“Assumin’ you know who S is,” Rook grumbled. The first words Cage had heard from his brother.
“Yeah.”
“She the only Amish snatch you dipped your dick into?” Dutch asked.
Like he’d tell his father any different if she wasn’t. “Yeah.”
“You sit on that exec committee, boy, but as road captain you don’t get a fuckin’ vote. Don’t be surprised if your ass is stripped of your colors.”
He hadn’t even considered that. Fuck. “Sig’s wasn’t.”
“You ain’t Sig,” Dutch reminded him. “You ain’t Trip’s blood. He don’t have great love for your ass, either. You forget that?”
No, he hadn’t. It had gotten better over the months between him and Trip. Hell, between him and all his club brothers. In the beginning they only tolerated him because Dutch was an Original. His old man had been part of the Blood Fury MC from the club’s inception and was there when everything went down.
The Fury’s implosion had been the final straw that had his mother packing her shit into trash bags and splitting so quickly Cage’s head had spun.
His brother’s, “Least she didn’t leave it in a trash can somewhere. Or in a field for the coyotes,” got his attention.
“What?” he whispered, his stomach churning at the thought of a mother not wanting her kid as much as his mother, Bebe, didn’t want him and Rook.
“Yeah, you know, what mothers do when they don’t want their baby and get desperate,” Rook explained. “We were just too fuckin’ old to get thrown in the trash when Mom left.”
Dutch grunted loudly, but before he could respond, a deep voice came from behind Cage. “That’s why Safe Haven was enacted in this state.”
He turned to see Bryson hoofing it back towards him, holding the kid.
“Newborns can be dropped off at our station, the hospital, or even the firehouse, if the mother is desperate.”
Cage frowned. “That happen?”
“Around here?” Bryson shrugged. “Only once, so far, that I know of. The law is the baby has to be less than twenty-eight days old and unharmed, of course, then no questions are asked. They can hand the baby over and they don’t get in any kind of trouble. If there are signs of abuse, though, that’s a different story.” He glanced down at the baby in his arms and took a deep inhale like he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. “Anyway... got some news...”
“He okay?” Rook asked first before Cage could. Damn it.
“Yes. She is.”
Cage blinked and stared at the quiet bundle Bryson was holding.
She.
What?
“They cleaned her up and put on a real diaper. Clamped off the umbilical cord. She’s hungry but not starving, so she was fed recently at least. Eyes clear, temp normal. Lungs sound developed. Heartbeat strong. Basically, she appears healthy and no worse for wear by being left outside in a cardboard box. They recommend getting her to a pediatrician right away, anyhow. Also, I still think you should do a DNA test, Cage. If she isn’t yours, we need to figure out who her father is, especially if her birth mother doesn’t want anything to do with her. Because if neither parent wants the baby, CPS will have no choice but to step in.”
“Note says the mother don’t want her,” Dutch reminded the cop.
“But that doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind. She might not have been thinking straight at the time.”
“Well, she definitely wasn’t thinkin’ fuckin’ straight when she spread her legs for my dumbass son.”
“Dad,” Rook muttered, shaking his head.
“No, let him get it all outta his fuckin’ system now,” Cage told his brother. “‘Cause there’s gonna come a point where I ain’t gonna hear anymore and what he did to me over there...” Cage jerked his head toward the location that Dutch cuffed him upside the head. “He ain’t ever gonna do to me again.” He turned to Dutch. “So, you better get it all out now, old man. Or as soon as Bryson here is gone, we’re gonna get things fuckin’ straight. The Dietrich way.”
If anyone was familiar with the Dietrich way, it was Dutch, since he was the one who taught it to Rook and Cage. Every single time either one of them fucked up and got caught.
Which was a lot.
That pretty much also meant Dutch’s way to keep his sons straight wasn’t very effective.
Or maybe it was, and both Rook and Cage could have ended up worse off than they were now. Maybe both of them could have ended up in prison for life.
Or dead.
Or just finding out they’re the fucking father of a baby born to some Amish chick after poking her twice in a shed.
His nostrils flared.
Even when he didn’t try to fuck up, he did.
And that baby in Bryson’s arms was one of his biggest. Not because she was born, but because Cage was her father.
The baby might not have a damn chance.
Adopting her out might be the better choice. Like Red did with Levi. She knew what was best for her unplanned pregnancy, what was best for the baby born out of crazy and violent circumstances. She trusted putting Levi in Matt and Carly Bryson’s capable hands.
He needed to think about this.
But nothing could be done until he was sure this baby was his. If she wasn’t, then...
Then he had nothing to worry about. The baby wouldn’t be his problem. She’d be someone else’s. Like the state’s.
A lump the size of a boulder landed in his gut. Hard and uncomfortable.
“Which one of you want to take her while I talk to Cage privately?” Bryson asked.
“Her pap does,” Dutch said, stepping forward. “That other one there don’t know shit about babies, either.”
“Like you were really involved when we were babies,” Rook scoffed. “You knew how to fuckin’ make them, not raise them. No wonder Mom split.”
“Right now’s not a good time to be mouthin’ off to the man who put you on this Earth, boy,” Dutch warned him.
Rook’s jaw got hard and he sucked on his teeth but ate his words. Something Cage knew his brother had a hard time doing.
He had seen Rook and Dutch get into some vicious, bloody brawls when Rook was younger. But Dutch was past the age of getting into scraps. Cage was pretty damn sure his brother could take their father to the ground and Dutch wouldn’t be able to get back up so easily afterward. If at all.
As soon as his old man had a secure hold on the sleeping infant, Bryson grabbed Cage’s upper arm.
He stiffened and ripped his arm free. “Unless you’re arrestin’ me, hands off.”
Bryson tilted his head and stared at Cage, the pig’s narrowed blue eyes spearing him. After a moment, he jerked his chin toward the other side of his cruiser.
Cage reluctantly followed.
When they got there, Bryson pulled a small notebook from his back pocket and flipped it open before sliding a pen from the front pocket of his uniform shirt. “You know who this S woman is?”
“Yeah. She gonna get charged for leavin’ her baby?” His baby.
Jesus fuck. He suddenly felt like puking.
“She left the baby for the father, so... I mean, it wasn’t the best circumstances the way she did it... but she meant well for the most part. We could go talk to her, if you want. I still will need her name, either way.”
Cage shook his head. “Can we hold off on that? For now?”
If the cops showed up to confront Sarah, it would cause more problems with the Amish and, again, possibly screw up the club’s relationship with them. The Fury relied on them to farm the fields and give them supplies in return.
And he remembered, only too well, how pissed off Trip had gotten at Sig because of Rebecca. He ordered them all to stay away from the Amish women. Not just once, either.
“How she did it wasn’t much different than her droppin’ it off anonymously at the fire station, right? In fact, those people would be strangers versus droppin’ the kid off with us... with blood.”
B
ryson ran a hand down his clean-shaven cheek. “If she isn’t your baby, Cage...”
“If she ain’t, I’ll give you the mother’s name. Don’t wanna cause more shit between the club and the Amish, if this kid turns out to be mine.”
Bryson’s eyes narrowed on him again. “What do you mean by more shit?”
Cage regretted that slip up. What happened between Sig and Rebecca was no one’s business but the club’s. That shit had settled. He wouldn’t be the one to stir it back up.
“Nothin’ your brothers in blue need to be involved with. Just a mistake Sig made.”
Bryson cocked a dark eyebrow. “A mistake like you made?”
“Sorta.” But no kid came out of his. Cage dropped his head and shook it. “Don’t make any goddamn sense.”
“Just a little reminder, condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective. Shit happens.”
“Yeah, thanks for the fuckin’ Sex Ed lesson.” Asshole.
“You know, I could still call CPS, if you want. They can take her until the DNA results come back. Then, if she isn’t yours, they could put her in a foster home. Unlike older kids, babies are easy to adopt out. Like I said, my cousin and his husband may—”
“No,” Cage cut him off.
Bryon’s mouth got tight. “Why? Is it because they’re gay?”
“’Cause your cuz is a fuckin’ pig. No pig’s raisin’ my kid. Sig didn’t have a say with Levi, but if he had...” That was all Cage needed to say. He made his point.
“Well then, good thing Autumn cared more about Levi’s well-being than about me wearing a badge.”
“Truth? Sig also figured the badge bullshit might help with keepin’ Levi safe from the Shirleys.”
Bryson didn’t have much to say about that. “I’ll tell the EMTs they can leave. You want me to stay until your shop girl gets back?”
Shop girl? “Nope. Don’t need you. Not sure why you’re here in the first fuckin’ place.”
“Because someone left a newborn in a box in front of the garage, remember? Nobody knew it was yours.”
Cage heard the unspoken dumbass added onto that. He grimaced.
“Anyway, I’ll check back if I don’t hear from you in a couple of days. I need you to let me know as soon as you get those results back. Get the tests done today.”
Right, boss.
“Do you hear me, Cage? Today. It’ll take two or three days to get the results back, if you’re lucky. I’m sure you don’t want to be changing more shitty diapers than you have to if she doesn’t turn out to be yours.”
“You mean like how you change Levi’s when he ain’t really yours?”
A muscle in Bryson’s cheek flexed dangerously. The cop leaned in but not close enough to touch Cage. “Levi is mine. He’s my fucking son. I’ll protect him with my last dying breath. He’s a Bryson, no matter what you think.” The cop straightened. “Oh, that’s right, it doesn’t matter what you think about it. Now, how about worrying about your own daughter. If she’s yours.”
“She’s—” He swallowed the mine. Since when was he in a rush to claim a snot monkey?
“Keep me updated,” Bryson ordered, then folded himself into his pig mobile.
Cage stood there until he left. Then he turned to see his brother, father and... possible daughter gone.
“Christ,” he muttered.
His fucking day went sideways from the moment he opened his eyes this morning.
He had a feeling it wasn’t going to get any better.
He just hoped it couldn’t get any worse.
But he wouldn’t fucking bet on it.
Chapter Three
“Trip ain’t gonna let you keep this kid in your room at the bunkhouse, Cage. You think of that?”
Cage shot a frown at his brother who stood next to the cardboard box on Reilly’s desk, staring down at his could-be niece. “Did I think of that? Are you fuckin’ serious? I haven’t had a chance to think about shit. Got no idea what the fuck I’m doin’. My life just fuckin’ crashed and burned. Haven’t had time yet to think about anything, much less where this kid’s sleepin’.” He blew out a breath. “Maybe Bryson was right...”
“With what?” his father asked.
“Lettin’ CPS take her ‘til we know she’s mine for sure.”
“She ain’t gettin’ in the state’s hands, boy,” Dutch growled. “Once they got their claws in her, it’s hard to rip them back out. Had CPS sniffin’ ‘round after your momma left us.”
What? Cage had no idea.
“No way was I lettin’ them have what belonged to me. Fuck that.”
“So, you only wanted us because we were your property,” Cage concluded.
“No, asshole, wanted you because you were my fuckin’ sons. Convinced your useless snatch of a mother to stop swallowin’ my loads so I could have you two. I wanted you boys, not her. Thought she’d feel differently after you were born. Thought that motherly instinct would kick in. It didn’t. Look at you now, you ungrateful shits. Raised you, fed you, put a fuckin’ roof over your heads. Gave you fuckin’ jobs...” He grunted and stopped his grumping when the baby moved in his arms.
Cage was surprised as fuck when Dutch glanced down and his pissed-off face turned soft.
“She ain’t got a dick so can’t name her Dutch Jr... Gonna name her Duchess, instead.”
He was gonna do what now? “No, Dad. You ain’t namin’ her what you’d name a stray dog. You ain’t namin’ her Duchess.” Cage just about shuddered.
His old man grinned and pressed the tip of his finger to her little button nose. “Yeah, Pap’s baby girl, Duchess.”
“Her name ain’t Duchess,” Cage growled.
Dutch shot him a frown. “Then what you gonna name her?”
Good question. “Nothin’. Not ‘til I know she’s mine. And I recommend you not get attached, Dad. What if she turns out not to be blood?”
“Then I’ll name your next fuck-up Duchess.”
There wouldn’t be another fuck-up. He’d wear two fucking wraps if he had to. Or, fuck it, just give up sex.
Yeah, no. The last option wasn’t a viable one.
He could stick to oral and anal sex. Yeah, that sounded like a better plan.
“Where the fuck is Reilly? Gotta feed Duchess.” Dutch hooted. “Can’t wait to see you change her for the first time, either.” He chuckled as he put the baby carefully back in the box amongst the blankets. “Gonna videotape it.”
“On what? Your Betamax video camera?” Rook asked with a snort. “Just use your fuckin’ smart phone.”
“Phone ain’t so fuckin’ smart,” their father grumbled.
“Smarter than you, old man,” Rook said.
“Swear you don’t like breathin’, do you, boy?”
“You make a lot of threats for someone who can hardly roll outta bed in the mornin’,” Rook reminded him.
Dutch grabbed his junk and shook it. “Can’t roll outta bed because of my kickstand. Musta got your small dicks from your momma’s side.”
Rook’s mouth flattened out. “We’ve all seen your dick, Dutch, and—”
Reilly rushed into the office, out of breath, her hands full of plastic shopping bags. “Would’ve been nice if someone would’ve come out to help.”
“Didn’t know you were back,” Cage answered.
“You can’t hear that thing pulling in?” she asked with wide eyes. “That car is loud.”
“It ain’t loud. It purrs like it should. Like a woman when I’m eatin’ her pussy,” Cage told her.
Reilly put a finger to her lips and said smartly, “Bet you don’t remember Tonya purring like that.”
“Who the fuck is Tonya?” Dutch asked.
“Nobody,” Cage answered quickly.
“So, anyway, while I was at Walmart, someone hit your convertible with a cart,” Reilly announced like it was no big thing.
He spun on her, his mouth hanging open. “What?”
She grinned. “Just kidding.” She leaned over the box
and brushed her fingers over the baby’s sparse downy hair. “But I don’t think that car will work for hauling this little one around.” She straightened. “You should get a minivan. And sell me that car on payments. It’s badass.”
No shit it was badass. That was why he restored it. He was the one who stripped it down to the frame and restored it part by part until it was even better than the original. “I ain’t sellin’ that fuckin’ car. It’s my baby.”
“No,” Rook pointed into the box, “that’s your fuckin’ baby.” He added a snort.
“I ain’t gettin’ rid of my car. It’s a fuckin’ classic and worth some scratch. And, anyway, we don’t even know this is my kid.”
“When you gonna get the DNA test?” Rook asked.
Cage looked up from staring at the infant, whose blue-gray eyes were open and staring at him. Her little legs moved whenever he spoke. Huh. That was not a good sign.
He pursed his lips as he considered the baby. “Don’t know. Today? Got no idea where to go.”
“Well, I bought a car seat,” Reilly announced. “You’ll have to figure out how to latch it into the Chevy. I left it out there with a bunch of other shit I bought for now. Someone needs to go out and bring the rest in. Plus, I’ll bet she’ll want a bottle soon. I got a bunch of formula. However, I don’t know shit about babies. Maybe we need some help from someone who does. And by we, I mean you, Cage.” She shot him a big grin.
Great. “Like who? Red?”
Rook shook his head. “Fuck no. She ain’t ready to deal with an infant yet, stupid ass.”
“Reilly? You can learn,” Cage suggested.
“I’m not taking care of someone else’s kid,” she huffed. “If I wanted to take care of a baby, I’d have one of my own.”
“That’s just fuckin’ selfish, woman.”
“Fuck you. You trying to pawn off your own offspring is selfish. You made it, you take care of it.”
“We don’t even know she’s mine! A note ain’t no proof.” He groaned.
“Got an idea,” Dutch growled.
Thank fuck. “Yeah?”
“How ‘bout you take care of your own fuckin’ kid. Just like I had to take care of you two knuckleheads after your fuckin’ useless momma left.”
Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC Book 5) Page 4