Blood & Bones - Dodge (Blood Fury MC 10)

And that didn’t say much.

Tricky Vickie wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“Are you his wife?”

“Of course.”

Of fucking course.

“His mother overdosed and is currently in the hospital. When she gets out, she’ll need to get clean to get custody of,” Cop One tipped his head toward Dodge, “him. Someone needs to take him until she does. Now, ma’am, is Kevin Collins at home?”

Her expression turned into what reminded Dodge of a hoodie after someone yanked the hood string tight.

Fucking bitch.

Dodge jerked his shoulder again, trying to get the cop to ease up. He glanced around wondering if he just took off, whether the two fat pigs could catch him.

They were already sweating enough to soak their collars.

“He is, but… We don’t want him.”

Dodge’s attention sliced from the sweaty cops back to his sperm donor’s wife.

“Need to speak to Kevin Collins, ma’am,” Cop Two said more firmly. Patience must be running thin on the melting cops.

She stared at the cop for a few more seconds, then twisted her head and called back into the house. “Kevin!”

Once again giving his shoulder a little jerk, Dodge could turn enough to look at the big silver Mercedes parked in the driveway and wondered what other kinds of overpriced cars were parked inside the three-car garage.

Cars that probably cost a lot more than a year’s worth of rent on their apartment.

“Mom? Who’s at the door?” came a teenager’s voice from deeper in the house.

Dodge’s eyes narrowed. He wondered how old Kevin’s other son was. The wanted one.

“It’s nobody,” Kevin’s wife called out over her shoulder.

“Can I invite Chad and Preston over to swim?”

“Yes, Kevin, you can.”

Kevin. Probably Kevin Jr. Or Kevin the third. Or even Kevin the twenty-fucking-third. He didn’t know because he knew nothing about that side of his family tree.

What he did know was only normal kids from normal families got normal names.

Unlike his. When his mother squirted him out in the back of one, he was named Dodge.

He wasn’t a Kevin, Chad or Preston.

To the woman standing there and the man who fucked his mother, he was no one.

A completely invisible nobody.

A mistake his sperm donor made over fourteen years ago when he got drunk at a sports bar and fucked someone he shouldn’t have. Something Dodge was sure Kevin Collins regretted from the moment he sobered up.

“Kevin, tell your father to come out front,” Vickie called out over her shoulder.

“Why?” came a whine.

“Just do it,” she hissed. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

Probably so Dodge couldn’t get a glimpse of the life he was missing.

Dodge’s mother most likely targeted Kevin Collins because the man had money. Maybe she thought she’d get a fat monthly paycheck out of him for eighteen years.

She didn’t.

Every month he sent the bare minimum. Only what he was forced to, even though he could pay a lot more. Unfortunately, the man could afford the best lawyers and his mother couldn’t. She bitched all the time that amount she got from him was a joke. And having Dodge hadn’t been worth it.

Joke or not, it was enough for her to pay for her next high. That was if his “adopted” dad or his uncle didn’t take it from her first.

Forget that the money was supposed to help support her son.

Forget food or utilities.

Forget new clothes or shoes.

Forget all of that.

The four of them stood in silence in front of the house bigger than his apartment building, his stepmother’s toned and tanned arms crossed over her huge fake tits.

When he heard the door opening again, Dodge’s heart leapt into his throat, making it hard to breathe.

The man he hadn’t seen in years took one look at him, quickly hid his surprise and replaced it with a scowl, stepped out onto the stone stoop and closed the door behind him.

“What is all of this?” His gaze slid from one cop to the other, avoiding Dodge completely. “Did he do something to get arrested? His mother—”

“Is incapable of taking care of him right now. You need to take your son until she’s able to do that again.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

The people in that house must like sucking on lemons.

The two uniformed pigs glanced at each other.

“Told you,” Dodge said. Not sounding like a little whiny bitch like Kevin Jr.

“It’s either that or he goes into the system,” Cop One warned, making a point to glance around. At the Mercedes. The large house. The perfectly landscaped yard. “He’s yours right?”

“So the court says,” his father muttered.

“Well, then…” Cop Two started, running a hand over his sweat-beaded forehead.

No surprise that Kevin Collins hadn’t even acknowledged him. No “Hi, son.” No “How are you? Do you need anything?”

Nothing.

“Try his grandmother. She’ll probably take him.”

Cop One shook his shaved head. “Kid says she’s dead.”

“How about the man she shacks up with? The biker?” He spit the last two words out like a piece of shit had flown into his mouth.