Blood & Bones: Cage (Blood Fury MC 5)

The Fury’s implosion had been the final straw that had his mother packing her shit into trash bags and splitting so quickly Cage’s head had spun.

His brother’s, “Least she didn’t leave it in a trash can somewhere. Or in a field for the coyotes,” got his attention.

“What?” he whispered, his stomach churning at the thought of a mother not wanting her kid as much as his mother, Bebe, didn’t want him and Rook.

“Yeah, you know, what mothers do when they don’t want their baby and get desperate,” Rook explained. “We were just too fuckin’ old to get thrown in the trash when Mom left.”

Dutch grunted loudly, but before he could respond, a deep voice came from behind Cage. “That’s why Safe Haven was enacted in this state.”

He turned to see Bryson hoofing it back towards him, holding the kid.

“Newborns can be dropped off at our station, the hospital, or even the firehouse, if the mother is desperate.”

Cage frowned. “That happen?”

“Around here?” Bryson shrugged. “Only once, so far, that I know of. The law is the baby has to be less than twenty-eight days old and unharmed, of course, then no questions are asked. They can hand the baby over and they don’t get in any kind of trouble. If there are signs of abuse, though, that’s a different story.” He glanced down at the baby in his arms and took a deep inhale like he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. “Anyway... got some news...”

“He okay?” Rook asked first before Cage could. Damn it.

“Yes. She is.”

Cage blinked and stared at the quiet bundle Bryson was holding.

She.

What?

“They cleaned her up and put on a real diaper. Clamped off the umbilical cord. She’s hungry but not starving, so she was fed recently at least. Eyes clear, temp normal. Lungs sound developed. Heartbeat strong. Basically, she appears healthy and no worse for wear by being left outside in a cardboard box. They recommend getting her to a pediatrician right away, anyhow. Also, I still think you should do a DNA test, Cage. If she isn’t yours, we need to figure out who her father is, especially if her birth mother doesn’t want anything to do with her. Because if neither parent wants the baby, CPS will have no choice but to step in.”

“Note says the mother don’t want her,” Dutch reminded the cop.

“But that doesn’t mean she won’t change her mind. She might not have been thinking straight at the time.”

“Well, she definitely wasn’t thinkin’ fuckin’ straight when she spread her legs for my dumbass son.”

“Dad,” Rook muttered, shaking his head.

“No, let him get it all outta his fuckin’ system now,” Cage told his brother. “‘Cause there’s gonna come a point where I ain’t gonna hear anymore and what he did to me over there...” Cage jerked his head toward the location that Dutch cuffed him upside the head. “He ain’t ever gonna do to me again.” He turned to Dutch. “So, you better get it all out now, old man. Or as soon as Bryson here is gone, we’re gonna get things fuckin’ straight. The Dietrich way.”

If anyone was familiar with the Dietrich way, it was Dutch, since he was the one who taught it to Rook and Cage. Every single time either one of them fucked up and got caught.

Which was a lot.

That pretty much also meant Dutch’s way to keep his sons straight wasn’t very effective.

Or maybe it was, and both Rook and Cage could have ended up worse off than they were now. Maybe both of them could have ended up in prison for life.

Or dead.

Or just finding out they’re the fucking father of a baby born to some Amish chick after poking her twice in a shed.

His nostrils flared.

Even when he didn’t try to fuck up, he did.

And that baby in Bryson’s arms was one of his biggest. Not because she was born, but because Cage was her father.

The baby might not have a damn chance.

Adopting her out might be the better choice. Like Red did with Levi. She knew what was best for her unplanned pregnancy, what was best for the baby born out of crazy and violent circumstances. She trusted putting Levi in Matt and Carly Bryson’s capable hands.

He needed to think about this.

But nothing could be done until he was sure this baby was his. If she wasn’t, then...

Then he had nothing to worry about. The baby wouldn’t be his problem. She’d be someone else’s. Like the state’s.

A lump the size of a boulder landed in his gut. Hard and uncomfortable.

“Which one of you want to take her while I talk to Cage privately?” Bryson asked.

“Her pap does,” Dutch said, stepping forward. “That other one there don’t know shit about babies, either.”

“Like you were really involved when we were babies,” Rook scoffed. “You knew how to fuckin’ make them, not raise them. No wonder Mom split.”