I scowled at him and humor creased his face into interesting planes I wanted to trace with my fingers.
“And quit it with this Berserker MC business. Stay away from Wrath and the boys, and you see me, you act like you barely know me unless it’s inside these walls.”
“Whatever.”
Danner bit at the corner of his grin then moved away to crouch in front of Hero, who sat contentedly to our side wagging his tail.
“You take care of our Rosie, okay boy?” he said, cupping the pup’s face and looking into his eyes the way he would a young boy.
Hero let out a gentle woof of affirmation and trotted to my side the second Danner stood up to leave. I wanted to shout out an insult, something to keep him on his toes and secure me the coveted last words. Instead, my head was filled with romantic delusions, with the lurid image of Danner breaking me under a firm, calm hand…
“Lion,” I called before I could stop myself.
He paused with his hand on the door handle and I distractedly noticed that there were more locks on my door than there had been before the accident. I swallowed when he shifted slightly to face me and I could take in the long, muscled length of him. It killed me that I couldn’t look at him without wanting to put my hands on his body, through his thick, glossy flaxen hair and down the ridge of muscles in his back to his high, taut ass. It killed me even more that I didn’t have the right to do so.
“Thanks for lending me Hero,” I said and then in invisible ink written in the space between us I added, and thank you for always taking care of me.
“My job, Rosie,” he said softly, and it was, but what he meant was that he felt taking care of me was his duty just as much as being a cop was.
Even though I’d never said the words out loud, he knew.
I’d been his since the day he bought me my first rose.
2008
Harleigh Rose is six. Danner is sixteen.
I remember the day started with a slap.
I was six years old so young, but still old enough to know better than to wake up my Mum when she was sleeping off a hangover. It was getting late though, mid-morning, and it was Sunday, which meant it was time to go to Mega Music down on Main Street so I could get a new record. It was tradition. Sure, Dad started it, not Mum, but if he wasn’t around, then he made her promise to take me instead. Mum and King didn’t care much for music. Mum was too busy with her boozin’ and partyin’, and King was all about his books so after the record store, even though we didn’t have a whack of money, our next stop was the bookstore.
But Dad and me? We loved music. Not the stupid, tinny new stuff they played on the radio that Dad said sounded like a bunch of ‘snot nosed cry wankers’ or ‘straight up douchebags,’ but the old stuff, like Black Sabbath and Guns n Roses. Dad loved AC/DC best, so I did too. I’d been a daddy’s girl since I could cogitate and so even though I was upset Dad wasn’t around to take me himself, I was still excited to go to Mega Music and pick out a rockin’ record to show him when he finally got back from where work at The Fallen MC took him.
So, I decided to brave the beast and wake up Mum.
It was the first calamity of the day, but it wouldn’t be the last.
I could smell the vodka as soon as I pushed open the door to her room. There was an overturned bottle on the ground that she’d knocked over, probably in her sleep, and it wet the floor all along the side of the bed. It smelled gross and chemical, like nail polish remover, and I held my breath as I tiptoed through the sludge.
“Mum,” I whispered, and put my hand on her cheek, admiring the black nail polish I’d stolen from one of the biker whores at the clubhouse. “Mum, it’s time to go.”
“H.R.?” my brother’s voice hissed from the doorway. “What the fuck you doin’ in Mum’s room? She’ll kill you, you wake her up.”
I frowned at him. “It’s Sunday. We have to go to Mega Music, Old Sam’s going to be waitin’ for me.”
Old Sam was called that because he was really old and he seemed to have been that way for at least half a century. He owned Mega Music, which wasn’t mega at all but actually a really small record store that refused to sell anything else like iPods or MP3 players because he was hardcore like that. I loved him. I loved him almost as much as I loved my dad and that was saying something. I didn’t want to keep Old Sam waiting because I knew he’d have a piece of Hubba Bubba gum ready for me and a record all picked out to listen to.
“You wake her up, swear H.R., there is no way Mum’ll take us out,” King whisper-yelled at me.
He was only eight, but he thought he knew everything. Honestly, I kinda thought he might’ve because he was always reading those thick books and quoting dead people. I didn’t care about dead people, I only cared about living ones like Dad and King and Old Sam and the brothers of The Fallen, but quoting them sure made King sound smart.
“She’ll take us ’cause she doesn’t, Daddy is gonna be so angry,” I reminded him of something he knew.
Only problem was, Dad could get angrier than a bear coming out of hibernation, but Mum was like a rattlesnake, only one twitch away from coming at you with a venomous mouth.
I slapped my hand lightly against her face a few times then when that didn’t work, I pushed hard at her shoulder.
She woke at the same time she lunged for me. One second, she was dead to the world and the next she was coming at me like that rattlesnake, a curse hissing across her tongue and through her teeth to poison me. Her hand was against my cheek so briefly, it was almost like it didn’t even connect, only the pain that exploded after that flash contact made me reel back from the bed.
My hand flew to the burning pain in my cheek, but I didn’t let the tears in my eyes fall out of them because Mum hated when I cried, especially when she was hungover.
’Sides, it wasn’t the first time Mum laid hands on me and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
King cursed from his place in the doorway, but he didn’t make a move. Makin’ a move only made Mum angrier.
“Fuck! What’re you doin’ wakin’ me up? You so selfish you can’t let your Mum sleep in once in a fuckin’ while? You such a little girl still you need me to wipe your ass for you or something?”
I bit at the corner of my lower lip because it threatened to capsize into a trembling pout. “No, Mum. But it’s near on noon and it’s Sunday so it’s Mega Music day.”
Mum was pretty. I knew she was pretty even as a little girl because Dad said she fished for compliments from everyone and always came back with a fat catch on the line so I heard more people than I could count say so. Only then, her pretty face was sour with irritation and it was a look she gave me a lot so I didn’t think she was the prettiest.
I didn’t look like her and I think it bothered her because even though I had gold in my hair it was dark, more caramel coloured than true blond like hers and King’s. Otherwise, I looked like a female version of Zeus Garro. I also acted like a female version of Dad and this, for whatever reason, often pissed her off.
Like now.
She rolled her eyes so hard I thought it must’ve hurt and pushed my hand off her shoulder so she could roll away from me in bed. “Mega Music is shit, Harleigh, and I’m tired. Go watch TV or somethin’ and if your fuckin’ father has the decency to remember he’s supposed to take you Sundays, he’ll be ’round to get ya.”