"I didn’t do nothing," Cyan sniped. "She was the one who—" She broke off, and her nose tipped up, straight into the air. "I ain’t no snitch, Daddy."
Was it weird to be proud of her?
GIF’s brat had caved in the second she’d recognized who I was. My kid? Nah.
Should have fucking known I’d breed a rebel.
I tugged her into my side, clamping my arm around her shoulder as I frog-marched her out of the room, barking, "Clear up the mess they made."
Not letting go of her, I moved over to the front door and marched us outside.
"It’s cold, Daddy!" Cyan complained as she wrapped her arms around her middle.
Though her glower was all me, I wasn’t her mom, and it didn’t do shit to make me back off.
"I can’t take you to the office. Your mom’s there with MaryCat."
Her eyes lit up. "MaryCat’s here?"
I arched a brow. "You know her?"
She shrugged. "’Course. I know all the brothers and the Old Ladies." She straightened up, chest puffing out as she declared, "They know me too. All of ‘em. They know my name and my birthday."
"Went out of your way to introduce yourself, huh?" The thought had me smiling a little.
"Well, I didn’t want to be like Mom." She huffed out a breath, unaware I winced at her words, before she whined, "It’s cold!"
"Then answer fast, because you apparently need to cool down." I zoomed in on her statement from before. "What do you mean? Be like Mom? She’s a good woman. Why wouldn’t you want to be like her?"
Cyan’s small mouth tightened. "She isn’t a part of the MC. I don’t wanna be like that. I want to be a biker princess. I decided."
"You did, huh?" Surprised, I rubbed my chin. "Your mom wasn’t raised like you."
"No. I know."
"You do?"
She gritted her teeth. "I do."
Still confused, I asked, "What was that fight about?"
"I ain’t a snitch."
Though I used ‘ain’t’ too much, I corrected, "‘I’m not a snitch.’ Don’t be dropping your grammar, baby girl."
"You say it all the time," she contested with a glare.
"Yeah, but I’m not gonna be the MC’s next... whatever. Lawyer?" I smirked at her as I carefully tipped her chin with my knuckles. "Doctor? Bookkeeper?"
"You think I could work for the MC?" She beamed up at me like I’d just told her we were going to frickin’ Six Flags.
"Don’t see why not." I folded my arms across my chest. "Now, a good brother—"
"I’d be a sister," she corrected with a scowl.
"Well, we don’t have sisters here, do we? So I can only tell you from experience.
"Now, a good brother doesn’t back talk to his Prez. He sure as hell doesn’t hold back an answer when his Prez wants info." Though obstinacy had her tensing up, she was too sly not to figure out where I was going with this. "Because if you wanna be a part of the MC, you gotta remember I’m more than just your daddy, I’m your Prez. So, tell me why you were fighting in there."
Her jaw worked a second, her gaze darting from me to the snow beneath her boots to the car.
I knew she had anger issues. Had known for a while. Long before that fucker had kidnapped her, I’d known she had shit going on in her head. Shit that was likely my fault.
I was scum, wasn’t I?
The purity of Keira’s soul, of her DNA, wasn’t strong enough to counteract the crap I brought to the table.
Was I surprised when she dropped down and scooped up some snow then started battering the SUV with snowballs?
Nope.
I just watched her.
I let her work out her anger, unsurprised when she released a frustrated yell that encompassed all the exasperation and outrage her eleven-year-old self could contain.
When she turned to me, her face was bright pink, her eyes wet, like liquid emeralds, and her mouth was quivering as she finally admitted, "S-She said that you and Mommy would never get back together again."
I wasn’t sure why she was so mad at Keira, but that she called her Mommy right then gave me a clue. Even if her attitude stank sometimes, and even if I forgot she was still a preteen and not a goddamn teenager, she was a baby.
In this life, she would always be mine to protect, and I’d already let her down so fucking badly. When she’d been taken, I was in goddamn Manhattan, visiting an NA meeting because I was a weak ass pussy who had put his addiction before his kid.
Was it any wonder she was raging at the world after what she’d been through?
How I’d failed her?
I just didn’t understand why she was directing her shit at Keira and not me. So it was on me to fix this. To fix my girl.
Squatting down in front of her, I leaned one hand on the cold ground, the snow smushing between my fingers as I murmured, "If we don’t, it’s because your mom’s a wise woman. I hope that, if one day, a guy treats you like I treated her, that you leave his sorry ass."
Cyan’s eyes rounded, much as her mouth did. "Don’t you say that, Daddy! Why would you say that?" she snapped. "You’re the best!"
"I’m really not, honey. And I say it because it’s true." I shot her a sad smile. "I’ve been a bad husband. A decent-ish father, because I know you love me, so I can’t have let you down too much. But as for your mommy? No. She should have tossed me out a long while ago."
Her small hand slapped across my mouth, not to hurt, just to shut me up. Her fingers were wet and cold from the snow and smelled faintly of Kool-Aid. Strawberry Kiwi—her favorite. "Don’t say that, Daddy," she repeated, this time her voice was harder though, as if she were trying to make me believe it.
But walking away from addiction wasn’t as easy as turning your back on it. It was a constant shadow, plaguing everything and anything.
Wherever I looked, I had regrets.
Wherever I looked, there were apologies to make.
Wherever I looked, there were things that I needed to make amends for.
Here was one of them.
I reached up, cupped her delicate wrist, then squeezed it gently. "I know who I am, ladybug, and that’s why I can say it, because I’m going to change that. I’m going to be the man your mom and you deserve."
"You already are—"
Shaking my head at her indignant interruption, I murmured, "No. No, honey. You don’t have to say that. How many nights wasn’t I at dinner? Huh? How many nights wasn’t I there to tuck you in bed, to read you those stories you liked when you were younger?" I let my thumb swipe over the back of her hand. "I let you both down. Admitting that is the hardest part. Did you know that?"
She bit her bottom lip, those liquid emerald eyes of hers making me feel like my soul was being shredded from the faith she had in me.
But I hadn’t earned such blind faith.
If anyone had, it was Keira.
She wasn’t the bad guy here. She was just being smart. No right-minded woman would want me as is. I was a fucking mess. But time healed all wounds, didn’t it? At least, that was what they said. That was what I had to pray for.