Chapter 1

“What have I told you about trying to fuck me over?” Trick was at the end of his patience. He’d come here today with the knowledge that nothing his lawyer said would change his mind. Today was the day his association with Bill Cranston would end.

“I assure you that I am not trying to fuck you over, as you like to put it.” The pompous ass sat behind his desk, fiddling with an ink pen that probably cost a couple hundred bucks, acting like he wasn’t shitting bricks right now. Trick could see the first signs that the lawyer wasn’t as impervious to his temper as he’d like Trick to believe. A fine sheen of sweat broke out across his forehead and a twitch was starting under his eye.

“Oh, really? Then why, after eighteen months, am I paying more to my ex-wife than when I started? Why do I not have more visitation with my children? Why have I been paying you out the ass to get me custody of my kids?” Trick sat in a chair on the opposite side of Cranston’s desk. Jackson sat in the chair next to him, cleaning under his fingernails with his knife. A very big, sharp knife that his lawyer kept sneaking peeks at.

Trick had planned to take care of this by himself, but Jackson had wanted to tag along. He’d said he was bored and thought it would be fun to fuck with the lawyer, so Trick had told him, “Sure, come on.”

He was so done dealing with this dickhead of a lawyer. The man had done absolutely nothing to help him get custody of his kids. He’d tried to give the prick the benefit of a doubt when he told him it was all part of playing the game as he’d been forced to pay for court costs, Cranston’s ridiculous fees and quite frankly, fees he thought Cranston was just making up. There were also all the court delays, and canceled appointments that were driving him over the edge. Trick kept telling himself “it’s part of the process” and “it’ll take time.” What added insult to injury was when the court said he had to pay for Michelle’s attorney fees, too.

No. More.

“Cranston, we are done. You’ve jacked me around for way too long and you’ve gotten me zero results. I keep telling you things with her are spiraling out of control and I’m worried about the welfare of my kids and you have fuck all to say or do about it. Not one time have you gotten anything to swing my way.” Trick leveled his stare on his lawyer. “Give me copies of everything in my file.”

“Wh-what?” the sleazy guy sputtered. “What do you mean?”

“It means you’re fired, motherfucker,” Jackson growled as he shot out of his chair and buried the tip of his blade in the very expensive mahogany desk. “He wants a copy of all his records so he doesn’t have to go through all this shit again. Understand?”

“I’m fired?” Cranston went from being nervous to pissed off at the very idea that he was being dismissed. His lips pinched together as he looked down his beak-like nose.

“Yeah. Fired. Give me a copy of my file. I’m not leaving here without it.” Trick stood and leaned over the desk, getting in the lawyer’s face.

Cranston leaned back in his expensive chair, trying to put distance between them. “If you want a copy of your file, it will take a couple of days for my secretary to copy it and get it mailed out to you. There will be a fee, of course.”

The sleazeball thought to stick it to him one more time, did he? Trick slowly made his way around the desk so that he was standing next to Cranston. He swung him around to face him, then leaned down to rest his hands on the arms of the chair. A cold, deadly smirk spread across his face. A clear indication that Trick had reached his limit. The man’s cocky smile faltered for just a moment.

“Let’s get something straight, Cranston. See this patch on my cut?” He waited for the man’s eyes to drift to the Sons of Redemption MC patch and back up to Trick’s eyes. “You should know better than to fuck with the Sons of Redemption. You fuck with one, you fuck with them all.”

Jackson appeared behind the attorney, jamming his knife into the desk’s surface again, this time right next to the lawyer’s arm, causing him to jump. “It just pisses me off when someone fucks with one of my brothers,” he growled in Cranston’s ear.

“I’ve let you fuck me around for the last eighteen months, and I’ll take part of the blame for that for letting you get by with it for so long.” He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping deeper. “It stops now.”

“Found your file.” Jackson picked up the file and handed it to Trick.

“I’m taking this with me and I’m not paying for this office visit. I’m not paying you jack shit ever again. If you even think about trying to fuck with me, I’ll be back.” The implied “and you won’t like it” wasn’t lost on the man. Trick dropped a picture on the desk and followed Jackson to the door. He turned just before he would have walked through to give Cranston one more thing to think about. “Be a good boy. For their sakes.”

Satisfied by the way Cranston’s face bleached white as he got a good look at his wife and children playing in the park, Trick felt his message was delivered.

He saluted the secretary with his file and left the building. “Should’ve done that a long time ago,” he mumbled as he walked next to Jackson. At his bike, he placed his file in one of his saddlebags, then checked his phone. “Damn it.”

“What?” Jackson swung a leg over his bike.

“Gotta message from Michelle telling me I better not be late picking up the kids.” He checked the time and saw he had just enough time to go home, trade his bike for his truck and get to his ex’s. “Thanks again for riding along.”

“Not a problem.” Jackson smiled. “You know how I like to fuck with people.”

On his ride to his small little two-bedroom house he now called his home, he had to calm himself down. Between dealing with Cranston and Michelle, his mood was shot all to hell. Hopefully, things with the leech were done and over with because things with his ex wouldn’t be over with for a long time. After his kids turned eighteen, he’d never have to deal with her again. He lived for that day.

—

Trick pulled the truck that he’d bought from his dad after the divorce to a stop at the curb in front of what used to be his house. It was a 2014 Ford F150 4×4. Sure, it was eight years old, but his dad had taken excellent care of the truck as evidenced by the shiny, mirror-like black exterior and the equally immaculate dark gray leather interior. It had around 75,000 miles on it when he’d gotten it and it still ran like it was brand new. His dad always said, “If you take care of your vehicle, it’ll take care of you.” He completely agreed because that was the way Trick had always taken care of his bike.

He shut his truck off and took a deep breath to bolster his patience and sent up a prayer that he was able to get the kids quickly without the drama their mother tended to throw his way every chance she got. Making his way to the front door, he absently noted the grass needed to be cut. He made a mental note to have the high school kid down the street get on that. When he’d first left, he had come over the first couple of times to do it himself, but quickly found getting his ass chewed the entire time he was cutting the grass wasn’t worth it. That’s when he hired the kid down the street to take care of it for him.

He couldn’t help it; every time he had to come to this house, the house he continued to pay for but his ex got in the divorce, a deep burning started up deep in his gut. She was awarded the house with the stipulation she had to get a job and make the payment herself. The problem with that was she had no desire to work when she knew Trick would make the payments so his kids would have a roof over their heads. She also knew he wouldn’t risk her moving into a shady part of town if he quit paying for it.

For his kids he would do anything. Apparently, even eat shit.

That was another thing that stuck in his craw. She’d gotten primary custody of their kids, Keegan and Reagan, which left him with seeing them every Wednesday and every other weekend. Despite the fact that she liked to dump them on him whenever she felt the need for a break—which was getting to be more and more frequently—he was paying a whack in child support. His lawyer said it was the best they could do because no judge was going to award full custody to a man belonging to a biker gang. It didn’t matter that he was a more fit parent or not.

He didn’t mind Michelle calling at a moment’s notice to come get the kids because for him, they were his whole world. He would die if he wasn’t able to see them. He just hated that in order to get his kids as often as he did, he had to keep paying the same amount of child support no matter that he had them more than he was supposed to or she’d threaten to take him back to court and get it increased. Between his ex and his fucking no good attorney, he was getting fucked six ways to Sunday.

He couldn’t complain about the money or take her to court to reduce the child support because she’d get pissy and would never let him see his kids outside of his appointed days. So far Trick felt it was worth the aggravation and expense to see his kids. He crossed his fingers this new attorney could help him or he and his kids might just have to disappear.

Halfway to the door, it swung open and his kids raced out. Over their heads he could see Michelle dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans shorts and a tank with no bra. Her hair was up in a ponytail and he could see her pinched mouth from where he was standing. What the fuck did he do now? You know, it wouldn’t bug the shit out of him half as much if she didn’t still look as good as when they first met. He’d fallen back under her spell one time after they were divorced and that’s how they ended up with Reagan.

Speaking of which, his baby girl was running at him full out, dragging her backpack of toys behind her. Her huge smile reminded him why he put up with all the shit Michelle put him through. He bent and scooped her up, causing her to giggle. “There’s my beautiful girl!” He settled her little bottom on his bent arm and held her backpack in his other hand. “Miss me?”

“Yes, Daddy! Missed you lots!” She grabbed him by the cheeks and gave him a big wet kiss on his forehead.

As was the norm for his baby girl, she was dressed in her princess clothes. Today she was in a baby blue with white trim dress and sparkly silver tennis shoes. Knowing full well who she was dressed as today, he asked, “So, Princess Fiona, you ready to go get something to eat?” He mentally shook his head and laughed at himself. Never in a million years would he have guessed he’d know the name of every princess that ever graced the TV screen.

“Daddy!” she squealed. “I’m not Princess Fiona, she’s an ogre! I’m Cinderella!” She said the last like she couldn’t believe he didn’t know the difference.

“Uh, you’re right. My bad.” He waited for Keegan to mosey his way toward them. By mosey, he meant the kid had the same swagger as his old man. His heart swelled with the knowledge that they had something so small in common. It also made him immensely happy to know his boy looked just like him, from his blond hair to his coffee brown eyes. Hell, the kid was even built like him at that age.

“Keegan!” Michelle stopped him before he could get halfway across the yard. He turned to see her waving a paper at him and went back for it. She said something to him, he nodded, not looking happy and turned to leave again. “Make sure you give that to your dad!” she shouted after him, like the kid would forget between the door and where Trick stood.

When Keegan pulled up alongside him, he ruffled his son’s hair and greeted him. “Hey, Keegan. You good?”

His son nodded his head and kept his eyes forward, mumbling under his breath, “Yeah. Good, Dad.”

Trick didn’t believe him, but he’d give him that for the amount of time it would take to fasten Reagan in her car seat in the backseat, make sure Keegan was buckled into the front seat and make his way around the front of the truck and get in. He drove in silence for a few minutes, listening to his girl jabbering in the backseat as she played with her princess Barbies. He chanced a glance in his son’s direction and what he saw depressed the hell out of him. Keegan sat quietly looking out the side window, a frown on his face and what looked like the weight of the world on his small shoulders. There was something on his mind and he was debating on whether or not to talk to his dad. Trick thought he’d make it easier on him. “What’s eating you?”

After a few long seconds, he replied, “You missed Open House.”

Trick’s grip tightened around the steering wheel as he gritted his teeth so hard, he feared he might break one. That fucking bitch didn’t tell him. Big surprise. “Sorry. I didn’t know about it or I would’ve been there. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. I do.” He turned to look at Trick. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No, buddy, she didn’t. When was it?”

“Tuesday night.”

Trick tried to always be there for his kids no matter what. If they were sick, he’d take them to the doctor and nurse them back to health because Michelle didn’t have the patience to “deal” with them. If it was something pertaining to school, he was there for Open House, conferences, plays, concerts. Whatever the situation, he would always be there for his kids. He didn’t care if he was balls deep in a sweet butt, if they needed him, he was there. Nothing mattered more to him than Keegan and Reagan.

He dreaded asking the question, but Trick needed to know. “How was your mom at Open House?”

Keegan sighed heavily, looking out the side window. “Her dress was too short and her boobs were hanging out. It was embarrassing.”

Yeah, that would do it. It pissed him off to no end that Michelle couldn’t just once show up at a school function looking like a normal mom and not some white trash ho looking to get laid. “I’m sorry about that. Was she drinking before she took you?” She sure as fuck better not have been drinking and driving with his kids in the car. He’d told her on more than one occasion that it was not gonna fly.

When she’d gotten in an accident because she ran off the road and banged up her car and he’d had to go bail her out of jail, the only thing that kept him from snapping her neck was the fact that his kids were with him at the time. He’d had his mom come sit with them while he took care of Michelle. The car had sustained some body damage but the air bag hadn’t deployed. She’d gotten off lucky with only a knot on her forehead from where it had hit the steering wheel. He had gotten stuck with the repair bill.

Fuck, he was tired of dealing with her shit and he was tired of all his money going to her.

He watched Keegan hesitate, knowing it was hard for his son to rat his mom out because he loved her despite how much she’d been fucking up lately.

“Keegan?”

“She had a beer before she took me to Open House, but she wasn’t drunk. She was going out with Aunt Patty afterward.”

Trick was not a big fan of Aunt Patty. She was Michelle’s older sister who was constantly sticking her nose into everyone’s business. She was always goading Michelle, telling her she needed to “live a little more” which translated to them going out partying with the money he gave his ex to take care of his kids. Bitch.

“So, I guess you guys went to Grandma Lynn’s?” At least at Michelle’s mom’s he knew they’d be safe and taken care of. His ex-mother-in-law wasn’t anymore happy about the way things were turning out with either of her daughters than he was. She was constantly telling Michelle she needed to grow up, get a job and take better care of her kids. She would also tell her to quit listening to her older sister because she was constantly getting into trouble and looking for someone to bail her out. To hear Patty tell it, things were never her fault.

“Um,” Keegan stalled out.

“Um, what? Tell me, Keegan.”

“No. Grandma Lynn had Bingo.” Keegan started chewing his bottom lip and absently rubbing a hand up and down his pant leg.

Trick knew, deep in his gut, he wasn’t going to like the answer. “If you didn’t stay with Grandma Lynn and your mom went out with Aunt Patty, where were you and your sister?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

When Keegan still hedged, Trick reached over and took his son’s hand in his own, giving a reassuring squeeze. “Son, just tell me. You won’t be in any trouble. I promise.”

“Westayedhomealone,” he quickly blurted.

It took Trick a second to process what his son had rushed to spit out. Surely he didn’t say what he thought he heard? They stayed home? Alone? He cleared his throat and had to force his anger down in order to get the answer to his questions. “Are you telling me you and Reagan stayed home alone?”

“Yeah, Dad. We did.” Keegan’s response was so quiet, Trick almost missed it.

Fuck me. His kids were home alone while their drunk of a mother was out whoring around? His chest felt tight from holding his breath too long. “Why didn’t you call me? I would have come to get you guys.”

“I couldn’t. Mom took her phone with her.” The more they talked about the situation, the more upset Keegan was getting. “And I didn’t want to go outside to go use Mrs. Middleton’s phone. It was dark. And Reagan was scared.”

At the stoplight, Trick moved his hand to gently squeeze his son’s neck. He gave him a little shake to get his attention. “Look at me. Buddy, I am not mad at you.” He was, however, furious with Michelle. What was the woman thinking, leaving an eight-year-old in charge of a four-your-old? “You did the right thing by not going outside in the dark.” The light turned green and Trick drove on. “You kept the doors locked, right?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Good boy.” He gave a turn signal and made a right. Fuck, he wanted to hit something so bad right now he could barely stand it.

So as not to freak his son out, Trick had to remain calm on the outside while on the inside he was a ranting, raving lunatic wanting to get his hands on his ex. He had to make sure this never happened again. But how? He thought about it for a moment then got an idea.

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. Sometime this weekend before I take you guys home, we’ll go buy you a phone.” At the way Keegan’s face lit up, he continued. “It is not to be something you play with. It is only for emergencies or any time you or Reagan need to talk to me. I need you to keep it somewhere safe in your room and I don’t want you to let your mom know you have it. Can you do that? Keep that secret from your mom? Because I gotta say the thought of you and your sister home alone kinda freaks me the hell out. If that ever happens again, you call me immediately. You hear me?”

“Yeah, Dad. I hear you. And I can keep a secret.”

Damn it. He couldn’t watch Michelle 24/7. Every minute Keegan and Reagan spent with their mom, he had this gnawing fear that something would happen to them and he wouldn’t be there. If he could only get sole custody of them, he could finally quit worrying.

It killed him that his kids had been in that house all by themselves. He didn’t have to guess that she’d come home late and the kids had probably already put themselves to bed. More than likely, Keegan had put Reagan to bed and then climbed in bed with her. He’d feel responsible for keeping his sister safe. He was a fucking kid and had the responsibility of a teenager because of his mom. Fucking bitch.

He tipped his head toward the paper in Keegan’s hand, changing the subject for now. There was no point in talking about what a disappointment Michelle was as a mother to his eight-year-old son. He was sure it weighed heavily on Keegan’s mind without his dad adding to it. He knew for a fact that she bad-mouthed him to both of their kids on a regular basis because she’d done it in front of him. “What’s that?”

“School supply list.”

Trick pulled his truck into Jackson and Calliope’s driveway and shut it off. He held out his hand for the list, folded it up and shoved it into the pocket inside his cut.

“And I’m supposed to let you know that Reagan’s daycare needs money.”

Not for the first time, Trick wondered where the hell all the money went that he paid her to take care of his kids? He paid her enough to pay the electric, the water, the cable, as well as to feed and clothe his kids. There was no way in hell she didn’t have enough to pay the daycare. Fuck that. It wasn’t in the divorce decree that he had to pay her specifically for daycare, so he was going to just start paying for it directly to the daycare. Michelle wouldn’t like it, probably even threaten to tell her lawyer, which he would inevitably end up paying for, too. Let her. He was done with this shit.

Blessedly not privy to his mind’s inner thoughts, Keegan unbuckled his seatbelt and asked, “Jackson and Calliope’s?”

“Yup. Calliope cooked dinner.”

“Salisbury steak and gravy?” Keegan’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, I think that’s what she said,” Trick teased.

“All right!” Keegan cheered. Trick couldn’t blame him. Calliope’s Salisbury steak with gravy was that good.

“All right!” Reagan cheered from the back. She didn’t understand what they were cheering about, but his girl was happy if they were happy. He watched her smiling and kicking her feet in excitement. Her sparkling silver shoes reflected the sunlight, causing it to look like a disco ball on the roof of his truck. He and Keegan both glanced up and started to laugh.

“You all coming in or what?” Jackson asked from Trick’s side window, causing him to jump and Keegan to yelp. Sneaky bastard.

“Yeah. Yeah. We’re coming,” he replied and unfastened his seatbelt. While he was getting himself out and Keegan was doing the same on his side, Jackson had gone around the back of the truck and gotten Reagan out.

“How’s Princess Reagan doing today?” Jackson asked. She sat perched on his arm the same way Trick had carried her earlier. Her eyes sparkled and her smile blinded everyone around her. He loved that his girl was such a happy child. She charmed everyone she ever came in contact with.

“Good. I got a new Barbie since the last time I saw you. See.” Reagan held the red-haired doll close enough to Jackson’s face, it almost made the man’s eyes cross. He was able to pull it far enough away to get a look at it and smiled back at her. “I see. Nice Barbie, but she’s still not as pretty as you.” He dug his fingers into her sides, causing her to squeal with laughter as they walked to the front door.

“Princess Reagan!” Calliope greeted his girl. She was coming from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Ryker followed behind her eating a carrot stick. Not a baby carrot, but a full-sized carrot. It was the funniest thing Trick had seen in a long time.

“Hey, Keegan. Did you grow some more since the last time I saw you?” Calliope ruffled his hair playfully.

His boy’s cheeks turned a light pink and he ducked his head, trying to hide his smile. Did his boy have a crush on Jackson’s woman? He pushed his son farther into the room so he could shut the door behind him.

“Hey, Trick.” Calliope included him in her greetings.

“Hey, Calliope. Smells good in here.”

“Thanks. Come on in. You want a beer?” she tossed over her shoulder on her way back into the kitchen.

“Yeah, that’d be great, but I’ll get it myself.” Trick went to the refrigerator and pulled out a long neck.

“Grab one for me while you’re in there,” Jackson said, following the kids toward the back door. He turned them loose in the backyard to play until dinner was ready. He came back with a grin on his face.

“What?” Trick asked.

“Nothing. Just love the fact that Keegan isn’t too old to play with Ryker.” His son might be eight and Ryker four, but boys liked to play with boys. Jackson pulled out a chair and joined Trick at the table while Calliope continued to move around the kitchen getting dinner ready.

“What’s Reagan doing?” Trick asked before tipping his bottle back. Unlike his ex, he knew to only have one beer around his kids and that was it. After that, no more alcohol. Just water, tea, soda, juice or coffee. Really anything that didn’t have alcohol in it.

“She found a spot under the shade tree to set up and play with her Barbies.”

“She’s so adorable.” Calliope was watching the kids through the window above the sink, overlooking the backyard. Trick completely agreed. He wasn’t a fool, though. His little girl was so damn cute now, that he dreaded seeing how much prettier she would be as a teenager. It completely scared the bejeezus out of him.

“This your weekend to have the kids?” Jackson asked. He was kicked back in his chair, his long legs off to the side and crossed at his ankles.

“Yeah. And I just found out from Keegan that I missed Open House. Fucking Michelle didn’t even give me a heads up.” The more he thought about it, the more pissed he got again. “And to make matters worse for Keegan, she embarrassed him in front of his new teacher and some of his classmates.”

“Embarrassed him how?” Calliope asked, half turned toward the table.

“He said she wore a dress that was too short and her tits were hanging out.”

“He said tits?” Calliope’s brows rose to her hairline.

Trick chuckled. “No, I said tits. He said boobs.”

“Oh. Okay.” Calliope turned back around and pulled something off the stove and brought it to the sink to drain. Looked like the potatoes she was going to mash up.

“Things getting any better between the two of you? Do you still have the same attorney?” Calliope asked.

“No, things are not better between us and I don’t ever see things getting better as long as her sister, Patty, is in the picture. I also just found out that she left my kids home alone after the Open House so she and Patty could go out.” Trick could feel the steam coming off his head. If it didn’t explode, it would be a miracle.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She left them alone?” Surprisingly, that came from Calliope.

“Yeah. She left them alone.”

“What the fuck?” Jackson frowned, his eyes intense as they focused on Trick.

“I know. It fucking kills me they were left alone and I had no idea. My God, just thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong makes me want to throw up.” Trick fell back in his chair, his hands fisting on his legs.

“What are you going to do?” Jackson leaned forward.

“First, I’m going to buy Keegan a phone. I already talked to him about it. If she ever leaves them alone again, does something stupid while she’s drunk or if they just need to reach out to me, I want them to be able to call. She didn’t even leave her phone for them. What if there’d been an emergency? What if something happened to one of them and they had no way to call for help?” He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned as the possibilities flashed before his eyes.

“Dad-dy!” Reagan yelled down the hall. She came running around the corner, coming to a skidding halt right next to him. “I can’t get her clothes back on. Help me, pleeeasse.” Yep. His girl knew how to work him. He was fucked when she got older.

Trick took the doll from her in one hand and a tight looking dress in the other. “Sure, baby doll.” Having done this a million times, he pulled the way too short dress up the doll’s legs, slipped the arms through the holes and up over her shoulders. Then he pinned her face down on the table and had to pull the material tight and hold it with one hand, while he tried to velcro it with the other so it would stay on. He tried to smooth the skirt down, but it barely fit over the doll’s ass. Not for the first time, he wondered what the hell the manufacturer was thinking making a doll built like that with clothes that barely fit her. He handed it back to his daughter and watched her take off again.

“That was funny.” Calliope laughed.

“What?” Trick frowned.

“Watching a big bad biker dress a little Barbie doll,” she teased.

“I know. The first few times I ripped the dresses and had to buy her new ones. While I was looking through them at the store I swear all I saw were dresses that barely covered the doll’s ass. They might package them as doctors or veterinarians or whatever but they still all look like sweet butts.”

Jackson choked on his beer. “Damn. That was funny.”

“Dad-dy!” Reagan yelled down the hall again. She rounded the corner wanting him to dress another doll.

“Why don’t you let Uncle Jackson do it this time?”

Jackson took the doll. He mimicked Trick’s movement from watching him dress the other doll, only it took him a lot longer. He dropped the doll twice before he finally got it on her. His huge smile fell when Reagan said, “You put it on backwards, Uncle Jackson.”

“What?” Jackson looked to Trick.

“Yeah, it’s backwards. Turn it around,” Trick encouraged with a tip of his head.

Jackson turned the doll around and sure enough, the deep scoop meant to be in back was now in front, her boobs exposed for the world to see. “Son of a—”

He was cut off when Calliope shouted, “Uhn, uhn, uhn. Watch your language.” Calliope snatched it out of Jackson’s hand and fixed the dress for Reagan. “Here you go, sweetie.” She patted her on the head and laughed as Reagan raced down the hall again, heading back outside.

Hopefully, she was done changing outfits for a while. Some nights, he lost count of how many times he changed her dolls’ clothes.

“When does school start?” Calliope asked as she began setting the table.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s on the supply list.” He pulled out the list to check and see. “Fuck me.”

“What?” Jackson asked.

“It starts Monday.”

Michelle had fucked him again. Nothing like short notice. At least he knew when school started and he would be the one dropping Keegan off his first day. The last thing the poor kid needed was being dropped off and walked to the door by a mom nursing a hangover.

—

Trick kissed his son on top of his head. “Night, Keegan. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Dad.” Keegan scooted farther down under the covers before he asked, “Are we still spending the night with Uncle Owen tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, bud. You guys are still spending the night with Uncle Owen. Aunt Bridgette has been begging me to let you both come visit for a night. They all miss seeing you. It’s been a while.”

Keegan’s smile lit up his face right before he yawned. “I can’t wait to play with Aiden and Neil.”

“Yeah, she said they were looking forward to having you over, too.” He tussled his hair and moved to kiss his little princess goodnight. Thanks to his bitch ex-wife, his kids had to share a room whenever they visited with him. The house was half the size they lived in with their mom. He’d given them the bigger of the two rooms so both the twin beds would fit. Thankfully, they didn’t seem to mind sharing a room. They were just happy to be with their old man.

“Night baby girl. Love you.” He kissed her soft black curls.

“Love you, too, Daddy,” she replied in her sleepy little voice.

He turned off the lamp that sat on a nightstand between their two beds before he left to go. As was his habit, he left the bedroom door cracked enough that he could hear them if either one of them called for him during the night.

He used the one and only bathroom in the house, went and found a bottle of beer in the fridge, then plopped on the semi-comfortable couch to search for something on TV. He took a deep swig, set the bottle on the end table next to him and let his head fall back on the couch. The things he’d found out today from Keegan had him mentally exhausted. Trying to figure out the next dumb ass thing Michelle was going to do was like trying to catch a fish with your bare hands.

The thought that she left their two kids home alone with no way to get a hold of him infuriated him. Keegan was only eight years old and Reagan, fuck, his girl was only four What if the house had caught on fire? What if someone broke in? What if someone had broken in and taken his kids? Done something to them? He had to shut that way of thinking down fast or he might run his fist through the wall.

Things between him and Michelle had never been perfect, but they’d had a few good years. They may have started out under less than ideal conditions, but he really had loved her at one time.

He remembered meeting her at a Sons of Redemption MC party while he was home on leave. He’d been to several parties during his trips home over the years thanks to his best friend, Jackson West. Jackson grew up in the MC and immediately after graduation prospected for the club. It’s all he’d ever wanted and now he was a fully patched member. He was always trying to talk Trick into prospecting for the MC once he was finished with his time with Uncle Sam. Knowing he had only five months left, he had to admit he was leaning toward joining the motorcycle club. Their sense of brotherhood, loyalty and family spoke to him. It reminded him a lot of what he had with his fellow Marines. The thought of getting out and not having something similar to replace it with made him nervous. He’d done two tours and had seen and done things he never thought he would. Things were no longer black or white. Right and wrong were open to interpretation given the circumstances.

This time, like all the other times, Trick was staying with Jackson at his house while he was here. He could have stayed with his parents, but after being on his own, the thought of staying at home wasn’t as appealing. Although he didn’t stay with them when he was in town, he always made sure to spend plenty of time with them.

As Trick’s gaze slid over the crowded room, his eye caught on a woman with midnight black hair and enough curves to make things interesting. As he watched her in profile, she laughed at something someone said and shook her head. The longer he watched her the more he could tell she wasn’t the type that usually visited the Sons parties. She laughed and drank and appeared to be having a good time, but he imagined if she could leave, she’d do it. She was standing near one of the pool tables with two other women. One looked similar to her, but not nearly as pretty. A sister or a cousin if he had to guess.

She leaned over and said something in one of the women’s ear, who then pointed toward the hall. His guess was she was looking for the bathroom. She weaved her way through the crowd, several guys hitting on her along the way. Her smile was polite, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Go talk to her. Maybe you’ll get lucky. No one else has.” Jackson nudged his shoulder with his own.

“Naw. She’s shooting everyone down. Why would I be any different?” Trick’s focus was on the hallway hoping to get another glimpse of the dark-haired beauty.

“Pussy.” Jackson taunted him.

Trick knew Jackson was messing with him, but then he thought, what the hell? “Fine. If my pride gets hit it’s your fault.”

Moving to the mouth of the hall, he waited until he saw her coming out of the restroom before he took off in her direction. Her head was down and didn’t see him coming so when he accidentally-on-purpose ran into her, he almost knocked her down. Luckily, he grabbed her by her upper arms to keep her from stumbling backward and landing on her ass.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Trick waited until she was steady on her feet before he let her go. “I didn’t mean to knock you on your ass.”

Flustered, she looked up and replied, “It’s okay. I’m good.” His breath caught in his chest. Her eyes were such a shocking blue, he almost bet that they glowed. No way they could be real. While he’d been struck dumb, she’d stepped to the side and started to walk away. Probably out of his life forever, if he didn’t do something quick. “I lied,” he blurted desperately.

Slowly turning, she frowned in confusion. “What?”

Trick shoved his hands in his pockets. “I lied when I said I was sorry. I’m not.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I just had to see for myself.”

“See for yourself what?” She took a couple hesitant steps toward him. He’d gotten her attention.

“If your eyes were as pretty up close as they are across the room.” Yes, he was lying. He hadn’t really seen her eyes until he’d all but knocked her over, but he’d try just about anything to get her to stop and talk to him for just a little while. He took two steps closer to her. Back here in the hall it was quieter, but they still had to speak up to be heard. He could tell she didn’t know whether to believe him or not by the tentative way she addressed him. He counted it a win that she didn’t roll her eyes and tell him to fuck off yet.

She pushed a loose strand of the silkiest hair he’d ever seen behind her ear. He was dying to touch it and find out if it was really that soft.

“And?”

“They’re prettier up close.” His attention shifted from one eye to the other. “They damn near glow. I’m guessing contacts?”

“No. All me.” She crossed her arms under her tits, inadvertently showcasing them nicely. If she were anything like the usual women, he’d think the move was practiced to lure his eyes downward.

“No fucking way,” he laughed in surprise.

Instead of taking offense, she smiled and nodded her head. “Yeah. All me. Got them from my dad.”

There was a moment of silence between them as they continued to take each other in. Someone stumbled out of a door down the hall behind them. He looked over his shoulder to see if was one of the club brothers, closely followed by a blonde woman.

He turned back to the beautiful woman. “What’s your name?”

“Michelle.”

“I’m Trick. Well, Patrick, but everyone calls me Trick.” He extended his hand, holding his breath until she took it and shook it.

“Nice to meet you, Trick.” She let go of his hand and glanced behind her. “I guess I need to get back.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder.

“Want to get a drink and sit outside?”

“Um. Sure. Sounds good.”

Trick took her by the hand and led her to the bar, got them both drinks, then found their way outside. There were people out here, too, hanging around a bonfire or sitting at one of the picnic tables. He steered her toward a dark corner where he spotted two empty lawn chairs. They took a seat, drank their beer and took turns asking questions about each other.

Michelle was nineteen, was here with her sister, Patty, and her favorite color was neon green.

Trick was twenty-four, was nearing the end of his time with the military and his favorite color was navy blue.

For the next eight days they spent as much time together as possible. He’d been staying at Jackson’s house and Michelle was spending all her free time there. Not wanting to be a third wheel in his own home, Jackson opted to spend his nights in his room at the clubhouse.

Trick was back on base four weeks when he got a text from Michelle saying I’M PREGNANT. His heart tripped in his chest and he was finding it difficult to breathe. The appearance of little black dots in his vision alerted him that he needed to take in more air. He took a deep, stuttering breath and let it out. “Fuck me.”

He ran a hand over his face and debated on what he should say in reply. “Shit.” He had to say something, but for the life of him, nothing was coming to mind.

“Hey, man. You good?” Colson, one of his fellow Marines, asked as he squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah. Good.” It might have sounded more convincing if he hadn’t sounded like he was choking on something.

“Are you sure? You look a little green.” Jenkerson, another buddy, asked.

“No. No. I’m good. Just need some fresh air.” Trick offered a weak smile and headed out the door. He waited until he was outside before he dropped his hands to his knees and bent over, trying to get his breathing under control. When he thought he was well enough to breathe regularly, he walked over to a tall tree and leaned back against it. He needed to talk to someone before he called Michelle. He needed someone to help him get his head on straight. He lifted his phone and hit one of his speed dial numbers.

“Hey, Trickster, my man! How’s it going?” Jackson’s voice was hard to hear over the sound of many voices and loud music. He must be at the clubhouse. What Trick wouldn’t give to be there right now, drunk off his ass, so he didn’t have to think about Michelle being pregnant.

“Hey, Jackson. I…” his voice caught and he had to clear his throat before he tried again. “Michelle’s pregnant.”

“Come again?”

“I said…”

Jackson cut him off. “Hang on.”

Trick hung on until he could hear the noise fading into the background. He heard a door close and then Jackson saying, “All right. Say it again because I couldn’t have possibly heard what I thought you said.”

“You heard right. Michelle’s pregnant. She just texted me.” He rubbed his hand across his mouth and started to pace, completely oblivious to his surroundings. Good fucking thing he was on base at the moment or he’d be an easy target. He knew Jackson would remember exactly who Michelle was because she’d been at his house so much. And she had those piercing blue eyes.

“Fuck, man. What are you going to do? Does your family know?”

“I haven’t called anyone but you. I know I need to call her, but I need to get my shit together first.” He nodded at a couple of guys as they walked by.

“Are you going to tell her to get rid of it?”

The thought of Michelle ending her pregnancy, his child, was like getting slapped in the face with a brick. The thought did not sit well with him at all. He’d always wanted a family, he just thought he had more time. “No. I’m not going to tell her to get rid of it. It doesn’t matter how it happened or that it was a complete accident. It all comes down to the baby is mine, a part of me, and I want it. I want to be a part of this kid’s life.” Saying that out loud, he realized he really truly did want this baby.

“Are you going to marry her?”

“God, I don’t know. I barely know her. The only thing I know about her is that she’s nineteen, her favorite color is neon green and how to get her to scream my name when she comes.” If that didn’t sound like a loser, he didn’t know what did. His head fell back on his shoulders, giving him a perfect view of a dark clear sky and millions of twinkling stars. How had his life taken such a sharp turn? His plans had been to finish the next four months serving Uncle Sam, then move home and prospect for the Sons of Redemption.

Jackson chuckled on his end. “I wish I could tell you what to do. Just know that whatever you decide, I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

“You’re going to ask her to marry you, aren’t you?”

Jackson knew him too well. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Probably. Maybe. I don’t fucking know. I guess I need to sack up and call her. See how things are before I completely lose my shit.”

“Okay. Call me back if you need me.”

“Thanks. I will.” He disconnected, scrolled down to Michelle’s number and called.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Michelle. I got your message.” He moved back to the tree and dropped to his ass and leaned back, resting one arm on his knee and pinching the bridge of his nose with the other.

“I really didn’t want to tell you that way, but I chickened out when I started to call.”

“I thought you were on the pill. I mean, we only had unprotected sex that one time.” They’d been so excited the first time they did it, they’d gotten carried away and forgotten the condom. Once they realized the mistake, she was quick to assure him that she was on birth control. He’d been so pissed at himself for forgetting. He never forgot to wear a condom. If it hadn’t been so long since he’d fucked a woman, he might have been thinking more clearly. As it was, as soon as they hit his room, they stripped out of their clothes in record time, fell to the bed and she’d climbed on. She’d ridden him hard, bringing herself to orgasm surprisingly fast. After that there was no stopping his own orgasm. The next time they fucked and every time after that, he’d been sure to wear a condom. Apparently, the one time without one was enough to change both their lives forever.

“I was at the time,” she reminded him a little defensively. “The doctor says it was too low a dose and that’s how I got pregnant.” At Trick’s silence, she went on. “I’m sorry. I never meant to get pregnant. Having a baby at nineteen never crossed my mind.”

“At the risk of sounding like a real bastard, I have to ask, are you sure it’s mine?” The sound of Michelle breaking down on the other end of the phone made him feel like a real prick. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I had to ask. We only spent eight days together and only fucked once without a condom.” He closed his eyes tight and leaned his head back against the rough bark of the tree.

“I knew you would think I slept around,” she wailed. “I hadn’t been with anyone in over a year. You were only the second person I ever had sex with, asshole.”

“Michelle, calm down. It’ll be all right.” It was so hard to try and calm her down and reassure her that everything was going to be all right when he was close to losing his shit, too.

“How can you say that? Nothing’s all right. I’m nineteen and pregnant and my parents just kicked me out of the house. How is anything ever going to be all right?”

Fuuuuck. The hits just kept coming. “They kicked you out? Where are you staying?” Please God don’t say on the street or in her car.

“My sister is letting me stay here for a little while. It’s only a one-bedroom apartment and she says I have to be out of here before the baby comes.”

Trick banged his head against the tree. How was he supposed to sort things out when he was thousands of miles away? How was he supposed to reassure her that things would work out when he absolutely had no idea if they really would?

“Maybe I shouldn’t even have the baby?” Michelle whispered.

“No. Do not get rid of my baby. I want this baby no matter how it happened to come along. If you don’t want to be a mom, please just have the baby and give it to me. I’ll raise the baby.”

“I don’t really want to get rid of it. I’m just scared and lost and…scared.” She was sniffling again.

He had to do something, say something to convince her to have the baby. Before he could second-guess himself, he blurted, “Marry me.”

“What?”

“Marry me. Yeah. We’ll get married when I get back. I’ll be done in four months and we can do it then. We’ll go to the courthouse.” Part of him wished she would say no, but the other part knew it was the right thing to do. The responsible thing. He’d fucked up by not pushing her off and rolling on a condom. He was older, supposedly wiser. Logically, getting married made sense. Emotionally, he was fighting not to throw up. At her continued silence, he asked, “What do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Okay.” She hiccupped and sniffled some more. At least she wasn’t sobbing anymore.

“Okay.”

Four months later, Trick was officially out of the Marines and back in Redemption. Two days later he was married to Michelle at the courthouse with her sister and his mom, dad, brother and Jackson in attendance.

Four months after that, his son Keegan was born. Michelle had been overjoyed and he couldn’t have been happier. He got his family. Even if it wasn’t the way he thought he’d get it, he was happy just the same.

The first year they were together, things were tough, but they managed. They’d had lots of crazy sex and he loved watching his son grow up. Somewhere along the line he’d fallen in love with her and thought she felt the same way.

It was toward the end of their first year that things started to crumble. Jackson had finally convinced him to start prospecting for the Sons of Redemption MC and Michelle was not happy. She was constantly complaining about how much time he spent away from her and their son. She hated that he was never home.

She also complained when Jackson and his friends from the SORMC came to their house. He thought by having them hang out at their house, she’d like it better knowing where he was at. That backfired when some of the brothers started talking about all the tail they had been getting from the sweet butts that hung out around the club. No matter how much he tried to reassure her that he wasn’t fucking other women when he was at the club, she didn’t believe him. They fought constantly. It got so bad, he finally divorced her after three years of marriage. He hated to call it quits but he was slowly losing his mind around her.

Two years later, in a weak moment, he’d been drunk off his ass when he ran into her at a bar. They’d run into each other in the hallway leading to the bathrooms. To this day he still wasn’t sure how it happened, but they ended up in the storage room fucking up against a rack of cleaning supplies. Nine months later, Reagan was born. Michelle already thought he was a bastard, so he didn’t feel the least bit bad about ordering a paternity test. The results came back that he was the father.

He rubbed his hands down his face and sighed. He and Michelle might not be able to stand the sight of each other, but he had to admit, they made beautiful babies.

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