“Hi there. I’m Kaylynn. What’s your name?”
“No!”
In a flash, she leapt from my arms. She ran down the hallway, screaming for help and calling out for her father. I sighed as I walked after her, watching her move toward the back porch doors. I lunged after her, closing the door with my own hands just as she opened it. I flipped the lock. She screamed out curses in my direction. I sighed as she tore through my house, trying to rip open windows to get away from me.
And all the while, I tried getting to know her.
“What’s your name, sweetie?”
“No!”
“Are you hungry?”
“Let me out of here!”
“Would you like some ice cream?”
“Stay away from me!”
“I could show you to your room, if you’d like.”
“Stop touching me!”
She whipped around, placing a well-timed punch to my gut. And I had to admit, it stunned me for a second. It took me a bit to get my breath again. To gain my bearings. But when I heard her stomping up the stairs, I followed after her. I kept my cool as much as I could. I didn’t dare raise my voice at a girl who had just been ripped from her own home. I knew enough to know that was what had happened. She’d been plucked right off the street. Probably at the beckoning of my brother’s boss. My brother’s employer. The man he defended with his life.
Lars Norden.
“I hate you!”
Ariel’s croaking voice pulled me from the memory in just enough time to see her raise her fists. She brought them down against my chest, striking my breasts as she brought tears to my eyes. But I didn’t fight back. She was scared. Angry. Confused. Even two weeks later. Which I didn’t blame her for at all. She’d been caught up in a whirlwind that had nothing to do with her. And my heart ached for the sadness causing her to lash out.
Instead, I wrapped my hands around her wrists. Stopping her from striking me again.
“Ariel, you have to listen to me.”
“No, I don't!”
“You need to take some breaths.”
“You can’t tell me what to do!”
“Could your father tell you what to do?” I asked.
My question settled her down as she thought on it. And it gave me enough time to wiggle out of the corner she’d backed me into. I watched tears crest her eyes as her body started to shiver. And as I slowly led her back down the stairs toward the dinner, I had prepared for us in the kitchen, tears streaked her face.
“I want my daddy,” she said breathlessly.
“I know you do, sweetheart. Which is why you have to be a good girl, okay?” I asked.
“Why did you take me from my daddy?”
“I’m sure it’s just because Daddy needed—”
“A break?”
I paused. “Why would Daddy need a break?”
“He always needs breaks from me. That’s why I stay with Uncle Lyle all the time.”
My heart broke for her. “No, he didn't need a break from you, pretty girl. He just needs some time. He’s sick, and he needs to get better.”
She sniffled. “What’s Daddy sick with?”
We started making our way for the kitchen. “He’s got the flu.”
“The flu?”
“Mhm. And you’re with me because Uncle Lyle has it, too. And they don’t want you getting sick.”
“So, you know my Daddy?”
I nodded, going along with the lie. “I know him very well. I’ve known him for years.”
“Is that why he hasn’t come after me yet?”
“Yep. He just doesn’t want you sick. That’s all.”
“So, he loves me?”
I smiled. “Of course, he loves you, Ariel.”
“So, he didn’t get rid of me like Mommy did?”
I sat her down at the kitchen table. “He could never give you away, pretty girl. And your mom? Well, she lost out on a good kid like you.”
She paused. “Good kid?”
I took her hands within mine as I crouched down in front of her.
“Yes, Ariel. Good kid. You’re a good kid. And don’t you ever doubt that. Okay?”
And just like that, she lunged at me. She went from hitting me to hugging me within the span of a few minutes. I closed my eyes tight, hugging her as much and as long as she wanted. Even though dinner was done. Even though the soup was now overcooking itself on the stove. I didn’t care. This girl needed so much more than soup and buttered bread. She needed love. Care. Acceptance. Someone who gave a shit about her. And right now, I was that person.
I wouldn't let her down, either.
“It’s okay. Let it out, honey. You can cry as long as you want,” I said softly.
“Mommy didn’t want me, and I thought Daddy didn’t, either. He’s going to be so mad at me,” she said through her sobs.”
I kissed the side of her head. “He could never be mad at you for something like that. I know this is all very confusing right now. I know you’ve been ripped away from people you love. But I promise you, you’re safe with me. Okay?”
“Even from the man who took me away?”
I paused, thinking back on how I found her. How she came to my door. My brother, with his hand cupped over her mouth. With his fist twisted in her shirt. With his knee in her back. It boiled my blood to think about. It made me want to claw his eyes out. I didn’t know when the hell my brother turned into our father. But as far as I was concerned, I wanted nothing to do with him.
“Especially from him,” I whispered.
The more she cried against my shoulder, the more I thought back to my childhood. How cold and removed my father had been. How he didn’t shed one tear at our mother’s funeral when I was only eleven years old. How he locked himself away in his office and hired a string of nannies to parent me and my older brother, Alex. He had been cold. Calculating. Isolating. And when my father died, Alex stepped into his position.
Replacing his fun-loving smile with the cold, calculating frown I’d always remember about our father.
Ariel sniffled. “Is that soup?”
I smiled. “It is. Tomato and carrot bisque with sweet corn and mushrooms. And I made fresh buttered bread.”
“That sounds good. Except the mushrooms.”
“Will you give it a try for me? And if you don’t like them, I’ll make you up something else.”
“Promise?”
She pulled away and I smiled up into her face. “I promise with all my might.”
“Thank you.”
I furrowed my brow. “For what?”
“For not yelling at me.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll never yell at you unless I feel it’s necessary to get your attention. Or to find you during hide and seek.”
She giggled. “You’re good at that game. I almost couldn’t find you last time.”
“Want to play tonight?”
She paused. “Could we watch a movie instead?”
And as I smiled up into her face, she smiled back at me. Turning a corner, we always did with our fights. Her beautiful hazel eyes danced with a mischievous light and her fiery red hair ignited the freckles smattered against her face. I brushed it away from her forehead, standing up just enough to press a kiss to her forehead.
A kiss I could have sworn she leaned into instead of backing away from.
I promise, we’ll get you out of here.
And it was a promise I intended to keep.
3
Ryker
“Here. Take this.”
Knox’s voice filled my ears as I leaned up from the railing. With strings of spit trailing from my mouth, I reached around for whatever the hell he was handing me. The water bottle fell against my palm and I brought it around. I filled my mouth, swishing and spitting as I rid it of that awful taste. I hated throwing up. Hell, I hated being sick in the first damn place. I stood up, trying to get my feet underneath me as I went from swishing to chugging. I drained
that water bottle. I felt parched for breath. For life. For air.
My sweet baby girl was in the hands of that monster.
And I was a shit father for allowing it to happen.
I crumpled the plastic bottle in my hands and tossed it back to Knox. And after a thankful nod, my eyes looked around. The rest of the guys stepped out onto the porch, surrounding me. Waiting for story time, so to speak. I leaned against the railing as I tried to get my bearings. I had no fucking idea where to even start this story. Because every place I chose required me to back up and tell even more backstory.
“Just start at the beginning,” Diesel said softly.
I sighed. “We’ll be here a while.”
“We got time,” Knox said.
“My daughter doesn’t,” I snapped.
“Then, get talking,” Grave said.
I drew in a deep breath. “I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. I was reckless. Angry. My father was an abusive shit, and I saw my mother busted up more than I saw her healthy and happy. Sex was my release. My escape from all that… shit.”
“Fair enough,” Bear said.
“One-night stands were my thing. And when I was sixteen and practically flunking out of high school anyway, there was a knock at the door one morning. I was the only one up. Dad was passed out drunk on the couch and Mom was upstairs nursing her newest wounds. I open the door, and there’s this kid. This little girl. Wrapped up in blankets, lying in a car seat with nothing. Just… just nothing.”
“You know who the mom is?” Toxin asked.
“Yep. I mean, I kind of remembered her. Wild red hair. A little minx in bed. Complete and total trash, that girl. But a decent-enough lay. And here was this little girl, with my hazel eyes and that same fiery red hair. Crying and screaming for food.”
“You said sixteen?” Brewer asked.
I nodded, getting frustrated with their questions. “Yep. I ended up dropping out of high school in order to take dead end jobs to provide for her. Get her shit she needed. Like food and clothes.”
“How did your dad take that?” Diesel asked.
“Not well. He was pissed, like always. Took his anger out on me and my mom, like always,” I said.
“That how you got the scar on your face?” Grave asked.
“Do you guys want to hear this fucking story or keep asking me bullshit questions?” I snapped.
And when everyone fell silent, I drew in another deep breath.
“I haven’t seen the girl since that night we fucked at some party. I don’t know, I was drunk. To this day, I barely remember that night. My best friend from school, Lyle, was a massive help. Night jobs were all I could find, mostly. So, he babysat at seventeen and eighteen years old in exchange for me doing his chores around the house for him. Simple as that, when you’re a fucking kid. He watched Ariel—”
“That your daughter’s name?” Saint asked.
I slowly panned my eyes over to him. “Yes. It is.”
“Cute, with the red hair,” Rock said.
“All of you shut up or go the hell inside,” I glowered.
“He’s right. Let him get through his story,” Diesel said.
I shot him a thankful look before I leaned heavily against the railing. Because telling this damn story always ripped the energy from my bones.
“I got the scar on my face when I was younger. Before Ariel came along. I got a C-minus in one of my classes in school, and he took a damn crowbar to my face. My father was a mean son of a bitch. And I watched my mother throw herself into the line of fire for me one too many times. When he started coming around Ariel, I knew I had to get her out of there. I mean, being drunk and incoherent is one thing. But I didn't like the way his eyes lingered on her. I didn't like the way he leered at her. There was just something off about it, so I left. Packed up the shit I had bought her, the shit I had of my own, and left. Lyle helped me get set up in this rundown piece of shit apartment. He kept letting me drop Ariel off at night so I could work all sorts of jobs. And finally, I came into a very well-paying job,” I said.
“Doing what?” Rock asked.
“Cleaning up crime scenes for some criminal in town. I’d report to him during the weeknights. I had weekends off. And even if he called me in during the weekends, I got paid time and a half for the job. I pulled easily three thousand a week. Enough to get Ariel and myself out of that shithole apartment complex and into a safer part of town,” I said.
“What happened to your parents?” Bear asked.
“They died. I tried to get Mom to come with me when I first moved out. Then, again after I moved into that better place. But she wouldn't. She refused to leave my father, and I figured that was her choice. I told her she couldn't babysit Ariel unless she left him. That Lyle would continue watching her until she made better choices with her life. But that didn’t work. I was called in one weekend to clean up a crime scene for time and a half, and he handed me my childhood address.”
“Fucking hell,” Brewer sighed.
“Your boss killed your parents,” Diesel said.
I nodded slowly. “Don’t know what they did and didn’t care enough to look it up. They made their bed, so they laid in it. Pools of blood and all. It hurt for a bit. Then, it was just another job I got paid for in order to provide for Ariel. Pay Lyle money for watching her and shit like that.”
“Does she still stay with Lyle?” Toxin asked.
At least they’re asking good questions now. “Yes. She does. We started that trend when she was a baby, and it just stuck. Especially after Knox found me scrounging around in dumpsters. When money was tight, I ate out of trash cans in order to keep putting fresh food on the table for my baby girl. To keep paying Lyle and all that. Eventually, Lyle got his own job. His own place. He’s a mechanic and pulls at least 60k a year. That’s her uncle. The only family she knows. And whenever I’m with you guys, she’s with him. I figured she’d be much safer with a mechanic who’s essentially trying to live off the grid one day and knows how to wield guns than stuck in a place like this with me and a bunch of other guys and kids she doesn’t know. Ariel’s skittish like that.”
Tears cut off my ability to speak.
“How long has she been gone? How long have you been dealing with this on your own?” Diesel asked.
I shrugged. “Couple weeks. When Lyle contacted me and told me she wasn’t in her room one morning, I rushed over there. Ariel’s prone to running away. She’s a hothead, like me. Always angry. Always on her guard. And for good reason. She hasn’t led an easy life. I mean, I’m her father, but I’m not a good one.”
“You sound like a good one to me,” Saint said.
I shrugged. “Well, I’m not. Lyle’s raised her more than I have. I should’ve given the damn girl up for adoption when she got dumped onto my doorstep. I still don’t know why I didn’t.”
“Because she’s your daughter. And there’s a bond there not many will ever experience,” Grave said.
“Doesn’t matter, though. She runs away every chance she gets. Every time she gets angry and doesn’t want to confront shit. First time it happened; she wasn’t even seven. Or maybe she’d just turned seven. I can’t fucking remember. Either way, Lyle and I thought she’d run away again. He called the police and they’ve been looking for her. And all this time, I’ve been telling myself she’ll turn up. Like she always does. She’ll come home, like she always does. When I should’ve been out there searching for my damn daughter my own fucking self.”
I raked my hands through my hair. The guilt was too much. Father of the year. That was me. The fucking man who stayed with his crew to battle through shit rather than getting out there with the police and searching for his own flesh and blood. It made me sick. I turned around, leaning back over the railing. And as I heaved that water back up, a hand came down onto my back.
“Get it up, man,” Cage said.
“My poor girl,” I said breathlessly.
“We’ll find her. We’ll get her back, just li
ke we got my son back,” Saint said.
“I should've been out there. Not with you guys,” I said through my heaves.
“You were put in an impossible situation. We all thought this would’ve been resolved by now. You put her with someone you trusted. Someone who loved her. You've provided for her. Given her everything she needs. You're a good dad, Ryker,” Diesel said.
I shot up, pushing Cage away. “I’m a shit father!”
My nostrils flared with anger as spit dripped down my chin.
“I’m a shit fucking father, just like my own father. I should’ve been out there, you guys. I should’ve been leading the fucking cavalry that searched for my daughter. And what was I doing? Putzing around with you guys? Being bossed around while we kept getting pushed back into the fucking trenches? My daughter’s been taken, and I haven’t even hit the fucking streets to look for her!”
I yelled so forcefully my vision dimmed. My head swam. I stumbled back into the railing, feeling myself teeter over. Someone wrapped their hands in my leather jacket. They pulled me back to my feet as I wiped at the spit dripping down my neck. My eyes felt hot. My heart slammed against my chest. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. I couldn't see straight.
“I fucking thought she ran away,” I whispered.
Someone wiped at my face and it ripped me from my panicked trance. I looked into Rock’s eyes before shoving him away. I shrugged my shoulders, righting my leather jacket on my shoulders. And then, I felt it.
Fucking tears trickled down my skin.
I turned around and wiped at them until my skin was dry. I smoothed my hands down my jeans, getting rid of the wet sensation. No crying. I hated crying. Crying was beneath a man like myself. I had to stay strong. I had to keep a straight face. A straight mind. I had to give myself time to think clearly enough in order to figure out how the hell to save my daughter.
Before I figured out how the hell to save our relationship.
“The only way to get Ariel back is to do what Lars wants,” Diesel said.
I whipped around. “Say what now?”
“The meeting he mentioned. If we want to see Ariel again, I need to go to that meeting.”
Ryker: Dead Souls MC: Prospects #4 Page 2