Snitches Get Stitches (Bear Bottom Guardians MC 8)

His words meant the world to me.

To know that he thought I did good, that I was a person of worth, was everything.

And I didn’t want him to let me leave.

“I love you, Josiah,” I whispered fiercely. “Tomorrow. The day after. I’ll never stop.”

He cupped my face and pressed his forehead against mine. “I’m not saying the words back. Tomorrow, when you leave, I want to be able to let you go.”

I wasn’t sure when it happened.

An hour, maybe even less.

But when I woke, it was to find myself in my own room, Linnie’s face only inches from mine, and Liner nowhere in sight.

My heart cried out, and there wasn’t a single thing in the world that would make this ache in my heart go away.Chapter 15Nice cup of fuckoffee.

-Coffee Cup

Liner

“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Sam said briskly. “Later this afternoon, we’ll come get you. Hoax and my niece, Janie, are going to take you to your new place. From there, you’ll be given birth certificates for you and your daughter. A new home, vehicle, and papers. Everything that you’ll need to be set up.”

I couldn’t tell if Sam was deliberately being an asshole, or if he was just this abrupt when he was working.

I wasn’t sure, but that was the vibe I was getting.

“Do you have any questions?” I asked Theo, bringing her attention to me instead of the false whatever the fuck Sam had pasted on his face.

Her eyes were troubled—haunted—as they came to me. “No. I don’t think so.”

I nodded once, knowing that she did, she just didn’t want to voice them in front of Sam and Hoax.

I’d be asking him myself after Theo was out of the room.

“Anything else she needs to know, Hoax?” I pushed, bringing his attention to me.

He ignored me.

His eyes went to the little girl that Theo was quietly talking to and narrowed.

I knew what he was thinking.

That little girl looked a whole lot like the little boy that had disappeared from our lives way too soon.

And when I say a lot, I meant nearly identical.

I also knew that Hoax wouldn’t be leaving it alone.

Which was why I said something to him as he was leaving fifteen minutes later.

“Don’t,” I said. “Whatever you’re considering doing, don’t.”

His jaw tightened. “That kid looks exactly like Matias. Rome’s gonna have to know. With her being Tara’s sister…it’s going to come up.”

I nodded. “But she’s not his. Don’t do this.”

“I’m…Liner. She looks just like him. There’s no mistaking that,” he whispered.

I knew that. And I’d thought that the first time I’d seen her.

Which was why I’d done a little digging and found a way for the DNA test to be done.

My private investigator had been the one to collect an empty chocolate milk carton from Linnie after she’d had it at the cupcake bakery that’d been next door to The Bridge.

Rome’s DNA had been easy. I’d collected a beer bottle from him the last time we’d gone out for drinks.

The information had come back quickly thanks to my incentive of an extra four grand if it could be done within the week.

“She’s not his,” I repeated firmly.

Hoax’s jaw clenched. “I’d want to know.”

With that, he left and didn’t look back, leaving me to wonder if I should be preparing for another one of the members of my MC to head my way.

***

I should’ve known that Hoax wouldn’t leave well enough alone.

Castiel stood back and watched, keeping his opinions to himself.

Hoax stood back and watched, too.

Rome? Well, let’s just say that he was pissed as hell when he arrived at my door later that evening.

After everything that had happened the day before, talking to Tyson and collecting Linnie? That was the last thing that I needed. That either of my two girls needed.

My two girls.

I froze at the thought, wondering how in the hell that had happened.

Then I thought about last night, of the hours that we’d shared, and I realized that she’d given herself freely to me. Given me something to remember them by when they left.

I squeezed my jaw tight, then stared at the angry eyes of the man that I’d counted as one of my best friends.

Only, he wasn’t looking very friendly.

In fact, he was looking downright hateful as I opened the door.

Sighing as I came face to face with his angry one, I realized I was grateful that I had some height on him. Even if it was only half an inch.

Rome’s massive bulk—something he’d maintained since he’d retired from professional football—looked downright imposing when he was pissed and trying to control himself.

“Where is she?” he asked.

His wife, Izzy, looked heartbroken and angry as well but seemed to be controlling her ire a little better than her husband.

“I’m assuming you’re talking about Theo,” I guessed.

His eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about that bitch. I care about a kid that I might have.”