Shakedown (Souls Chapel Revenants MC 8)

My eyes followed the field across to the little yuppie coach who had been calling our girls for fouls for the entire damn soccer game.

“Ref!” the opposing coach continued to yell. “Call the fouls! Those girls are animals!”

Our girls, Ashland and Gracelynn, were definitely animals.

Wild children to the extreme.

However, they were not playing aggressively at all.

In fact, they were playing damn good soccer. Their girls were a bunch of pansies, though.

They fell down onto the ground and all of a sudden they were producing tears out of nowhere.

“Daddy,” I heard my daughter gasp. “I have to pee!”

I looked at Gracelynn who had just been subbed out.

“Let’s go,” I urged, standing from my chair where I was between Nico and Belle.

I wasn’t sure why Gracelynn always came to me when she had to use the bathroom, but it was what it was.

She was my mini-me. Though Ashland did a pretty good impression of it, too.

It was cute.

I loved the hell out of them.

And at least they weren’t like their little brother, who was hell on wheels.

A brother who was currently playing on the soccer field behind us with Georgia, Six, and Lynn watching him.

I glanced between the two fields, seeing if Tucker was on the field—sadly, he wasn’t—and hurried Gracelynn to the bathroom.

When she was finished, she all but ran back to her team, and I took my time.

However, as she ran, she ended up going close to the other team’s coach, and the coach growled at her.

I stiffened at the corner of the field, trying to convince myself to calm down.

Our coach, seeing that Gracelynn was back, immediately asked for a sub, pulling out a little girl that was good, but not up to Gracelynn’s caliber.

A whistle on the other field had me looking over to see Tucker go down on the ground in a brawl.

I groaned and started over there just as I heard the other coach of the girls playing our team say, “If you have to, kick them when they’re down.”

I bared my teeth and started closer to the field, knowing this was about to get out of hand.

Because, like their mother and me, these girls of mine had tempers.

They were angry little monsters.

And, when one of the twins was hurt, the other would surely retaliate.

“PK!” I heard someone yell.

A parent of the other team.

There were more whistles from the other field, but I knew Tucker could handle himself.