I sighed as I went downstairs to my room. Emilee flashed behind my eyes, making my dick twitch.
It wasn’t easy being without her. I had needs, but I never loved anyone more than I loved her. I’d be a fucking fool if I let my dick call the shots. He’d just have to deal with my hand.
Soon my girl would be back, and when she was, I wasn’t ever letting her go again.
3
Emilee
Something strange was going on with my dad. He was humming while fixing spaghetti for supper. Overly chipper. It was annoying the crap out of me.
But humming a tune? He’d never even whistled a tune, let alone hummed one.
Dad had been home for over an hour, clinking pots and rummaging through cabinets. The same scene played out every evening since my little man arrived, sans humming. Dad had taken over dinner duty so I could be on the couch with my baby.
The gesture didn’t make me feel loved or cared for, not when it was my own father who had ripped me away from Danny and a life I loved.
My gaze swept across the small, sparse living room. It wasn’t at all like the Knight’s Legion clubhouse I’d grown up in. Even if it was a motorcycle club full of big burly, gnarly, growly bikers and lots of immoral activities, it was all I knew. My family was there: men who were like uncles to me and women who’d treated me like their daughter.
Danny was there. My first and only love. Dante’s father.
“Em, do you want garlic bread?” Dad hollered from the galley kitchen.
“No.” I didn’t eat anything he made, preferring to fix my own food when he wasn’t around.
There was nothing I wanted from him other than to let me go home to Danny and the club, but he ignored my pleas and death glares. He behaved as if we were okay, like our father-daughter bond hadn’t been destroyed.
“Salad?” He was persistent. I’d give him that. He knew my stance on everything, so why bother?
“Baby mine,” I whispered to my little one, disregarding my dad as he did me. “Yourdaddy loves you, sweet boy. He’d never hurt you the way grandpa has hurt me.”
Little D’s suckling picked up as I lightly brushed the tip of my finger down the bridge of his perfect button nose. I could stare at him for hours on end, wholly entranced at what Danny and I had created from our love for one another. A beautiful, precious son.
Dante had his daddy’s dark hair and my blue eyes. Of course, his eye color could change. I wouldn’t mind if they did, so he’d look like my handsome Danny.
I swallowed the emotion bubbling in my throat. Somehow I needed to find a way to get out from under my father’s iron fist.
“Em, salad?” This time he stepped out of the kitchen, an expectant arch to his brow.
“No. Thank you.” I held my position just as he did his.
Dad twisted his lips, his gaze trained on me. If he wanted me to eat, he’d have to force-feed me. But he wouldn’t go that far. I ate when he wasn’t around, which infuriated him. Part of me relished making him angry when I refused supper. When I was made to cook, I’d take my plate to my bedroom. I literally wanted nothing to do with him, and he hated it.
A knock at the door interrupted our standoff, but tensions would only rise from here on out.
“Hey, babe.” He greetedher, Tami, his girlfriend. I couldn’t believe he had someone in his life and I was alone. The hypocrisy sickened me.
I shuddered when they kissed, grabbing each other’s butts, once she entered the house. The smacking of their wet, slimy kisses raked down my spine, making me cringe with disgust. Dad never acted this way in front of me at the clubhouse. I knew he had his needs taken care of by the kittens. I wasn’t blind or dumb. He had been discreet about it. Since Tami, he didn’t hide anything.
It was like he was a totally different person.
Tami dropped her purse on the chair and hovered above me, entirely invading my space. “He’s always eating or sleeping when I come over.”
Duh, I planned it this way so she couldn’t get her claws on him. Nobody got to hold Little D, not even my dad. I didn’t trust anyone.
I cuddled Dante protectively. “Well, he’s only going to be three months. He doesn’t do much at this age.” Not totally true. He smiled and cooed a lot. During tummy time, he’d lift his head and work his legs like he wanted to move. My boy was strong like his daddy.
Tami was such an idiot with her fake pouty face. “How much does he weigh now? Any medical concerns?” She leaned in as if inspecting Little D.