Page 56 of Hard Corps (Selected Sinners MC 7)

“So am I,” his father said with a hint of love in his eyes. “But you’re a damned fool, baby or no baby. And I call ‘em as I see ‘em.”

“Like a fuckin’ umpire, now, huh? Now you’re a god damned umpire, callin’ ‘em like you see ‘em?” Ripp snarled playfully.

Katie gripped my leg slightly above my knee and squeezed, causing me to jump, hitting my leg on the bottom of the table.

“Michael Allen. Not. At. The. Table,” his mother said as she looked up from her meal.

“Sorry, Ma,” Ripp said.

Kace turned toward Ripp and cleared her throat to get his attention. “If we’re treating everyone the same, why do you always say Shane is kissing your mother’s rear end when he compliments her on the meal, and you never say the same to Alec?”

Ripp turned toward her and furrowed his brow. “Dekk’s the all-time biggest ass kisser ever. A-Train’s just sayin’ when he likes something. It’s different,” Ripp explained.

“Nicknames, Michael,” his mother said.

“I can’t win,” he said.

Ripp reached for the platter of chicken. After digging through the platter and tossing each piece of chicken to the side without actually taking a piece, his father looked up, tilted his head to the side, and widened his eyes. Still tossing pieces of chicken left and right as if looking for the perfect piece, Ripp didn’t notice his father’s glare.

“What in the hell are you doing, fingerin’ all the damned chicken? Nobody’s going to eat it now, who knows where those damned hands have been?” his father snarled.

“I know where they been, and they’re clean,” Ripp said without looking up.

Ripp turned toward his mother. “You buy breastless chickens, Ma?”

She shook her head. “Two per chicken, just like always.”

“No extras?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It was before the football game, and they were out.”

He pushed his chair from the table and crossed his arms in front of his chest, like a child throwing a fit.

After a few long seconds of no one caring about his act of defiance, he cleared his throat. “Where the hell did you go?”

“HEB, just like always,” she said.

“Eat a damned thigh,” his father said, pointing to the platter of chicken with his fork. “Thighs are good.”

“I ain’t looking to get fat just because Vee’s gonna get fat,” he said.

Oh shit.

“Excuse me?” Vee said. “I’m pregnant. I’m not getting fat, I’m giving birth.”

Vee had a dark complexion, had dark hair, and was what I would guess to be Italian. She was all of a size two at the absolute most. If she doubled in size she wouldn’t be the size of one of Ripp’s thighs.

“Well, you know what I mean,” he said. “I’m done. I’m full. Food was good, Ma.”

“Thank you Michael,” his mother said.

“We’re going to have to get out another leaf for this table when those grandkids get here,” Mr. Ripton said as he glanced around the table.

As our eyes met, I nodded my head in agreement.

“So, Alec. You like kids?” his father asked.

“Yes, Sir. I love ‘em. They’re our future, and there’s not a thing on this earth more innocent and eager to absorb all we’re willing to offer them. I look at a child as our opportunity to right the future wrongs of this earth – in how we raise them and the values we instill in them,” I said.