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“Dad—”
“Lyla and this b-baby belong to me. Not King. I’m the man she claimed. I’ll t-t-take care of my woman.”
I tense in his arms. I want to deny him, and yet, instinctively, I know that I can’t. I did claim him in front of the club—I did it in my hospital room when everyone looked ready to kill Thomas and his father, but I still did it. Plus, I know how hard this is for Thomas. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention. He gets uncomfortable. He is now because I can feel the tightness in his body. If I deny him, it will hurt him. I don’t know why I know that or why I should care, but I do. I’m hurt and mad, but it all keeps coming back to one thing. Thomas is a good guy and I don’t think he meant to hurt me. He should have told me, but how many times since the day I walked out of Thomas’s apartment have I longed for him to hold me? I never thought I was a weak woman, but obviously I am when it comes to Thomas West.
“I think we should hear what Lyla has to say about that.”
Surprisingly this comes from King. His arms are crossed at his chest and he’s not looking at me. His gaze is centered on Thomas and his eyes are full of hate. I mean, it’s so intense that even I can read it. The minute I do, I know there’s no way I can deny Thomas’s claim. I may want to, but it would all be for show. I’m glad he’s here.
Even if I shouldn’t be.
“Thomas is taking care of me,” I interject softly. Thomas shifts his gaze from the others to stare at me. I feel the weight of it and against my will, I bring my eyes to his. I read the surprise there. He didn’t expect me to back him up. Heck, I didn’t expect me to either. He lays me gently on the bed and before I can get my bearings, he kisses my forehead. This aching, bittersweet feeling flutters through me and I close my eyes as I almost drown in it. His fingers wrap around mine and he holds my hand. I don’t pull away—even if I probably should.
“Has something happened?” Thomas asks the others and I push away the fact I’m getting lost in feelings I shouldn’t be having and try to concentrate.
“We need to talk some club business,” Dad says. “I want you there. Tweet here can stay with Lyla and watch over her.”
Thomas shakes his head immediately.
“N-no. I don’t know him, m-m-man.”
“It’s my club and daughter, motherfucker. Tweet is trusted.”
“N-not by me and I’m n-not leaving Lyla with someone I d-d-don’t trust.”
“Did you bang your damned head and think you get to call the shots in any fucking way here, asshole?”
“I can when it concerns my f-family,” Thomas answers resolutely. I don’t know why his words cause my heart to beat crazily, but it does.
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
“I guess we are.”
“Fine. I don’t have to include you in anything,” Dad grumbles.
“Whatever you want. If I don’t leave Lyla’s side, I know she’s s-safe and that’s all I n-need.”
I shouldn’t let his words affect me. They prove nothing except that he already loves his child. I already knew he would. It’s just further proof that Thomas is a good guy. Still, I don’t know a girl alive who wouldn’t feel a little flutter in her tummy with his words.
“What will you do that none of my men will to protect Lyla?”
“Die.”
Shit…
Some men you know they are just saying words to impress the girl. Thomas isn’t made like that. I also know he’s trying really hard to control his stutter. The pressure from his hand increases as he faces off with my father. He’s trying to distract himself so he can talk without stuttering. It’s something I noticed he did off and on when we were together. I rub my thumb back and forth against his hand to try and comfort him—because I’m an idiot.
And because I still love him—which makes me a bigger idiot. It’s a vicious cycle.
I watch my father. Thomas’s words mean something to him. I can see it. Shit, this is getting so complicated. I feel like the walls are closing in on me and there’s not much I can do to stop it.
“That’s easy for a punk to say that shoved her out the door when he knocked her up. In my world, actions always speak louder than words,” King responds, shoving his way into the fray. I shake my head. Thomas doesn’t respond at all. He just stares King down. They both look at each other like they’re about to have a pissing match. “Nothing to say, T-Boy?” he taunts further.
