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“I don’t know. He went back to my house to put Sydney down for bed.”
Flipping her phone screen up she saw it was getting late, but would sleep actually come to the young girl with all the upheaval.
“Let me go and talk to Sydney. See if I can get her to open up. Girl to girl,” she suggested because if the men had learned anything from being part of the Hard Road rescue, the women of Steel were a bridge for those traumatized by men. “There’s a reason that he chose to come here to you. Do your friends know about The Hard Road?”
“Yes,” he confessed. “If that son of a bitch is twisting us to the wrong side he’ll have to answer to me. I’ve got to make a few calls and check on some things. If the girl is still awake talk to her, but if it’s just Mike, don’t.”
“Fine,” Porsche replied only to have Hack grip her upper arms tight and make sure she heard him clearly.
“In my heart I can’t see the man laying a finger on a woman, but there’s a little girl in his mind he’s protecting,” Hack warned. “From the moment Matthew cried out I’ve been ready to kill anyone who for a second made me think they were going to harm him.”
“Kids, I get it, turns parents into hyper vigilant killers.”
“You can check on Sydney, nothing more,” he said releasing his grip on her. “But know by the time I get home he better have a good explanation for all of this.”
Hack turned away from her, disappeared into the clubhouse and up the stairs. Digging out her keys from her purse she bounded down the steps to her car, turning over the engine she tried to stop the voice of Doc from scolding her. The message of finding projects and leaving them half finished. This was different even as she knew in her heart there was no way she was going to stop herself from charging at Mike. None of this made sense and demanding answers from him would probably get her nowhere, but she had to try for Sydney’s sake.
The child was practically paralyzed at times. Gathering her thoughts she wished the pounding in her temple would stop. The moment she put her car in park a spike of pain shot through her left eye. Fear, panic, she knew it well having been on the losing end of a closed fist before. The crushing fear she’d learned to manage for the sake of those they tried to rescue. Only she didn’t know if Sydney needed to be saved or already had been.
* * *
Mike sat in the darken living room alone. Only the light over the stove and the ambient glow from outside lit the area. He had to be mindful of where he was and how the people here were questioning his daughter. The place was filled with people trained to read the signs of abuse and his daughter had them tenfold. Only not from him, but them knowing the truth and believing the truth could be miles apart. His mind was full of flashes of the few lines of text he’d seen on the phone. Imagining the manipulation necessary for Sassy to not cut Mitch’s heart out by the mere suggestion of‘Sydney needs to be part of this’and not have it be family dinner.
A knock at the door startled him, saving him in a way because he had a need to use the sim card to track the origin of their exchanges for an explanation of how his daughter was even a thought when it came to sex. Crossing the room he went over to the window, shifting the edge of the sheer curtain to peer out. Training had his other hand behind his back and around the grip of his gun when he took in the sight of Porsche on the porch.
The long blonde hair caught highlights from the porch light as she clutched the thin strap of her cross body purse. In another time or place having a woman as lovely as she was standing on the other side of the door could have him in another state of mind. One he normally could suppress when on a mission. Only for the first time his mission was too close to home and it clouded his mind in a way he should have been able to push past. She stood, bouncing a bit on the balls of her feet and he knew there’d be another knock coming in seconds, this time loud enough to wake the house.
Opening the door slightly, keeping his foot on one side because there was no chain on the door.
“Hack’s not at home and Preacher Girl passed out with Matthew,” he said hoping she’d take the hint and not want to risk waking a sleeping newborn.
“Well, I wasn’t looking for them. I was hoping to talk to Sydney,” she stated sending a shot of ice down his spine.
“Why?”
“Thought I could help her find fun stuff to do here if I knew more about her.”
“Thanks, I’m pretty sure she’s having fun.”
“Dads, we try to please them and even put on a brave face when they make us eat broccoli, doesn’t mean we’re going vegan.”
“Interesting analogy, but I put her to bed,” he said.
“You need some company? Seems were both night owls.”
Porsche reached out to open the door wider so she could step in. His mind rushed through hundreds of scenarios. Walking the line between protective and questionable to a woman who had catered to him and his all night even with her duties. He’d watched as she moved around the room, connecting and disconnecting from those around her. She had a place among the group, but he wasn’t sure what it was. The ranking and her saying she was single. He knew everyone had a place here and she was very much a part of the fabric of the club.
“You gonna let me in?” she asked, her head quirking a bit to the side as her long lashes batted at him.
“I’m a little confused we just saw you at dinner.”
“Saw me,” she said with a sigh. “Yes, but we didn’t actually get to talk and I’m thinking we should have a chat.”
“About?”
“Geopolitical theory? The designated hitter rule? Whether a toilet paper roll should face out or in?” She shrugged. “The basics so I can determine if you’re a sociopath.”
“Out, it’s on the patent for the toilet paper holder,” he said stepping back to widen the door enough so she could come inside. “The house is pretty much asleep.”
