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“If you did, you’d be sittin’ at the table with us when we decide.”
Fuck. “Just wanna keep my colors. Sig’s wasn’t stripped. I expect the same.”
“Not up to you,” Judge growled.
“Road captain’s the easiest position to fill,” Trip reminded him. “Shoulda kept that in mind while you were bustin’ a nut in someone you knew was off limits.”
“And speakin’ of off limits, just a reminder that Reilly and Saylor are off limits, too,” Judge said, first looking at Rook over Cage’s shoulder, Cage himself, then behind him at Whip and Rev. Though, Saylor was Rev’s baby sister, so the younger biker’s warning only applied to Reilly. “Picture them in those bonnets and black dresses.”
A snort came from Dutch.
“It’s a Kapp,” Sig corrected him.
Judge’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Info I don’t give a fuck about. And neither should anyone else with a dick in this group.”
Trip clapped his hands together once. “All right, got shit to do. Like make some fuckin’ money for this club so you all can eat, wipe your ass with more than one-ply toilet paper, and can get fucked up on whiskey and beer every weekend. And so do the rest of you. Let’s get to it.” He planted his fists on the table and leaned into them to go eye to eye with Cage. He lowered his voice. “Text us the second you hear. Then we’ll deal with it.”
“Yeah.”
Dutch rose from his seat. “All right, you knuckleheads, you’ve fucked off enough for the day. Those fuckin’ vehicles ain’t gonna fix themselves.”
Whip, Rook and Rev headed into the garage through the back door, while Deacon, Judge and Trip headed around the corner and out the front gate.
Then it was just the two of them left, his father and him. Well, officially, three with the baby.
Dutch stared at him for a long, uncomfortable minute. Cage braced himself for another whack upside the head. He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t strike back this time if his father tried it.
“You ain’t workin’ today. Your job for the next few days, ‘til you figure out what the fuck’s goin’ on, is to take care of this kid. Ask Cassie for advice if you gotta. But get it from somewhere. I ain’t gonna raise this girl for you. I ain’t gonna be gettin’ up in the middle of the fuckin’ night to feed or change her. You are. No one else. You did somethin’ really fuckin’ stupid and now you might end up payin’ for it for a long fuckin’ time. Gonna get Rook to grab some of your shit from the bunkhouse and bring it over to the house. You can stay there ‘til we find out if it was your swimmer that made this baby. And when we find out it did, ‘cause I’m pretty fuckin’ sure that’d be your fuckin’ luck, then we’re gonna deal with findin’ you a place of your own. But dockin’ you a day’s pay for every day you don’t work. You also owe me for all the shit Reilly bought. And what she got ain’t everythin’ you’re gonna need. Havin’ this kid’s gonna cost you. Not just talkin’ about money, either. Your life’s just been changed forever.”
Cage hadn’t heard a speech like that from his father in a long time. The speech he gave him and Rook after Bebe left hadn’t been that long. In fact, it had only been a couple sentences, if he included the grunts.
Dutch shook his head, took a deep inhale, then turned to go inside. Just as he was reaching for the door, Cage called out, “Dad.”
Dutch only turned his head as he waited.
“Thanks.”
His father said nothing and just went inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
Chapter Four
Cage ran down the hallway, something heavy bouncing against his legs trying to trip him up. All he knew was, he had to get back there and quickly. Otherwise, he’d be too late.
He couldn’t be late.
He couldn’t be left behind.
If he was, he’d be forgotten.
When he got to the bedroom, it was already empty.
She was gone.
“Wait, Mom. I’m going with you!” he screamed as he tore back down the hallway toward the front door, dragging the bag behind him. “Don’t leave! Please!”
His full bag became heavier with each step, slowing him down.
“Mom! Don’t leave without me!”
The burden was suddenly so heavy, he couldn’t pull it anymore. He tried to drop it so he could run and catch her, but he couldn’t let it go. His hand was somehow stuck to it.
He tugged and tugged, but the bag would no longer move.
He fell to his knees, unable to control his sobbing. “Mom! Don’t you want me anymore?”
With another garbled shout of “Mom!” Cage jackknifed up in bed, his heart racing, his forehead beaded with sweat, his vision unfocused.
He blinked a couple times until it hit him where he was and what woke him.
