31
AIDAN
"You won't hurt my family,"Jonesy sneered, but I saw the fear in his eyes. Saw it, embraced it.
I wasn't Da—that didn't mean I couldn't be me.
That didn't mean I wasn't aware of what needed to be done to secure my family, to protect us and keep us safe from pricks like this one.
"Won’t I?" I mused, staring at his half-naked body with a displeased glance.
All the traitors had been stripped to the waist so we could check for ink.
Hal, no surprise, had proven himself to be a fucking liar—Mark shared the same phoenix tattoo on his shoulder as Jonesy did.
Mark was a goddamncheiletoo.
Still annoyed by the discovery, I clicked my fingers. The door opened and Lucas walked in with Jonesy's side piece and his son on his hip.
The woman was terrified. I couldn't blame her. She kept eying her son then darting her focus to the floor. Her fear was palpable, and the kid responded to that by bawling and slapping his hands against Lucas’s chest.
Jonesy blanched the second he saw them, then he snarled, "You piece of shit."
For the first time, his control was ruptured. He jerked his seat upwards by the bindings on his wrists which only resulted in the piece of crap falling forward because gravity wasn't kind to a man whose beer gut was as big as a pregnant mother's belly.
As he collided with the floor, the woman started sniffling.
"You better not have fucking hurt him," Jonesy howled, trying to scramble onto his back, proving that he was a moron because he was literally a tortoise with a chair-shaped shell, and there was no way in fuck he was going to do anything other than look like a fool.
"Jonesy," I murmured as he carried on scrabbling around, ignoring the fact that his wrists and ankles were bleeding from the tight bindings. "I told you what would happen if you didn't listen to me. Now, I'mshowingyou what'll happen."
My gaze caught the woman's, and though her bottom lip trembled, she kept her mouth shut.
Exactly like I was paying her to.
Jonesy sagged against the floor. "You fucking bastard," he sobbed. "You can't threaten a man's child—"
"Didn't realize that was the rule of the game," was all I said as I grabbed his chair and hauled his deadweight into an upright position.
I moved over to my captain, and though she tensed, Jonesy's side piece, Rebecca, didn’t argue when I took their boy, Richie, from Lucas and propped him on my hip. The kid stunned me by falling quiet as I held him against me. He smelled of soap and baby wipes. I recognized both because of Cameron.
As I moved over to Jonesy, I saw the longing and the love in his eyes for his son, and it sickened me. Not because it was wrong to want to protect your kid, or to love them, but because this child was cherished because it was a ‘he.’
The man had two daughters: one he'd thrown away like she was trash, and the other was a Five Pointer's wife with kids of her own, but what really got to him was me holding his son.
Because he was a boy.
Like daughters didn't matter.
Still, I couldn’t complain. Not when this was his pressure point to gain his obedience.
I narrowed my eyes on him as I asked, "If you do as you're told, Jonesy, nothing will happen to them. I'll watch over them, make sure they have enough money. Which, to be frank, seeing as you're old and unhealthy as fuck, is more than they could hope for if you died of a heart attack. This way, you can make sure they're cared for when you're worm food."
Jonesy's eyes leaked as he rasped, "Your da would never have threatened a baby."
I smiled at him. "Ain't I told you fuckers enough? I ain't my da."
Jonesy gulped, but his mouth wobbled as he dipped his chin. "I'll do it. For him."
I moved away from him and handed the kid back to Rebecca. She clung to him the second I handed him over.
"I made you a promise," I whispered to her, soft enough for Jonesy not to hear, tutting as her lips trembled.
She sniffled and stepped back.
"Take her home, Lucas," I drawled, twisting around to face Jonesy again, who snarled:
"What did you fucking say to her? Leave her alone, do you hear me? Leave her the fuck alone."
I didn't bother gracing him with an answer, just told Brennan, "Get him cleaned up. We got work to do."