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I stepped back from her. “Meadow, you’re mine, as are those kids. I’m not your ex, but I understand how wary you are. That’s fine. One day at a time. Tomorrow, I’m taking you out. Dress comfortably and don’t book anything for dinner. We’re going out as a family,” I said. I looked down at my cock, and Meadow followed my gaze.

A blush started on her cheeks.

“I’m gonna go do something about that,” I muttered and yanked out my Henley to cover it. Before Meadow could refuse, I left her standing there, bemused. That wasn’t my finest moment.

Meadow

Dress casually. Did Chill not understand the panic those words caused in a woman? I looked around the room I’d been given at the clubhouse and sighed. I’d managed to put most of the clothing away in the double closet and in the drawers, but there were bags of shoes and other items stacked neatly. I needed to contact the realtor.

Okay, causal to a biker. Jeans for sure, tight tee, boots and a coat. They liked nice hair and makeup. Settling down, I applied the foundation with a slightly heavier hand than usual. I still had horrible bruising, but the shop had sold me a really expensive but freaking fantastic concealer.

“You look nice,” Cassian announced from the shared doorway as he watched me get made up.

“Thanks. I feel like mutton dressed as lamb.”

“Mom, you’re forty-two. Not ninety. You’re pretty, I guess,” Cassian said awkwardly, making me laugh.

“That hurt, didn’t it?”

“You’ve no idea,” Cassian admitted ruefully as he entered and sat on the bed. “Dad kept you in granny clothing and under his thumb. Poet and Zion weren’t aware, but I was. Dad used to hit you a lot. Asshole thought nobody knew. And I promised to get a good job and save you. Dad wasn’t stupid, you know—his plan was so obvious?”

I sat next to Cassian, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Dad got you pregnant with me to keep you. You were twenty-five and young enough to start over back then. Getting you knocked up meant you wouldn’t leave. Then Dad realised when I hit nine that you could be free of him in a few years, so along came Zion and Poet. You’d be fifty-four by the time Poet turned eighteen. He was trying to get you to conceive again. I heard Dad telling Lyle that you wanted another kid,” Cassian admitted.

“No. Your dad had a vasectomy,” I scoffed.

“Dad lied.”

“But I didn’t fall during all those years!” I exclaimed with a shudder.

“Because Dad had swapped your vitamins out with the pill. Judy told him too,” Cassian explained gently.

“Wait, what? Gerard was drugging me?”

“No, Judy was. She gave Dad the idea. That’s why she never had kids with Uncle Lyle,” Cassian said.

“Oh, jeez.” How much deeper did Judy’s deceit go? Everyone had felt sorry for her not getting pregnant, and she’d played on it. All this time, she’d done it to herself. Who did that? A vainglorious, self-important whore!

“Thank God you didn’t get knocked up,” Cassian said. “He’d have had you over a barrel.”

“What a total bastard.”

“I like Chill. He’s an idiot for making you wait, but Chill’s okay,” Cassian continued. “It’s nice how he talks to Poet and Zion. Dad rarely had time for them. Dad didn’t want Poet, but it kept you tied close.”

“You’re not interested in your dad anymore,” I murmured, experiencing sadness. Cassian shook his head.

“Nope. Now I understand what an asshole Dad is, I don’t want to be anything like him. Mom, I’d be happy never to see him again. Dad’s shown his true colours and they’re ugly.”

“Can’t argue with that. Oh well, I should go. Will you be okay hanging around here today?” Cassian’s school had shut for a teacher training day. Why they couldn’t do them during vacation times, I’ll never know.

“Yeah. I’m helping Gravey with the petting zoo.”

I raised my eyebrows. Gravey was the most anti-social and reclusive brother the club had. He refused to come to meetings, wouldn’t attend parties, and fled when anyone approached. Yet Inglorious kept Gravey on and protected him.

“I wasn’t aware you spoke to him.”

“Gravey’s cool. Says a lot of stuff that makes sense.”