Biker Daddy (The Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale Book 1)

by Gianni Holmes

  From our position parked on the shoulder of the road, all I saw was a man slumping with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I should hate him for the grief he had caused Grimm, but I only pitied him for all he had thrown away.

  His loss was my gain.

  “It’s okay.” I smiled at Grimm to let him know I meant every word, because he didn’t look as if he believed me. Two months might have passed since my kidnapping, since we found Fable, and since my father’s death, but Grimm was even more protective of me because of everything that had happened. As if that wasn’t bad enough, one of the Reapers went missing two days ago. According to the rumor mill, the Di Oros had new people in town, but no one could confirm a sighting.

  “He has no right to be here,” Grimm stated.

  “If what you told me is true, and if what I suspect—that my father never got over him—is truer, then I think he has as much right to be here as we do.”

  Grimm didn’t look convinced as he stared at the man standing several feet away from us, where my father’s temporary grave marker had been replaced yesterday. I had been called this morning that the permanent marker was up, and I had immediately asked Grimm to take me. It wasn’t like he would allow me to go on my own. I had escorts who brought me to the hospital and back home every day. I had given up protesting when it became clear that Grimm wouldn’t budge on that front.

  “I still don’t trust him.”

  I placed a hand on Grimm’s stomach and stroked him through the material of his shirt. I could feel the bulge of muscles in his stomach that had tensed at the sight of his nemesis. Hell, I didn’t even know what to make of Grimm and Gunner’s relationship these days.

  “I don’t believe that, Daddy Grimm” I told him. “If you didn’t trust Gunner, you would never have allowed him to help you when you rescued me.”

  “That’s different.”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “How so?”

  He blew out a frustrated breath. “It’s complicated. There are certain things I trust him with, but others—namely, you—no.”

  Going up on tiptoe, I pressed a kiss to his lips. Grimm placed his hands on my hips and leaned forward, kissing me back. Before we could delve into one of our passionate encounters, I gently stepped back. I still wanted him as much as I did years ago. I knew he thought once I had my fill of him I would be gone, but I had shown him that I was here to stay by his side.

  “You can stay here,” I told him. “I think it’s high time he and I talked.”

  “Fuck no!”

  “Please, Daddy Grimm,” I begged softly. “You’ll be right here where you can watch everything that’s happening. He won’t do anything, especially with you right here. Just give me ten minutes alone with him.”

  “I won’t like it.”

  I hid my smile at how he almost sounded petulant. “I’ll make it a worthwhile trade-off when we get home,” I promised him as I stepped back.

  “I’d rather know you’re safe,” he grumbled, but he didn’t follow me. He leaned against his bike, crossing his legs at the ankles and dug inside his cut for his pack of cigarettes. “Fuck, boy. You stole my smokes, didn’t you?”

  I pretended that I didn’t hear him while I hurried toward Gunner, who still hadn’t budged from where he stood. Since he mentioned wanting to quit smoking, I’d been helping him to stay on track. Smoking was something that came as second nature to Grimm, and if I didn’t swipe the packs of cigarettes he kept slipping into his pockets, he would slide right back into the habit.

  I had lost my father, and Grimm could do with one less factor to add up to an untimely death that could have been avoided.

  Gunner must have heard Grimm’s bike when we entered the ceremony, but he gave no sign of noticing me even when I neared my father’s marker. I was too distracted by the brand-new marble stone carved with my father’s name to address him. Beneath his name were the dates he was born and died followed by the police officer’s prayer.

  Just in front of the grave marker was a ring like the one my father always kept in his drawer. He never wore it, but I remembered taking it out once as a child and how livid he had been. Beside it was a photo that took my breath away. It was my father when he was younger. He was in his late teens, looking as serious as he always was. He stood between Gunner and Grimm, who smiled for the camera. All three men looked cocky and so young.

  “Wow, this—this is beautiful,” I murmured, still staring at the photo. I chuckled and glanced sideways at Gunner. “I guess even back then he frowned a lot, huh?”

  His laugh startled me. It was dry and hollow like that of a man who had suffered and still was. “You have no idea.” He ended on a chuckle before turning to stare at me. His gaze was so intent I felt my face heating up. “I’m guessing Grimm told you the truth about us.”

  I met his astute gaze without flinching. “You mean how you three had your own little orgy going on when you were younger? Yeah.”

  Gunner’s eyes crinkled before a full-throated laugh echoed from him. He laughed so hard tears sprang into his eyes. “Holy shit, your father said you were a fucking handful.”

  How interesting. I turned to fully face him. “You spoke to my father?”

  He shrugged, looking beyond me back to the grave marker. “We exchanged words a couple of times. It wasn’t nearly enough.”

  His words were so raw my heart ached for him. I thought about me being in this position staring at Grimm’s marker. Those thoughts terrified me. I didn’t remember what life was like without Grimm.

  “You loved him,” I said softly, trying not to think on how weird this conversation was. A few months ago, he had been goading Grimm and me in the supermarket, threatening us. Now here he was mourning my father.

  “Loved him. Hated him. Loved him some more. None of it matters now.”

  “I’m sorry he was taken from you.”

  My conversation must have made him uncomfortable. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his cut, his frown lines deepening. “He was never mine.”

  “Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” He glanced behind him, his shoulders tensing. “Surprised Grimm allowed you to be here with me for so long.”

  “You wouldn’t make it out of here alive if you were to hurt me.”

  Gunner nodded, grinning at me. “Good. I think Mason is at peace knowing Grimm and I would die before we let anything happen to his son.”

  I inhaled sharply, his words sinking in with clarity. “I—I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t need to understand. You just need to know. Mason meant the world to me. You’re the only connection I now have to him, and I’m not ready to let him go completely.”

  With that, he walked away, leaving me to stare at the rockers on his cut. Grimm must have lost his patience because he was no longer leaning against his motorcycle. He met Gunner a few yards away from me, both exchanging words I couldn’t hear, and their expressions gave nothing away. Grimm continued toward me, and Gunner never once looked back.

  “Whatever Gunner said to you, he’s usually full of shit,” Grimm said, coming to a stop beside me. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, gesturing toward the items Gunner had left behind. Grimm squatted in front of the grave marker and plucked the photo from the ground. He peered at the picture almost in disbelief. I crouched next to him, looped my arm through his, and leaned my head on his shoulder.

  “I can’t believe he kept this,” he murmured.

  “It’s a beautiful photo.” They all looked so happy, and as much as I tried I couldn’t imagine what they must have been like back then. Three queer teens in a town that was crime-infested and where their sexuality made them a target. “Will you tell me about that day?”

  “It was Mason’s birthday,” he replied, his voice sounding distant as if he was remembering. “He made us promise him we wouldn’t make a fuss, but I knew Gunner wanted to do something special for him. By then I kind of figured out they were falling in love. At least I coul
d see that Gunner was. Mason was harder to figure out. Anyway, see that car in the background?”

  I hadn’t really paid attention, too drawn to the three men, but now I saw the beaten-up car they stood in front of. “Yes, what about it?”

  “Gunner got him that car for his birthday,” he continued on a chuckle, replacing the photo and rubbing a hand through his beard. “Shit, your father was fucking livid that day knowing we didn’t get the money legit for Gunner to afford that car. Worse, at that time Gunner was homeless and could have used that money more than Mase needed a car.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to picture my father, Gunner, and Grimm as they had been that day. Strange enough, Dad was the only one who I could see in that light. There was so much about him that hadn’t changed even as he grew older and started a family.

  “Your father looked out for us,” Grimm said, pulling me gently to my feet. “When he left, it fucked up Gunner a lot, and I don’t think he ever got over it.”

  I turned into Grimm’s arms, drawing strength from him. There were days that were good, when I could pretend that my father was just busy at work. Then there were days that I missed him so much I cried or visited our home to lie in his bed to feel closer to him. Then there were days like today that I felt like everything would be okay. That he didn’t regret anything that had happened. That he would have still tried to save me at the expense of his life if he got another chance.

  Because he loved me.

  “Gunner said he would protect me with his life,” I said softly.

  Grimm’s arms tightened around me before relaxing. He placed a kiss on top of my head. “That’s good to know, Half-Way. There may come a time when we need it, although I hope to God not.”

  I slid my hands up Grimm’s chest and entwined my arms around his neck, smiling at him.

  Dad, I hope you forgive me. I hope you see how much I love him and need him. Thank you for giving me the chance to be with him.

  “Let’s go home.”

  Thanks for reading the first book in the Grimm Tales of Smoky Vale series. I would love to hear your thoughts. Why not write a review? They help readers find books they might be interested in. They also feed a writer’s creative juices. Are you looking forward to the second book in this series? Keep scrolling to see the cover reveal.

  Bonus Scene

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  Coming Soon

  Booker: The Enforcer without a heart.

  Zak: The double-agent with a big heart.

  Fable: The Little with the broken heart.

  Triple the fun. Triple the sexy. Triple the danger. Triple the heart.

  Become a Gem

  I have a vibrant Facebook group that all readers are welcomed to join. I share lots of teasers, book covers, and oh my, the giveaways are great. I only ask for you to be respectful even when there’s dissenting viewpoints. Looking forward to having you join us at Gianni’s Gems.

  So You Loved Biker Daddy

  What Next?

  Gianni is a lover of age gap (May/December) romance stories. Check out her list of books below. Also keep a lookout for Gianni’s new pen name G. S Holmes where she will publish Mpreg and other fantasy-oriented books.

  Freebies on Prolific Works

  Lemonade & Loose Lips (new series for subscribers only)

  Mr. Hopper (roleplay)

  Of Thunder & Trickery (Loki & Thor fan-fic)

  The Pick-Up

  Taking Care Series (Daddy Kink)

  Take Care of You

  Take Care of Me

  Take Care of Us

  Mother’s Day Special

  Father’s Day Special

  Till There Was You series (Hurt/Comfort)

  Easy Does It Twice

  Ollie on the Out

  All Hearts on Deck

  The Pick-Up (coming soon)

  The Runway Project series (May/December)

  Unwrapping Ainsley

  Where There’s a Will

  Fashionably, Frankie (coming soon)

  A Marksman Tale

  Marking What’s Mine

  Marking His Mask

  Niccola

  Bartering His Body: Prehistoric Man

  More About Gianni Holmes

  Gianni Holmes is a high school Spanish teacher by day and a naughty but nice writer by night. She loves to watch romantic comedies, especially old sitcoms such as Everybody Loves Raymond and The Andy Griffith Show. She spends much of her time writing or impersonating her characters. Apart from her love of superheroes, she also enjoys cartoons and watches them regularly. She is a single mother who lives with her five-year-old daughter in the Caribbean. Her mission is to write heat with heart, spinning compelling stories that will leave readers wanting more.

  Visit her at

  www.gianniholmesauthor.com