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I opened my arms, lifted him, and hugged the hell out of him. “Hi, buddy. Did you have a good day?”
“Mhm. Miss Mallory fitted me for my gown. I’m graduating and get to attend the big kids’ school in the fall.”
“That’s so exciting.”
“We have a sheet on the wall. Every child gets four tickets for family and friends.” Miss Mallory pointed by the door. “Just list your guests to reserve their spot.”
“I told her I don’t have grandparents. Just our club family.” His words came out unfazed, then he kissed my cheek. “What’s for dinner?”
I felt punched in the gut. My previous thoughts, of calling Lydia and asking for money, faded away. How could I rip my son out of his school? I had to wait it out until he graduated.
In the meantime, what would I do about Rocky?
Or rather, what would Rocky do to me? What if he found out Rockson was his?
“Mommy, what’s for dinner?” Rockson bounced in my arms.
“How about fish sticks?”
“Yes! And leftover apple pie.”
“Sure, and leftover apple pie.” Lord, help me.
21
Rocky (RJ)
After Ella left, Vegas moved our little reunion into the room where church was held. The eight-person table was full, so my crew and I stood. I was behind Vegas at the head of the table, pacing.
“Did every one of you motherfuckers fuck my woman?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Rocky, it’s been over five years. What’d you expect?” Vegas asked.
“Loyalty. Respect. And your fucking dicks away from Ella!”
“If she meant so much to you, why’d you stay away?” Tomcat asked. I hated him. Despised him. I would make his death extra long and painful.
“Doesn’t matter why.” I pointed at every man. “I claimed her, and she bares my mark.” Or at least, I thought she had a tattoo above her panty line with my name on it. My memory might be a little fuzzy with the details.
“So what now? You’ve returned, and what? You want Ella back, and what?” Vegas asked, sounding like an idiot—what, what, what…
“She hates you,” Tomcat said with a stone-cold expression. It was easy to see he had feelings for her. I could rip his head off his shoulders in three seconds flat. But putting him out of his misery quickly was too kind, and I wasn’t merciful or forgiving.
“So? I hate her too, but that doesn’t negate the fact that every man in this room betrayed me.”
“She wanted to be a club girl. It’s how she earns a living.” Vegas threw back a shot and lit a cigarette.
“You’re telling me she wanted to whore out her body to you fuckers?” I shook my head. “I don’t buy it. She never liked any of you.”
“We were all she had after you went silent.” Vegas peered at me with a neutral expression. He’d never been one to rock the boat and had tried to stay in everyone’s good graces, especially with my Uncle Keg.
But I suspected Vegas had wanted to be president more than anything and would doanythingto rise to the top. My uncle’s rule book had been clear. Only a blood relative can be president after my death. If there isn’t one, or six years have passed, the club can vote for a new president.
If there wasn’t a blood relative,I, the logical candidate to replace Keg, would be the VP. Vegas hid it well, but I was confident he was cursing me in his head and threatening my life for returning and fucking up his plans.
“I see.” I paced, flexing my hands at my side. “Well, okay then.” I needed to calm the fuck down. My return wasn’t how I’d planned it, but hearing Ella moaning had sent me reeling over the edge of sanity. Images of her had flashed in my head—things I’d forgotten, like chasing her in the woods. Her scent had rushed back and put me in a chokehold. I’d followed her sounds to the door and banged on it, effectively losing my cool. Nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing the just-fucked glow on her face that someone else had given her.
“Okay then, what?” Vegas asked guardedly.
