She tucked the bottle securely under the stroller seat and took one last spin around the interior to take in the details and, as she did so, one of the double doors on the side opened just a crack and someone slipped inside.
Not just anyone.
Ry.
Her nephew was sneaking into church. That made no sense since he lived here. He didn’t need to sneak anywhere.
“Hey!” she called out, causing him to visibly startle and spin toward her with wide eyes.
He quickly schooled his oh-shit face. “Uh... Hey, Aunt Jemma!” He sounded a little too enthusiastic to see an aunt he’d only met recently.
She smiled and rolled Dyna closer. She’d head out through the same door Ry just entered. “Just Jemma. You don’t need to add the ‘aunt.’”
He nodded and scrubbed his fingers nervously over his short hair. He was so clean-cut compared to the rest of the men on this property. Not one tattoo, short, neat hair, and he looked comfortable wearing a turquoise polo shirt with khaki shorts.
Both fit him well. He wasn’t as gangly as Judge had been at that age. He was very handsome and solid. She could see girls chasing him.
Or boys. Whatever he was into.
Well, at least she knew now Angel wasn’t bringing Ry a smorgasbord of food and pussy to his bed. She would have a little discussion with Judge to make sure the sweet butts were told to stay hands-off with his son.
“So... Where are you coming from?” And why do you look so guilty?
He glanced nervously over his shoulder at the now closed door. “Uh... nowhere.”
“Nowhere, huh?” She raised both eyebrows and watched him closely.
“I... I was just checking to see if my dad was home.”
“He’s probably working.”
Her nephew’s Adam’s apple shot up his throat and then dropped like a rock.
She pursed her lips and studied him. “Was Cassie home?”
“N-no. She went to work.”
“Ah, yes. Most people are at work right now. So, was anyone home?”
“Only... uh...” Color tinged Ry’s cheeks.
While Jemma had to smother her smile at his reaction at being busted, she also became a tad concerned. “Only...” she prodded.
“Only... Saylor. She told me Dad wasn’t home.”
“You didn’t know that before going over?”
“I texted him to ask, but he didn’t answer.”
Or Judge did answer to tell Ry he wasn’t home, giving Ry the head’s up that the coast was clear.
Jemma had met Rev’s younger sister, Saylor, at dinner the other night. Her brother’s house mouse was very pretty but way more experienced in life than Ry. Not only with the topics she talked about, but how she dressed and did her makeup. Her nephew reminded her of a boy, while Saylor looked like she had a penchant for trouble. It was one reason Judge and Cassie took her on and into their home. Saylor needed to learn responsibility and Daisy, along with the housekeeping duties, was enough to keep her busy and keep her out of that trouble.
For the most part.
While all the Fury members were warned not to touch Saylor, not just by Judge but by Rev, Jemma wondered if Judge had told his son the same. Because it wasn’t hard to miss that Ry only had eyes for Saylor all during the dinner at Lottie’s. Jemma wasn’t the only one who noticed. Judge did, too.
While both kids were eighteen, they seemed years apart in life experience. Jen must have sheltered Ry. While Saylor had spent time in juvie.
Not the best start for a teenaged girl.
Living with Cassie and Judge would help give her a good foundation to move on from her troubled past. But really, Saylor was legally an adult. She could do whatever she wanted.
Jemma wondered if Saylor wanted to do Ry. Because no doubt remained that Ry wanted to do Saylor.
She hated to be the one to tattletale to Judge about Ry sneaking over to his house when he and Cassie weren’t home, but she also didn’t want Ry stuck with a surprise baby, like Dyna.
He needed to get his degree first, get settled into a good career before he got saddled with a family, which could possibly derail his plans if it happened before it was time.
Jemma was the first in the Scott family to get a college education. She wanted Ry to be the second. The kid had a lot of potential.
Ry seemed poised to sprint toward the bunkhouse to escape his aunt’s questions. She didn’t blame him since she remembered what it was like to be a horny teenager. She had been eighteen herself only nine years prior.
“Ry—” The start of her please-be-careful lecture was interrupted by a crying Dyna. Someone was awake and most likely hungry.
She pulled Dyna from the carrier hooked into the stroller base and straightened out the baby’s onesie, which today read: Warning! Protected by a Biker Grandpa, with a picture of a motorcycle, of course.
It was easy to figure out who bought that one. Especially since Dutch had taken a black Sharpie and drawn a top rocker on the back of it, filling it in with the name “Duchess.”
She was sure Cage just loved that fact, since he grimaced every time Dutch called her that. But then, so did Jemma.
As Dyna continued to cry softly, Jemma knew it would become an angry wail soon if she didn’t get her fed. But instead of rushing back to the trailer, she stepped up to Ry and forced him to take her.
“Make sure you support her head and neck.” She moved his hands to where they needed to be, then stepped back, watching his expression turn panicked.
Dyna would be a great reminder of what could happen if he wasn’t careful. She had no idea if Ry knew the truth of his own conception. Most likely, he didn’t.
Judge was still pissed about Jen trapping him by poking holes in his condoms, but Jemma doubted he’d ever tell his son what a real piece of shit his mother had been.
Ry probably learned some of it when he found out his “dead” father was very much alive and his mother had lied about it for eighteen years. He’d also found all the text messages and listened to all the voicemails Judge had left for his son over the years, hoping Ry would contact him.
So, yeah, after Ry’s mother died, he discovered some of the truth. But not all of it and maybe not about the whole condom sabotage. There was no point in bringing that up at this point in Ry’s life. Unless it could be used as a lesson.
Both Dyna and Ry’s existence were hard lessons on how condoms could fail. Either on purpose or by accident.
Ry looked like a deer in headlights ready to get plastered by an eighteen-wheeler. He’d probably prefer that to holding a still crying Dyna.
Good.
“Bounce her gently to try to soothe her. Rub her back, too.” Jemma knew that probably wouldn’t help since Dyna was ready to eat and wasn’t just being fussy. “Now, hum or sing to her a little bit... She’s a good lesson of what not to do, Ry. You have college and your whole future ahead of you. Don’t screw that up.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed again. “I... I wasn’t...”
“Right.” She gave him a smile. “I’m in the trailer by the shed. You can always stop by to talk if you need to. I’m not only your aunt but I’m also a nurse. If you have a question, I’ll do my best to answer it. I know losing your mom like that had to be hard.”
His expression went blank. “Yes, it was difficult.” His answer was robotic as if he was used to saying it automatically. “I miss her.”
“I’m sure you do,” she murmured, finding it weird his words lacked any sadness. His mother didn’t die long ago, so it still should be very fresh.
If Jemma let it, she could still cry while thinking about Walter. Especially with how he suffered toward the end. It had been heartbreaking.
She was sure Jen’s death had been difficult for a teenager, too. From what Ry told Judge, Jen had died from lung cancer. She was a heavy smoker her whole adult life and that habit got her in the end. It also left a barely-baked boy without a mother.
Not that Jen was a perfect one. But
Ry was a good, clean-cut kid, so his mother had to do something right.
“I miss Walt. He was like a father to me. I wish he could’ve gotten to know you. He’d be super proud of you heading to college and I know Lottie is, too. And it’s also important to your dad. Even though you didn’t know he was alive all these years, he knew you were and loved you the second you were born. He wanted nothing more than to be your father.”
And your fucking bitch of a mother robbed him of that chance.
The same could’ve happened to Cage. If Dyna’s maternal family had given the baby away to someone in their community, Cage would’ve never known he had a daughter and Dyna would’ve never known her father.
But at least in that case, Cage wouldn’t be pining away for a child he knew nothing about. Not like Judge, who knew, and everything he did to try to be in his son’s life failed.
Cage would’ve been blissfully unaware.
Ry still looked absolutely miserable holding Dyna, so Jemma took pity on him and took her back. The baby immediately began to root at her boob and get frustrated.
It was time to go.
Jemma settled Dyna back in the stroller and before she wheeled the baby back to the trailer, she paused and reached up to cup her nephew’s cheek, because even at eighteen he was much taller than her. If he wasn’t already as tall as Judge, he would be soon.
“Thank you for giving your father a chance, Ry. You don’t know how much that means to him. And me. I’m here for you if you ever need anything. Please, please, please don’t hesitate to come to me, or even Deacon. You’re blood. Don’t forget that.”
Ry pinned his lips together and nodded.
“And don’t worry, I won’t snitch to Judge that you visited Saylor today. Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
A look of relief crossed his face and a small smile curled his lips. “I promise.”
Jemma dropped her hand from his face and grabbed the stroller handles.
“I’m going to hold you to that. Now, get the door for me, please.”
As soon as he did, Jemma took a now wailing Dyna back to the trailer to get her belly full.
Chapter Eleven
Cage parked his sled in the shed, pulled what he brought home from his saddlebag and headed out of the open garage door toward his trailer.
Their trailer.
He needed to start looking for something more permanent. He just wished he had more money to do so. They’d only been in the trailer for two weeks and Dutch wasn’t bugging him about finding something else. At least, not yet. But Cage knew it would be coming.
He was still borrowing the Honda, the shop’s loaner, too.
Dutch may not be bitching about the trailer rent, but he’d been bitching about the Honda. Everyone at the shop used it during the day to run for lunch or parts, or whatever, but Dutch didn’t have a loaner to offer his long-time customers when Cage needed it.
Since Cage didn’t have the money to buy a car, he and Rook had scoured the yard to find something in half-decent shape they could fix up after hours.
Rook suggested he sell the Impala. Doing so would make Cage flush for a while. But his brother also said he should leave that option as a last resort, since he knew Cage would never be able to recover close to the amount he’d invested in just parts alone.
But, with his ribs not bothering him as much, he was back to riding his sled and only needed the Honda when he had to take Dyna somewhere. With Jemma around, she hauled his daughter in the Volvo to places like the pediatrician while Cage worked.
However, he knew, like the trailer, Jemma was only temporary.
He needed to get his shit together and at least make a plan, not only for a permanent home but for when Jemma left. She’d been sending out resumes and having phone, as well as virtual, interviews. He couldn’t imagine her being unemployed long.
That scared the shit out of him.
Knowing Dyna was in her capable hands during the day helped him concentrate at work. But he didn’t want to take advantage of Jemma by getting a second job, even if it was bartending at Pete’s part-time. He couldn’t stick her with Dyna for longer hours when she wasn’t even earning any scratch to do it as it was.
He was just relieved she took the day shift and most times she’d help him with the nightshift. Even though he never asked. If she helped him during the evening or night, it was because she wanted to or maybe because she felt sorry for him being so in over his head.
Too many times he’d sit on the couch with a crying Dyna, not knowing what she needed, and was close to crying along with her. When he’d almost be at his breaking point, Jemma would swoop in and save his sanity.
She seemed to have the golden touch with his daughter.
Since the evening wasn’t too humid, she sat outside the trailer with Dyna on a blanket in front of her. His daughter was getting stronger every day. He wasn’t sure if he’d be excited or scared once she was mobile. At least now, she couldn’t get into trouble on her own.
Jemma looked relaxed in one of the plastic Adirondack chairs Deacon and Judge had brought over. They had also dropped off an old grill and a couple small plastic tables and helped Jemma set up a little outdoor area to hang out at. While the pavilion wasn’t far, it was nice to be close to the trailer in case of a necessary feeding or diaper change.
All the outdoor area needed now was a pop-up tent or an awning to protect them from the rain and sun when they sat outside. He spent time out there to smoke, have a beer or toke on a joint when his nerves were shot.
How anyone survived raising a kid and kept all their hair, he had no fucking clue. But a few hits on a bowl, or joint, and a beer helped. He just kept it to a minimum while he was on Dyna-duty, and did his best to not partake at all if Jemma wasn’t around.
So, most of the time he and the rest of the guys at the shop, including Dutch, shared a bowl or bong out back at lunchtime. Doing so grounded him and kept him from hopping in his Impala, spinning the tires out of the garage lot and never coming back. Because every time he thought he was getting a handle on taking care of his baby, life punched him in the nuts and fucking cackled like an evil witch.
As soon as he got home, Jemma usually bailed on them, so she was gone a lot.
Most nights she’d make a plate for him before she left, or leave a meal in the borrowed crockpot, then head somewhere else for dinner. Sometimes Lottie’s, other times she’d walk over to Judge and Cassie’s. She had gone to Mansfield to have dinner with Deacon and Reese twice already.
Her and Reilly even went to Dino’s Diner the other night. They were close in age and, at the shop the next day, Reilly told him she’d had a blast hanging out with Judge’s sister. She wore a huge smile as she told Cage how Jemma was a lot of fun. She confessed they hit Crazy Pete’s afterward to sing Karaoke, shoot some pool and drink some beer. Afterward, Jemma took Reilly home to The Grove Inn since she didn’t have her own set of wheels yet.
Cage had no idea why Jemma didn’t stick around to eat with him, but after spending all day taking care of a baby who wasn’t hers, he couldn’t blame her for taking a break.
Did he like it? No.
Could he bitch about it? Fuck no.
He wasn’t going to say or do anything that would push Jemma away. He needed her too badly.
For fuck’s sake, more like desperately.
So, he was smart and kept his fucking trap shut.
As he approached, she said, “You’re late. Your shift started a while ago. I’m now on OT.”
“Good thing I’m not payin’ you, then.” Sure, he was late but he had a good reason.
“Oh yeah, good thing.” Her words dripped with sarcasm. Her gaze dropped to what he carried. “What’s that?”
He grabbed the eyehook he’d welded to the top and let the rest of the mobile fall free.
Jemma’s gasp and her slapping a hand over her mouth made him ask, “What?”
Did he fuck up?
“A mobile,” she whispered,
getting to her feet. She took the last couple steps to bring her close and her eyes were suspiciously shiny.
What the fuck?
“I’ve never seen one like that,” she breathed.
Of course not, it was custom made. “Reilly said Dyna needs a mobile for above the crib to keep her from bein’ dumb like me.” She had been fucking with him, but knew he’d do anything to help Dyna’s development. “She’s been lookin’ online at all kinda baby shit and tryin’ to spend scratch I don’t fuckin’ have. Figured I’d stay a little late today and make one. Rev helped ‘cause he’s also good with weldin’ and cuttin’ metal.”
His blood began to rush as Jemma reached out and touched the aluminum mobile. He’d used the light, shiny metal to make the pendants that would hang above the crib and would catch Dyna’s eye and help her focus. He’d cut out decorative snowflakes, clouds, stars, and crescent moons.
Jemma spun it and the pieces clinked together lightly making a tinkling noise.
It wasn’t one of those battery-operated ones Reilly wanted him to get where the dangly things were made of cloth and it spun on its own, but it would have to do for now. Something was better than nothing. And maybe one day his daughter could use it for her daughter.
He struggled to swallow at that thought.
Sarah was someone’s daughter, too. What if the same thing happened to Dyna? She innocently flirted with a man, then got caught up in the moment, like he and Sarah had done, and she came home knocked up?
His nostrils flared and his jaws clenched.
He’d fucking kill the bastard.
He squeezed his eyes shut. The bastard was him.
“Hey,” Jemma whispered, her fingers sliding over his forearm, the one not holding the mobile.
He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and shook it off.
He could see some conflict in her expression and eyes, so he drew a blank mask over his own face.
After studying him for a few seconds, she asked, “How did you get so much detail?”
Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC Book 5) Page 15