Keeping Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 2)

“You can think that, baby, but I’ll remind you that you do later.”

“Oh, will you stop. Everything is not about sex!” I huff, getting pissed off. “I don’t think I want to be with a man that could go without talking to his daughter for at least a week.”

“I spoke to Daisy every day, spent time with her, too.”

“How is that possible? You were with me the whole time?” I question.

“Not the whole time, Red. I went to the club, most of the time before you were even out of the bed.”

I stop for a minute, thinking about what he said. Then, it hits me.

“Your daughter lives at the club?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t she?”

“She lives at the club,” I stress again, wanting to make sure I understand exactly what he’s saying.

“Yes, Daisy lives at the club.”

“Your daughter lives at the club, but you have an apartment that you took me to?”

“You’re not part of the club, Red. At least not yet.”

He’s thinking he’s upset me by not bringing me to his club, and that’s not it. I don’t know what Luke and I are together yet, but I know that only two kinds of women are usually at the clubhouse. Club twinkies or old ladies. Kids are at my dad’s club, but usually only on days marked for family—admittedly with my uncles most every day is family day, but there are still rowdy parties that the kids are specifically banned from—and glad for. I once caught Freak and Nikki getting a little too wild with some other guys from another chapter. I hadn’t seen a real-life orgy before. And, I guess that’s probably not what this was called, since Nikki was the only girl involved. But one girl and six guys together, seems like it should be an orgy, and it was certainly interesting to watch…at least until my Uncle Dragon caught me.

Poor Freak was in the doghouse for months, not to mention he and Dad were both super pissed at me. I tried to explain that I couldn’t help it. It was just one of those things you couldn’t look away from, but I think that made it worse instead of better. I was only fourteen and that, too, made it worse. I have a sneaking suspicion however, that if I had been my brother, they wouldn’t have minded quite as much. Uncle Dragon and Dad are great men, but they’re more than a little sexist when it comes to the women in their lives.

That thought almost makes me smile.

I miss them. I miss the way life was before I discovered how cruel people were, how cold and calculating others could be. Before the blinders were ripped off and I saw my super-hero Dad as nothing more than just a normal, mortal man.

“So, Daisy’s mother lives at the club?” I ask. I mean, I don’t care. My dad is the vice president of the Savage MC. I know how this shit works and what the men do with the twinkies. I’m not stupid. It’s not my favorite part of the club, but some of the girls are really nice and Vida started out as a twinkie, until one of the men claimed her as an old lady. Still, I don’t know any of the club girls raising a daughter inside the club. I’m sure it’s probably done, but I’ve just never seen it.

“Daisy’s Mom left and followed a couple members to a different chapter,” Luke replies, surprising me even more.

“Hold up, she left her daughter behind to follow other club members.”

“Well, yeah.”

“She left her daughter behind,” I mumble, wondering what kind of bitch could do that. I try to pride myself on not being judgmental, but this isn’t a damn dog, or another man. This is her daughter we’re talking about. Then, a thought occurs to me. Luke and I haven’t talked ages.

“Wait…How old are you?” I ask him, as he pulls up to a stop light that’s red. He turns to look at me, and it’s dark really, but from the glow of the lights I can tell that he’s got confusion written all over his face.

“Thirty-five and so help me, if you decide that’s too old for you now, Red—”

“Don’t be stupid,” I mutter. He’s older, but he’s not that much older than me, and I like that he’s in his thirties really. Guys in their twenties have definitely been immature…and evil. “I’m just wondering how old your daughter is?”

“Why does that matter?”

My eyes widen in shock. “It matters!”

“She’s five.”

“She’s five…”

“Yeah.”

“That poor baby,” I murmur, my stomach instantly tying in knots.

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” I mutter under my breath.

“Red, stop talking in riddles. What are you talking about now?”

“A five-year-old shouldn’t be alone in the club, who takes care of her when you’re not there, Luke?” I ask him, unable to keep accusation out of my voice.