War of Hearts (Storm MC Reloaded 2)

“No!” He thrashes in my arms, fighting for what he wants.

I shift him so my hands are around his waist, and crouch down with him. “Hey,” I say softly, “Mummy hasn’t seen you all day. She’s missing you. Don’t you wanna go play with her?”

His bottom lip pokes out. “I wanna play.”

“Yeah, I know you do, but guess what? We’re gonna get some ice cream on the way.” I try never to bribe him, but at this point, I’ll do whatever it takes to get him home to his mother. With the way she’s squeezing my balls at the moment, I’ll use ice cream any time I need it.

His little face lights up and he throws his arms around my neck. “Yes! Ice cream!”

Thank fuck.

I lift him back up and exit my room to head out to my ute. We run into King on the way out.

“You coming back?” he asks.

“Yeah. Once I’ve dropped Noah off, I’ll be straight back.” He has stuff he wants to go over with everyone and while he said he understands if I have to focus on Noah today, I want to be here for it.

He nods. “We’ll wait for you.”

I get Noah into the car and we drive to his mother’s place, stopping to pick up ice cream on the way. Lynette meets me at her front door with a filthy look on her face. Taking Noah from me, she says, “This can’t become a habit, Fury.”

Following her inside, I dump Noah’s bag on his bed before meeting them in the kitchen. The smell of soup fills the house and I take in the small containers spread out on the counter that she’s portioning the soup into for Noah. This is the reason why I put up wi

th so much shit from her; she’s turned out to be the kind of mother I wish I had. She loves our son in all the ways I could have ever hoped for. But fuck, she never lets me forget the fact I couldn’t love her how she wanted.

I check out the schedule for the next week that she has on the fridge. She could run King’s war for him with the organisational skills she has. “You need me to have him on Tuesday night?”

We have a standard schedule we follow, but we’ve agreed to be flexible where needed to help each other out. So far it’s working for us. But we’ve only been at this for four months, so fuck knows how long it will last.

She lets Noah down while I place the ice cream on the counter. “Yes. I have a date.” Her mouth pulls into a straight line when she eyes the ice cream that Noah’s clamouring for. “Why did you buy that? You know I don’t want him having it.”

“Ice cream Daddy!” His little body is bouncing up and down as he tries to reach for the tub.

“It’s a treat.”

“And if we’re not careful, treats become the norm. God, Fury, why do you always do this?”

I grab a bowl and spoon as Lynette and I do what we do best. “I’m not getting into this in front of him, Lynette.”

“You are such a—”

“Stop,” I order, my voice low in the way she knows not to go up against. “Let me get this for him and then we’ll talk.”

“Daddy!” Noah is still bouncing and excited for the ice cream.

Lynette shoots me one last dirty look before stalking out of the kitchen. I finish spooning ice cream into Noah’s bowl and then sit with him while he eats. We don’t rush; we never do when we eat together. It’s our time and I cherish the fuck out of it.

Once he’s done, I take him into his room and set him up with his toys so Lynette and I can talk in private. “I’ll be back soon,” I tell him. He’s already engrossed in his toys, though, and barely registers me leaving the room.

I find Lynette in the laundry, loading clothes into the washing machine. “I don’t intend to make a habit of giving him ice cream. He was fighting me over leaving the clubhouse; I bribed him.”

She stops what she’s doing. “Fine. But I’d really appreciate it if we could be on the same page with his food. I don’t want him staying with you, eating all kinds of rubbish, and then coming home and giving me hell because I won’t let him eat what you do.”

I scrub my hand over my face. It’s been a long day and I don’t want to go down the path she’s trying to force us down. “Fuck, that’s not what happens and you know it. Don’t twist shit just to cause a fight between us.”

“I’m not trying to do that.”

“Yeah, you are.”