Page 22 of Truck

“Tracker! Tracker! Pres…” I ignore her because this is a great stroll and Ayla is awake, checking out everything that passes her. She gives me gobbledygook talk, and I give her smiles and tell her what is going on.

Reaching me and puffing like an old dog, Cilla snaps. “What are you doing? You are not her father.”

Cap, who has a highly amused look on his face, says it's law. “Well, Pres is her godfather.”

“Not her father, her godfather,” Cilla snaps.

Cap laughs and gives a perfect response. “Yeah, you said it, Cilla. Pres is our God, and he is Ayla’s God Father. You know what I’m saying, God Father. That is a higher claim than just a father.”

Cilla stops walking, her mouth wide open since her chin has dropped so far. I keep walking and give what I consider my Predator laugh. Much to Cilla’s annoyance because she stamps her foot and rushes to catch up with me and Ayla.

“You know you can’t just take her and run off with her, Tracker,” Cilla says in what she considers her reasonable tone.

I grunt in response but say nothing.

“Come on, Tracker. She’s my daughter, and one minute she was in the clubhouse and the next she was gone.”

I grunted again because nobody would get into the clubhouse to take Ayla, so it had to be me that scooped her up.

“I’m going to tell Finger…”

Now, that has me throwing my head back and laughing, to which Ayla joins in with her baby giggle. Which, of course, annoys Cilla again, but I keep walking and continue to be highly amused at her ‘I’ll tell on you’ comment.

“God help any woman who takes you on. Even more help she’ll need if you have kids…”

I grin because she’s not wrong. Any woman who takes me on will have to have a multitude of special personality traits, and it’s the reason I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll never have a woman or kids.

Chapter 12

RORY

Working this evening has proven to be a little stressing. We had a mother and child come in to eat an evening meal. That is okay! We love having children in the diner, but boy, did that child scream, stamp his feet, spit food onto the floor where people had to walk. The mother was clueless. She just ate her meal as though she were in the diner alone. Totally ignoring the child and his antics.

Shelby, however, decided enough was enough. She storms over to the table just as the door opens and Rum, along with Truck steps inside. They take in the scene that is playing out in front of them. Truck smirks, and Rum frowns. I ignore them and watch Shelby because if she shouts me over to her, I want to be ready.

“You can take your kid and leave, and lady don’t come back. If you cannot control your kid, then you are not welcome. We have kids in here all the time, and they are well-mannered, respectable, and likeable. Your kid is none of those things,” Shelby is on a roll, and she’s about ready to grab the woman and haul her out.

I can’t allow that, or she’ll have the Sheriff on her ass. “Shelby, I’ll deal with this. You go behind the counter.”

“I want her out in two minutes flat. She’s not to come in here again,” Shelby is snarling, and I’ve never seen her so angry. I admit I’m shocked at how stirred up she is.

Turning to the woman I open my mouth to speak when my face is hit with a tumbler of lemon-flavored water. The little asshole!

“Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry. Baron what do you think you are doing?”

At last, the woman has responded to what is happening around her. Lifting my apron, I wipe my face. The little shit is giggling, and I’m about to shout when a powerful arm lifts me out of the way.

Truck takes hold of the kid by the shirt at the scruff of his neck, lifting him out of his seat. Then takes the woman by hers and drags them both out of the diner. Once he lets go of them he smacks his hands together, grunts something I can’t hear, and then closes the diner door in their faces.

Rum grins broadly, which makes him look ten years younger than he is, but Truck winks at me as he passes me to regain his seat. Shelby shouts, “Thanks, Truck. Both of your meals are on me tonight.”

I stumble a little as I head back towards the counter, and the people at the table in front of me give me a weak smile. The two sitting at the table are regulars and eat at the diner twice a week. I return their smile just as weakly I might add, and head to the restroom to clean myself up. I’m going to be sticky for the rest of the night, and I’m not going to be happy about it either.

Once I’ve cleaned up and got myself a clean apron, I make my way back to the diner. “Are you okay, Rory?” Shelby asks as I step behind the counter.

“I’m fine. It’s just one of those things. We don’t have to dwell on it. Now, let’s get these people fed,” I say in a pleasant voice. I don’t want Shelby to worry about what happened.

Walking over to Truck and Rum’s table, I give them both a warm smile. “Okay, what can I get for you?”