Headstrong Like Us (Like Us 6)

Donnelly nods to me and my fiancé. “Your baby is a blood-relative of mine, and I’m Xander’s bodyguard. Which means that I’m like family. Murdering me is like murdering one of his own.”

“Man, you’ve got Cobalts Never Die tattooed on your knee. Loren Hale isn’t going to think you’re one of us.”

Luna props up on her elbow. “I won’t let my dad kill him.”

Donnelly stares right at me. Rumors have been circulating in security about the guys that Luna made out with in New York. I can’t say which fucker overheard what or where, but bodyguards are talking.

And they’re saying Lo got those guys black-listed from every nightclub in New York City and Philly.

I’d call bullshit, but Oscar thinks they could’ve been banned from the clubs the famous ones frequent. Who knows what else Lo did, what he could’ve done or can still do.

These families are powerful, and they have the ability to destroy people. Loren Hale is the Emperor of Petty, and he’s extremely protective of his daughter.

Maximoff is in a serious daze. And he breaks out of the stupor. Eyeing Donnelly. “I’m hung up on the ‘your baby’ part—you know that we’re just temporary dads to Ripley? At some point, Scottie will be released from prison, and we plan to help him get clean for reunification.”

“What?” Donnelly gapes at me.

My chest tightens, and I glance at the baby monitor in my hand. “If Scottie’s willing to take the steps to be healthy for his son, then we have to respect that, Donnelly.”

He rolls his chair back from Luna, upset.

“Donnelly—”

“Scottie isn’t looking to get clean, Farrow. He laughed in my face when I saw him.”

Maximoff steps forward. “Wait, you talked to him?” We tried, but Scottie refused the visitation.

“I went to the state penitentiary,” Donnelly confirms and turns more to me. “He’s just holdin’ onto his parental rights because he knows Maximoff Hale has the baby. So when he comes out, he’s one-degree away from this family.”

He doesn’t care about his kid.

My jaw tenses, acid spilling in the back of my throat.

Maximoff looks murderous, but I’m sure there’s a part of his moral heart that believes, Scottie can change. But we both hold each other’s gaze in a vice.

If we’re anything, it’s protective. And I can’t put a child in negligent, callous hands. Especially the child we’ve been caring for as dads.

A garage door groans open. Cutting into the heavy tension. I check the window, peering behind the blinds. Shit.

“Your dad’s home.”

Luna takes a sharp breath, about to fling herself off the table.

“Wait.” Donnelly rolls back to her. “I have to clean your tattoo first.” He wipes her thigh.

“I’ll stall him,” Maximoff starts, but flinches at the sound of a door banging.

“LO! FUCKING SLOW DOWN!” We all recognize the voice—it’s Ryke Meadows.

And Maximoff bolts.

I’m right behind him.

18

MAXIMOFF HALE

My dad isn’t aimed for my sister’s room or seconds from burying Donnelly in a pit of damnation. As I run down the staircase, I see my uncle is chasing my dad into the kitchen.

They have zero clue about the tattoo session upstairs.

That’s all I know.

That’s all I’m processing.

I follow their tracks, Farrow hot on my heels, and they barrel out the back door.

We sprint outside to the patio, the May air temperate. Clouds roll over the bright sun. Shadows dancing on the stone-edged pool and lounge chairs.

My dad skids to a halt near the grill.

I go cold, seeing the bottle of Maker’s Mark in my uncle’s hand.

Ryke fists the red waxy seal. It’s sealed. Still full. “Why was this in your fucking car?!”

“I’m not doing this with you!” my dad yells. “Go back to your cottage and eat your cardboard granola cereal—”

“Just answer the fucking question—”

“What do you want me to say?!” my dad sneers, walking up into Ryke’s chest. “That I’m the bastard who went to a liquor store and bought whiskey?”

Ryke is trying hard not to shove him back.

I run ahead and push my dad and uncle apart. They fall back immediately like I shocked them with a live wire. “What the hell?” I growl, staring from my dad to Ryke. Both are still zoned in on each other.

Farrow hangs back, but as our eyes touch for a moment, I’m met with his deep understanding.

My chest rises.

Ryke hoists the bottle. “This is—”

“I bought that three weeks ago,” my dad cuts him off. “Jesus Christ, I forgot it was even in my car.”

“You forgot?” Ryke asks harshly, doubtful.

“Yeah, big brother.” His voice tries to soften on brother. “If I’d remembered, I would’ve thrown it in the goddamn garbage to save myself the lecture.”

Ryke rolls his eyes.

I turn to my dad. “You’re okay? I thought Grandmother Calloway stopped harassing you and Mom? We invited her—”

“I asked you not to, Moffy,” he cuts me off. “She shouldn’t even have a crooked old toe on the same soil as your wedding. You both didn’t want her there.”