“Yes, sir.”
Let’s go see what information Dad has.
***
“He’s back? As in back in Phoenix?” Nico grits his teeth, clenching his fist so tight his knuckles turn white. “Does he have a fucking death wish?”
“Clearly,” I mutter, as I clench and unclench my fist. That asshole better hope I don’t see him. He’ll be dead before he can blink.
“Yes, he’s back in Phoenix, I have eyes on him twenty-four-seven.” Dad’s eyes land on me. “Don’t go after him yourself. He’s smart and still very much part of the police department.”
“If I bump into detective pretty boy, you better believe I’m killing him on the spot.”
“No. You will do as you’re told and leave it.”
“You can’t be serious, Dad? He almost killed my fucking girlfriend.” I close my eyes, taking a deep breath as I realize what I just said. “My daughter’s mother. He almost left Emily without a mother. No child should go through life without their mother.”
“I know, son. But we have to outsmart him.”
“So, what happens now?” Nico asks, obviously still reeling from the information that Brad is back. “What happens with Daria and Emily? They can’t stay in that house alone.”
“We’ll have someone outside looking after them around the clock. Blair will shadow Emily as normal, and Cobra will shadow Daria.”
“Cobra?” I flash my eyes over at Cobra, who scowls at me. “No offense, Cobra, but she’s my family. I should be the one to shadow her.”
“Well, no offense, Striker, but how do you think she’ll feel to see you everywhere she goes? She didn’t look too pleased to see you at her house today, did she?”
“I don’t give a shit,” I grind out, my jaw ticking. “She’s my woman. I will look after what is mine!”
“She’s not yours anymore, kid.”
My nose flares, my breathing becoming erratic. My eyes never leave Cobra’s. He’s one of Dad’s oldest, most loyal friends, and right now, I want to fuck him up. I’m on my feet, leaning across the table, my eyes fixed on his smug face.
“Leave it. You know he’s right.” Nico stands beside me with his hand on my bicep. He looks at me with his brows pinched in the middle and a downturned mouth, letting out a heavy sigh. And I do know he’s right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Pushing off the table, I storm away, grabbing my cell on the way.
“Striker, I haven’t finished!” Dad shouts. “Striker! Jesus fucking Christ. Nico, go after him.”
No-one will stop me looking after my girls. My family.
No one.
“Striker,” Nico calls as I walk to my room. “Striker, stop, man.”
I grab a few of my knives and put them into the holders on both my legs and waistband. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Nico.”
“I know, but your dad has a plan. We need to stick to it.”
“I’m not going to walk past him if I see him. I’m killing him.” My eyes dare him to go against me.
“Striker, your dad has given you orders to stand down if you see him.” Nico pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t give a shit about orders.”
“What are you going to do if you see him in a packed street? Huh? Kill him and get sent to prison, never seeing Daria and Emily again?”
“It will be worth it to see that fucker killed.” I try to pass him, but he blocks me. “Nico, move.”
“No. My sister has been cut up since you broke up, and I will not stand by and watch her break further with you being in jail. You’re not thinking clearly. You need to chill.” He shoves my shoulder, squaring up to me.
“Chill? You want me to chill when that dickhead beat Daria half to death and stabbed her, killing our fucking baby?” I roar. He blanches when I mention that Daria miscarried. “Yeah, she found out she was pregnant that morning. That shithead stabbed her and killed our goddamn kid.” I’ve kept that information to myself from the day Daria told me. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to anyone. I locked it away, along with all the other bad shit that happened to me in the past. Now I’ve said it out loud, it makes it all real. We lost a baby. Tears fill my eyes, I feel like there’s a knot around my heart pulling tighter as I think of the baby we lost at his hand. My jaw ticks and I grind down on my teeth as anger starts to take over me.
“We should be preparing to become parents again, and I could have had a second chance at being there from the beginning. He took that from me. He took a life, so now I’m going to take his.”
“Hey, man, I’m in with whatever you decide. This fucker almost killed my sister, and he killed my niece or nephew.”
“If you see him-”
“It’s your kill, man.” He places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. You could have told me. Does your dad know?”
“No, he doesn’t. I know I could have told you, but I guess I was in denial about it all. I didn’t want to believe it was true, so I just put it in the little box in my head, along with dealing with my mom’s death.” I press the heel of my hand into my eye. “He needs to die, Nico. I need to be the one to do it.”
“Of course. At least let me get a punch or two in.”
I let out a laugh. “Of course.”
Brad is going to wish he never put his hands on Daria.
He dies on sight.
CHAPTER SIX
Daria
A knock at the door makes me jump.
“Relax, I’ll get it.” Blair pats my hand. We’ve been watching rubbish TV since Nico, Cobra, and Striker left. I think of Striker, the way he looked and smelled. Desire pools between my legs. These pregnancy hormones are driving me crazy already. I swear I was staring at Blair, thinking about jumping on him, begging him to take me. Blair is gorgeous. I mean, he’s really gorgeous. Tall, but not as tall as Striker. Muscular, but not as big as Striker. Strong jaw, dark brown hair, a light dusting of facial hair and denim blue eyes, but not as bright as Striker’s. I swear, if I didn’t know, I would have said they were related in some way. When I saw Striker earlier, his bright blue eyes penetrating my soul when he was staring at me, the way he growled when I said I didn’t lock the door, it stirred up all the feelings I thought I had locked away, but no. They’re here and it looks like they have no intention of leaving. I wanted him to take me there in the kitchen, and when I said his name, I saw his eyes sparkle a little. It was small, but I noticed it. I hoped that when I deliberately brushed past him, he would follow me and fuck me into next week.
You’re letting Miss V lead you again.
“These came for you.” Blair walks in, holding a large bunch of flowers and an envelope.
My brows furrow. “No card?”
“Maybe from Striker?”
“No. He knows I hate lilies.” Maybe that’s why he sent them. No, not with the way he looked at me this morning. Blair hands me the envelope. “Do you want a coffee or a beer?”
“Coffee, please.”
I uncurl my legs from under me to go put the flowers in a vase. I may hate them, but that doesn’t mean they have to be thrown in the trash. I’ll go to Grandpa’s grave tomorrow morning and put them there. I rip open the brown envelope and drop the contents on the floor, my hand covering my mouth.
No. Not again.
I hear the front door opening and Nico talking to Blair. I bend quickly to gather up all the photos and throw them into the nearest drawer, turning my back to the door then grabbing a beer for Nico and a coffee for Blair.
“Hey.” Nico comes up behind me, kissing the back of my head in a brotherly manner. I wish I hadn’t closed my eyes because all I see is the images of Striker and that whore in multiple compromising positions swirling around. Bile rises to my throat, and I drop the beer, the bottles smashing at my feet. I run up to my bathroom with Nico shouting after me.
“Daria?” He knocks on my bathroom door. I’m too busy throwing up to even try to answer him. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Dodgy sandw
ich at work.”
Nico stops me when I finally emerge from the bathroom, placing his hands on my shoulders. His brow creases. “You sure it’s nothing else?”
“I’m sure. I’m going for a lie down.” I sidestep him, heading into my room before he can ask any more questions.
“Okay, I’ll be downstairs if you need me,”
I wake up from my sleep to the smell of something delicious cooking. I walk into the kitchen and see Blair has made dinner.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Nico greets me when I enter the kitchen. “You feeling any better?”
“A little.”
“Dinner is served, ma’am.” Blair smiles, pulling out my seat for me to sit.
“Thank you.”
“Thanks, Blair.” Nico sits opposite me. Blair places a plate of garlic butter chicken, roast potatoes, and vegetables in front of me. I hope I can keep this down because it looks so good.
I take a bite; if a mouth orgasm was a thing, I would be having multiple ones right now.
“Oh my God, Blair,” I moan, closing my eyes. I open my eyes to see Nico raising an eyebrow, his fork still in his mouth and Blair blushing. “What? It’s good. Where did you learn to cook?”
“My dad was a chef.” A sliver of sadness clouds his blue eyes. “He taught me from the time I was able to stand on the stool to help him. He always said that a woman loves a man who can cook, and that if you can have fresh flowers and a home-cooked meal waiting for her, then you’re golden.”
“Your dad sounds like one of the men I read about in my romance novels.”
“Mom loved it, especially after a grueling shift at work.”
“Well, thank you. It’s appreciated.” I smile at him.
“Who are the flowers from?” Nico asks.
“Someone at work.” Am I hell telling him I don't know who they were from. He'll be on his bike and chasing up the delivery boy, making him tell him who the sender was. And I am not telling him about the contents of that envelope either. I can feel Blair looking at me and I slightly shake my head.
“I’m going to head off. My sister has a piano recital I said I would be at. You need me for anything else, boss?” Blair asks Nico.
“No. I’ll call you tomorrow with instructions.”
With that, he leaves.
***
“Lilies? Don’t you hate lilies?” Nico sits by me on the sofa with his bottle of beer after we’ve cleared all the dishes away.
“Yeah, I do.” I sigh. I just want to get away from this subject. “Tell me about your honeymoon.”
“You sure everything is okay?” Nico asks.
“Sure, why?”
“I don’t know, just since this morning you seem distracted.”
“Nico, I’m fine.”
“You can’t bullshit me, Daria. I know when something is bugging you or scaring you. Now tell me.”
“Nico, please just leave it.”
“Is it Striker? Because he came here this morning with me? I told him you didn’t want him here or the other guys, but you know what his stubborn ass is like. Can’t take no for an answer.” He shakes his head with a laugh at his best friend. I wonder if he would be laughing if I told him what I saw.
“No, it’s not that. I just…” I can’t tell him. I just can’t. “I’m just nervous about flying out to New York.”
“You’re scared of flying? Yet you’re about to watch a movie about plane crashes.” He raises an eyebrow at me like I’m crazy.
“I like to scare the shit out of myself.” I shrug.
Shaking his head, he reaches for the popcorn. We settle down to watch the movie, but all I can think about is those photos.
Striker and that whore.
***
A couple of days after someone being in my home, more lilies were delivered, and more photos of Striker and that whore came. The more I saw, the angrier I got at him again. Here I am, growing another one of his kids inside me, and he’s fucking that skank at every given moment. Fuck him and fuck the club. Nico tried to call me a few times last night, and when I failed to pick up, Jess came over and asked what was going on with me and why I wasn’t answering my cell to anyone. I told her honestly that I needed to get my thoughts together, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone. She said she understood, but suggested that I talk to someone about what’s going on before it consumes me. I made an appointment for a therapist, because I know I need help sorting through these thoughts and feelings. Help from someone who isn’t associated with me or with Striker. I needed an outsider who wouldn’t judge and take sides, to guide me to separate what’s real and what’s not.
I pick up my keys and the lilies, along with my satchel. I need to drop some papers off at the office for Jake Snr. for our new case.
Something catches my eye when I'm about to lock up.
Is that? No. Fucking. Way. Striker.
I storm over to him. He sits up taller on his bike when he sees me walking toward him. His eyes rake over my body.
“Why can't you leave me the hell alone, Striker?” I sneer at him. “Stop stalking me. Stop getting me followed. Is there any wonder I thought I was being watched when I see you everywhere I fucking look?” He's about to say something, and I can see he's getting pissed. Join the club. “Do me a favor and stay away from me.” I storm away from him, climbing into my car and slamming the door. He’s still staring at me as I throw the car into drive. My tires screech when I speed off, watching him watch me in the rearview mirror.
How do people expect me to sort my head out if everywhere I go, I see Striker?
***
My cell rings when I come out of the office. Before that, I went to the graveyard and sat for an hour, talking to Grandpa about everything. God, I wish he was here. I see Barron’s name flash up on my phone. My immediate instinct is to ignore it as I have with Nico and Blair, but something makes me answer it.
“Hello.” My voice is less than friendly.
“Daria, can you come to the clubhouse?”
“Why?”
“I need some legal advice.”
“Can you not call your own lawyer?”
“He’s on vacation. You’re the next best thing.”
“Fine. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.” I really don’t want to go anywhere near the clubhouse, but Barron has helped me a lot over the past few weeks with picking up and dropping Emily off at school and basketball practice while I work. This is the least I can do for him.
When I park in the parking lot of the clubhouse, I’m greeted by Chucky. “Hey, sweetheart.” He helps me out of the car. He’s always been nice to me, and he was the only one who was kind to me when I was seventeen. Well, apart from Nico and Fran. Smiling a little, I nod my acknowledgment at him, not trusting my voice.
I walk into the clubhouse, and all eyes turn to me. Fran looks up from doing what she was doing, letting out a slight gasp, and her hand comes to her chest over her heart but drops just as quick as it lifted. She’s obviously as shocked that I’m here as I am. She offers me a small smile, which I return with a nod of the head.
All these hormones running through my body are killing me. I feel like I’m on the verge of tears every minute of every day. I would love to run over to give her a hug because I’ve missed her, but I want in and out of here as quickly as possible. The whores sneer at me like they think they’re better than me. Another reason I don’t want to be here.
“Come on through, Daria,” Barron calls, beckoning me to follow him. Following Barron into the room where the club discusses their business, the first person I see when I walk in is Lauren, then Nico, Jess, and Dad, all sitting staring at me.
“What's the emergency?” I hear his voice from behind me. My whole body feels like I've touched a live wire. My heart races faster when I feel his eyes on me.
“You two. Sit,” Barron demands, pointing at both of us then to the chairs like we’re in the principal’s office. Striker sits down; I remain standing with my arms folded. “Daria. Sit, p
lease.”
“Not happening, Barron. I’m sorry.”
Striker laughs and shakes his head. “Stubborn bitch.”
“Excuse me?” I turn my attention to him.
“You heard. You're a stubborn bitch! When the prez tells you to sit at the table, you sit.” He stands. “Do yourself a favor for once in your God damn life and do as you're told!”
“You know what? Fuck you, Striker!” I turn to leave but stop when Striker mutters something under his breath. “You got something to say?”
“Nope.” He pops the p in a bored tone.
“No. You like going behind my back, talking shit and screwing the whores, right? That's what you're good at.”
“Believe what you want, little girl.” He calls me the name he called me the first time I was here, and it pisses me off. “I'm done explaining shit to you.” He’s standing toe to toe with me, glaring down at me, and his lips twist into a sneer. “Ever since you came into my life, I have done nothing but fuck everything up. I can't do shit without you nagging in my fucking ear.” He leans in closer. “If that’s what it feels like to be in a relationship, I don't want it anymore.”
I huff out a laugh and shake my head. “You're not relationship material. I always knew you would be the one to fuck up my head worse than my stepmom!”
Jess gasps in horror.
“Daria.” Dad's shocked voice hits my ears.
“The difference is, I make it known to everyone, unlike her.”
“Striker.” This time it's Barron’s voice.
“Yeah, you're right. Well, let me make things easier for you.” I slap him hard across the cheek. Spit flies from his mouth and he stumbles a little. I walk out, slamming the door, leaving everyone shocked at our exchange.
Dickhead thinks he can talk to me like that in front of everyone. I'm glad I'll be getting the hell away from him for the next week.
Stop kidding yourself. You love him, and you will be back with him before the week is out.
Not a chance.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Daria
I'm packing my bags for my trip. I want to get away from all the shit that has been getting me down the past year. Striker being the biggest one. He’s left physical and emotional scars on me. I just can't take it anymore.
Nothing Else Matters (Demons Disciples MC Book 2) Page 4