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They both figured it was easier to say Shade was his father instead of brother or uncle, so he’d automatically be the boy’s guardian, no questions asked. Or at least, Shade hoped so.
He never wanted to be a father, never thought that was for him. But he’d watched Cage with Dyna. Judge with Daisy and Ry. Chelle with her girls.
He also knew how badly Trip wanted to have babies with Stella.
That would come. When Stella was ready.
Just like kids would come when Sig and Red were ready. Maybe even Deacon and Reese. But Shade couldn’t see Reese with a baby on her hip. She was currently hyper-focused on her career.
Trip’s next question snapped Shade back to the porch. “Where’d he get the bruise?”
“Evil stepdad. Asshole didn’t want him once the mother was gone. Decided to call me. Told me to come get him or the state would.” The lie slipped too easily off Shade’s tongue.
However, Trip wasn’t buying it. One thing Trip wasn’t, was stupid. “Good thing he called you, then.”
“Yeah. Good thing.”
“Hopin’ he got what was comin’ to him for strikin’ a kid.”
“He did.”
Trip nodded before glancing over his shoulder at the door through which Stella and Jude had disappeared. “Don’t really look much like you.”
“Takes after his mom.”
Trip’s dark gaze sliced back to Shade’s and held it. “No badge-wearin’ assholes are gonna show up here lookin’ for him, right?”
“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.”
