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Maddoc drops the knife in the sink with force, spinning to glare at me. “She’d fuck around with you there?”

Almost every single night.

I lift a shoulder.

“Raven.”

I shake my head and look over at him, finding he has a death grip on the counter. “It’s life, big man.”

He gets in my face, misplaced anger staring back at me. “That’s not life. That’s a piece of shit person putting her daughter in danger.”

I eye him and the longer I do, the more his worry seeps through.

He jerks away when my hand lifts and goes back to the job at hand.

“Check your rice, Raven.”

I roll my eyes and jump down.

Like I know what that means.

“Yo.” The other two walk in, beers in hand.

Cap laughs at me. “He put you to work?”

“He’s trying to teach me.” I lift a fork of white mush. My shoulders fall. “But I’m a shit student in all areas, it seems.”

“You still feelin’ the vodka floats?”

“Nope. Now I’m feeling the pounding on my temples.”

He and Royce laugh and start pulling out the dishes and shit for dinner.

We all move to the table like we’ve done every night since they pulled me into their little world.

Little world...

I look to Cap and right as I do, his eyes lift to mine and he gives a small, sad smile.

I drop mine to my plate.

“Her name is Zoey.”

My head snaps up and all movement around the table pauses. Dead fucking silence surrounds us, no one even dares chew.

“She’s two,” he continues. “Be three in June.”

My ribs star to ache. “What color are her eyes?” My question comes out quieter than I planned.

His mouth twitches. “Sometimes green, sometimes blue.”

“Like yours.”

He laughs lightly while nodding. He drops his eyes to his food. “Just like mine.”

“Captain...” I breathe, glancing from Royce to Maddoc, both who stare at me.

I don’t want to ask, but I want to know everything. So I wait.

“She’s with a foster family.”

I frown, sitting back in my chair.

“Zoey’s mom hid the pregnancy from me. I had no clue I was going to be a dad until after I already was.”

“What the fuck?”

“She was there, all was good, then Perkins called her from class that afternoon.”

Fuuuck. Now it makes sense why they freaked after my meeting with him.

He got in her head.

“She was gone after that. Took off, hid away, and came back in the summer. When school started, she was suddenly going to Graven,” he continued.

“I didn’t care. I wanted nothing to do with her when she showed back up, wrote her off completely. But someone wanted me to know.” He looks to his brothers who offer small nods of encouragements. “Found delivery records in my gym bag two weeks into school. Confronted her, finally got the truth from her. Then I found out she signed over her rights, gave my little girl up.”

“She can’t just do that. How did she just ... do that?”

“She lied to the right people. Said she didn’t know who the father was, so there was no one to fight her on it.”

“Captain...”

He drops back in his chair. “I went straight to Maybell. She helped me get everything ready so I could bring her home, but Perkins showed up the night before the hearing.”

“Here?”

“Here. He had been collecting shit on us, did some digging, found out some things. Said I’d lose her for good if I tried. Said no court would let her go to a home where we lived with no adults and had a few dozen troubled fuckers on our property. Technically we can’t live how we do, but Maybell makes sure we’re covered there. It was too risky. So I went, took what the court offered when I should have fought harder. They gave me visitation twice a month, fucking supervised until they decide I’m fit to parent.” His laugh is hollow, and I want to cry. “My daughter can’t even meet her uncles.”

I shoot from my seat and move to the other side of the table. I drop onto his lap, aware the other two are watching, aware Maddoc is watching, and run my hand through his hair, until he looks up at me. I don’t care that it seems intimate. He needs this. “You did what you thought you had to be a part of her life. There’s nothing wrong with that,” I whisper.

His hand slides up my leg and I move mine to cover his, squeezing lightly. Deep creases frame his eyes and his nostrils flare. His grip on me tightens.

I slide my hand down the back of his hair, bringing my forehead to his.

“Captain,” I breathe and his shuddered exhale fans across my mouth. When he swallows, I tip his head back slightly so I can softy press my lips to his temple. It’s not much, but something tells me he needs it.

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