“You can’t take Maya.”
“Sure we can. And we are.” He straightened. “Heed my warnin’, you cunt, or next time you’ll be on the floor with him.”
Shade and Deacon ended up having to pull Sig away from Danzig and haul him out of the room. Once they hit the frigid air outside, Sig snapped out of his fucked-up trance.
Dodge hadn’t seen him like that since that night on Hillbilly Hill when they went to get his ol’ lady back from the inbred goat fuckers who stole her.
Shade voiced a concern over Sig removing his gloves to beat the fuck out of Danzig and the likelihood of leaving DNA behind.
“Don’t give a fuck,” was Sig’s only response.
“You end up back behind bars, Red will give a fuck,” Dodge reminded him.
“Hopefully they ain’t stupid enough to call the pigs,” Shade said as they moved back toward the van and the rental where Syn and Maya waited.
Dodge stopped at the van. “Gonna take them back to Pete’s. You got this?” He jerked his chin up at the van.
“We got this,” Shade assured him. “Nobody’s gonna have to worry about that motherfucker again. Only one way to deal with a man who’s got a thing for children…”
Dodge didn’t need to hear the rest, he knew his brothers would finish handling the problem. Instead, he turned on his heel, climbed behind the rental’s wheel and took his girls home.
And now here they were. Home but not home. Because living above Crazy Pete’s wasn’t going to fucking work. He’d need to huddle up with Trip since the prez would want someone living above the bar full-time. Dodge would recommend Woody or Dozer, but it could no longer be him.
He’d need to make some other arrangements, too. The sooner the better for everyone involved.
“You want, you and Maya can move into the motel temporarily.”
“I need to hit the road. The band is my livelihood. Money is required to raise a child.”
Dodge blew air out of his nose. He didn’t want to argue. But if he had to, he would. “Syn…”
“I’m a singer, Dodge. That’s what I do.”
“Know it and you’re a fuckin’ good one. Not sayin’ you shouldn’t keep singin’, sayin’ you need to settle here and use Manning Grove as home base. You got people here to help you with Maya. Someone’s gonna have to be with her when you do a gig. Draggin’ her from bar to bar ain’t gonna work. We also need to get her enrolled in school.”
“We,” she repeated.
“Yeah, we, Syn. We. Wanna be here for you. And her, too.”
“But your apartment…”
“Yeah. Know it.” He drew his thumbnail across his eyebrow. “Need to figure out somethin’ else.”
“Hold on… Are you talking about moving from upstairs?”
“What other choice I got?”
Syn blinked. “Dodge,” she breathed. “You’re not going to turn your life upside down for us.”
“Ain’t gonna be upside down and it’s for all of us. You get that?”
“But—”
“Ain’t no ‘buts.’ It’s gonna take a bit to figure shit out, but it’ll get figured out.”
“But—”
“Just fuckin’ said no ‘buts.’ Too tired to argue, Syn. Also ain’t in the mood. All I wanna do is climb into bed with you and sleep for the next fuckin’ week. Promise we’ll figure shit out. For you and Maya. For us. For your band.”
She released a weary sigh. “I’ll need to sit down with the guys and figure out the future for The Synners. But, I’m telling you now, I’m not giving up my career or my dream. I will make it work one way or another.”
While he loved her determination, she needed to realize that she no longer had to do everything on her own. She had real family now. Not just her fellow band members.
“Just need a good manager. One who won’t bullshit you.”
“We can’t afford a manager, otherwise, we’d have one.”
“You can’t afford not to have the right manager, Syn. You’re never gonna play any decent venues or make any decent scratch without the right one. You’ll just continue to book shitholes that pay squat and take advantage of you. You need to play for somethin’ other than fuckin’ tips.” He slid his knuckles down the soft, ivory skin of her cheek. “Listen, I might know the right one. Gonna make some calls this week and see if I can’t hook you up with Dirty Deeds’ manager. The lead singer’s a member of one of our ally clubs, the Dirty Angels, and they played at Trip and Stel’s weddin’. They fuckin’ kicked ass. But be prepared, he might hand you some hard truths you gotta be ready to hear. Like about your bandmates. Especially when it comes to who will help you move forward and who will hold you back.”
Her lips turned down at the corners. “I don’t want to break up my band. I owe them more than you know.”