“He’s got no one but me.” And that lie might end up actually being true. Shade hoped it wasn’t, he hoped Jude had family out there who would want him. But what kind of family let a woman and her son live out of a fucking car with winter coming?
Blood who wasn’t real family. They were only forced to be when necessary.
Like Shade’s own father.
Trip glanced past Shade toward The Barn. Then his dark brown eyes moved to the left to where the pavilion stood, then even farther left, just past the tree line where Judge and Cassie’s house had been built. In that direction, but out of view, was also the modular home where Cage, Jemma and their baby girl lived.
“You positive on that? Don’t need the feds showin’ up accusin’ you of kidnappin’. Or worse.”
“Hear you, prez.”
Trip’s gaze snapped back to him. “Won’t be happy if the feds raid the place lookin’ for an underaged boy.”
Shade forced out a painful, “Ain’t like that.”
Trip rubbed at the dark wiry hairs on his chin. “Said that about Chelle, too. Have a feelin’ you were also wrong in that case.”
“He’s mine,” Shade said firmly.
“DNA test gonna prove it?”
Shade’s mouth got tight. He needed to hold strong with his story. For Jude. So he didn’t answer. And that was answer enough.
After a few uncomfortable moments, Trip finally nodded his head. “Just tell me havin’ him here ain’t gonna bring any heat.”
Shade couldn’t promise that, so he didn’t. Instead, he made sure the words he said next also held what he couldn’t say. He only hoped Trip would pick up on everything unsaid. “I’m all he’s got.”
Trip muttered a curse under his breath, ripped his ball cap off his head, raked his fingers through his hair and jammed it back on. He planted his hands on his hips again and dropped his gaze to his boots, his jaw working.
Shade didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Trip said, “That ain’t right.”
He shot the club president a confused look.
Trip cleared up that confusion. “You ain’t all he’s got. He’s got us.”
Oh thank fucking fuck.
Shade’s chest loosened a sliver and he could breathe slightly easier.
“Can’t have him stayin’ in the bunkhouse.”
Shade expected that. “Yeah, know it.”
“What’re you gonna do? We can get you a modular like we did Cage. Set it up on the lot next to his place. Keep you two close.” Trip always wanted everyone close. Preferably on the farm. He hated the fact Ozzy, Dodge and Dutch lived elsewhere. Also that Deacon spent most weeknights in Mansfield with Reese. The prez didn’t like it, but he lived with it.
“Yeah, maybe...”
“What other choice you got?” Trip frowned. “Unless you’re plannin’ on buyin’ out your membership? Leavin’ us?”
Fuck no, not after Trip just welcomed Jude among them as family. “No. Ain’t leavin’.”
Trip didn’t hide his relief. “Yeah. I mean, we’re all family. Bein’ a single dad’s gonna be tough, but you got all of us to help.”
“Not sure about that.”
Trip’s eyebrows pinched together. “About what?”
“About where we’re gonna settle. Gotta talk to Chelle.” He had also talked to Jude about Chelle and what she meant for their future, if she’d have them.
A smile spread slowly across the prez’s face. “If she ever talks to you again.”
“Yeah.”
“Had her worried.”
“Didn’t mean to.”
“Shoulda told her where you were goin’ or where you were after you got there. Or maybe answered your fuckin’ phone when we called you or when she did.”
“Couldn’t find my phone.”
“Right. Guess you found it once you hit the town limits since you texted me not even fifteen minutes out.”
Yep, Trip was far from stupid.
“Didn’t mean to leave without a word,” Shade lied.
“Yeah you did.”
The cool late October air flooded Shade’s lungs with a sharp inhale.
“Look, we all got our shit. Every fuckin’ single one of us. Got that you had to deal with some of yours. But next time you do, clue us in first. ‘Specially after what happened up on Hillbilly Hill. We all went searchin’ for you again, thinkin’ you stopped breathin’ up there and thinkin’ we’d have to escalate the Clan Plan.”
“Didn’t mean to make anyone worry.”
Trip ignored that and kept rolling. “Rook and Easy have been goin’ up doin’ some recon, lookin’ for some signs of you. Or what was left of you. You might wish they found you dead once they find out they did all that fuckin’ work for nothin’.” Trip surprised Shade when he laughed. “Just so you know, you also drove Judge fuckin’ nuts with him not bein’ able to track your ass. Figurin’ that’s why your phone got lost. Also didn’t help that Cassie was worried the whole time, too. So, he had to deal with her stressin’ over you, which got him even more worked up. Don’t be surprised if the giant ain’t so gentle on your ass ‘cause of that. Might wanna have your kid with you the next time you see him. This way he don’t use the club hangin’ in The Barn on you like he did Cage.”
One side of Shade’s mouth pulled up. “Got it.”
“Now my balls are fuckin’ turnin’ blue.” He tilted his head toward the door. “We done talkin’ out here?”
“Yeah.”
“Figure out your shit and lemme know what your plan is either way. Figurin’ you haven’t talked to Chelle yet.”
“Headin’ there next.”
“Yeah, well, hide your crazy-assed knives so she don’t grab one and cut off your nuts before you get to explain.”
“Made a whole bunch of people unhappy,” he muttered.
“All except one,” Trip pulled open the screen door, “that kid inside.”
Trip pushed open the custom-made wood door and Shade followed him into the kitchen where Stella was leaning back against the counter talking softly to Jude who sat at the table Trip’s grandfather built by hand.
In that instant, Shade could imagine Trip’s sons sitting at that same table just like Jude was.
By the look in Stella’s eyes, Shade had a feeling Stella could see it, too. Because the warm look she gave Trip said a lot. So much so, Shade kind of felt bad for what he needed to ask next of the couple.
If they agreed, they would have to hold off going upstairs and working on making those babies. If they even made it that far.
Shade had a feeling they did a lot more than eat on that sturdy table.
“You good?” he asked Jude. After he got an answering nod, he turned to Trip’s ol’ lady. “Askin’ if you can watch him for a little while, while I go deal with Chelle.”
Stella glanced at Jude. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat,” Jude answered with a grin.
Stella turned back to Shade. “He could eat.”
“Not surprisin’,” Shade muttered. The boy was a bottomless pit. Shade had been going broke feeding him on the trip from Georgia to Pennsylvania. Grief had not made him lose his damn appetite.