,” I said flatly.
He nodded his head again. “Comedian?”
“According to some,” I grinned.
I shook my head and leaned forward, resting my arms on the edge of the table.
“I build high performance Harley motors. Between you and me, I make a hundred grand a year. House is paid for, bike too. I claim about forty to help on taxes, it’s an all cash business. I do pretty well. Save most of it,” I said.
He studied the can for a moment and eventually shifted his eyes to meet mine.
“They found that kid. Kyle. Found him this morning,” he said as he stood.
“Got him in custody?” I asked as I stood from my seat.
He shook his head. “Suicide. Been dead four or five days.”
“Damned shame,” I said flatly.
He gazed down at his feet and continued.
“Sure is. You know, the county investigated it. Ruled it a clear case of suicide. Kid used his personal pistol, shot himself in the face. He used a pillow for some reason, I personally found that strange, but anyway,” he said as he shook his head slightly.
“You know another thing I found strange?” he asked.
I shook my head and shrugged. “No idea.”
“I’ve known that kid for three years. He was left handed. The residue from the weapon discharging was on his right hand, and the pistol was still in his right hand. So I thought, why would this kid use his right hand to kill himself - if he was a natural leftie?” he asked.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I didn’t bother telling the officer in charge what I knew. I just couldn’t see any sense in it. God has his way of weeding out the bad on this earth, you know. Sometimes it’s at the hand of a cop,” he said as he locked eyes with me. “And sometimes it’s not.”
“Investigation’s over?” I asked.
He nodded his head. “Closed case.”
“And you’re alright with Kat and me? Me adopting the baby?” I asked.
“I’ve accepted it. She says you’re good for her. She loves you, you need to know that, Dalton,” he responded.
I tilted my head toward the back door.
“Come in for a bit, Dave?” I asked.
He glanced toward the door, turned to face me, and smiled.
“I’d love to,” he responded.
“Follow me,” I said as I turned toward the door. “We need to have us a little talk.”
As I walked toward the door I realized he and I were similar in at least a few respects. No differently than he had a preconceived notion about me being a dirty biker, I had the same about him being a chicken-shit cop. In the end, all he was trying to do was the same thing I had tried to do.
Keep Kat from being harmed.
Together, if we could see eye to eye, there was no doubt in my mind that Kat could live a life not only safe from harm, but as a very, very happy woman.
And I’d be a very happy man.
Chapter One Hundred Fifty
BISCUIT
After painting our bedroom Fair Fieldstone Taupe, I painted the spare bedroom a combination of light blue and pink. Two opposing walls were pink, and the opposite two walls were light blue. For now, the color combination satisfied me, and would be satisfactory regardless of the sex of the baby.
I stood in the doorway, admired the new colors, and studied the trim for imperfections. As always, I found nothing that needed touched up. My anal retentive nature prevented me from walking away from a job that wasn’t perfect.
I sighed, inhaled the odor of the drying paint, and looked into the living room at the boxes of new furniture I’d purchased - a crib, changing table, and dresser, all in need of assembly. I glanced at my watch. It would take some hard work, but having it assembled and in place by the time Kat got back from shopping should be doable. A quick shower on my part afterward, and we should make Cash’s patch in party without any problems.
It was nice to see Kat and Avery
becoming close friends. Sydney was attached to Avery’s hip, so there was no doubt they’d all become close. There wasn’t much better women on this earth than those two, and as tough as Avery was, I wasn’t so sure Sydney wasn’t a little tougher. Making it out of her childhood with the peaceful, upbeat, and always eager attitude was a feat in itself, and left me impressed with who she was and what she stood for.
Having a little of her rub off on Kat would suit me just fine.
I closed the door to the bedroom and allowed the room to vent out into the yard through the open windows. After cleaning up the paint supplies, I knelt down on the floor and began to assemble the furniture.
Three and a half hours later, I cleaned up the mess, carried the furniture into the room, and moved it into place. I glanced around the room at the changes. A year prior, if someone would have brought up a baby being in my life, I would have laughed until I pissed myself. Now, looking around the room at the furniture and bright colors, I was excited, eager, and more than willing for the change.
The reward, at least in my mind, was my knowing there wasn’t another man on this earth who was going to be as devoted to raising the child properly as me. A man has one chance to do what’s right in his being a father, and there’s no room for mistakes. As inexperienced as I was at being a father, I had years of exposure and a complete understanding of what not to do.
I’m sure a man accepting another man’s child or children as his own is a far more difficult task than accepting his own children. In my current state of being, I was incapable of producing children, and as far as I was concerned, the baby wasn’t another man’s child.
The child was mine.
I had come to accept that what I shared with Kat could be nothing short of love, and if she and I loved one another - and I wasn’t able to produce children - God had done what he felt was necessary.
His provision of a child wasn’t something I perceived as being a mistake, burden, or complication.
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