Breaking Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 4)

“You will?” Lyla asks, clearly startled.

“Yeah. I’ll be bringing my wife here to meet you.”

“Why?”

“She’ll w-w-want to m-meet the mother of her g-g-grandchild,” I answer for Dad.

“Goodbye, Dragon,” she answers, not responding to me. “I’ll think I’ll go to the club and get Dad to—”

“You’ll g-get your ass inside b-b-before you get hurt,” I order, barely controlling my anger, but trying to keep my head here. I have to keep Lyla safe—even if she fights me every step of the way.

“Excuse me?” Lyla gasps.

“It’s n-not safe. Get inside.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Thomas.”

“You c-c-claimed me as your old man.”

“I did that to save your life and even if you were my man—”

“Y-you claimed me and have my b-baby in your b-b-belly. There’s no w-were. I am.”

“You are an asshole,” she huffs and then she marches back inside, slamming the door hard enough that it’s a wonder it stays on its hinges.

“Maybe you should move slow there, son. That girl has had a ton of shit hit her lately.”

“She’ll settle in t-t-t-to how things are,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck.

Dad grins. “There’s always been more of your mother in you than me, and that’s a good thing.”

“Dad—”

“But sometimes when I watch you, small things pop up, like the way you rub the back of your neck when you’re stressed, and that’s when I see more of me in you.”

“Dad…” I stop because I don’t really know how to respond.

“I ever tell you the biggest lesson your mother ever taught me, T?”

“What’s that?”

“Where women are concerned, sweet gets you a lot closer to where you want to be than sour.”

“P-p-p-pretty sure where Lyla is involved, sweet or s-s-sour w-w-wouldn’t matter. She h-hates me. Hell, I d-deserve it.”

Dad slaps his hand down on my shoulder. “She cares or she wouldn’t have shown up at the hotel and you wouldn’t be staying here now. Don’t ruin that. Feed it, boy.”

“H-how you figure I’m g-g-going to do that?” I sigh, feeling damn tired.

“Hell if I know, but you and this girl got close. You have to know her better than I do. Unless you were too busy imagining she was Gabby the whole time.”

“F-f-fuck. Truth is, I w-w-wished she l-looked n-n-nothing like Gabby.”

“Then let her know you don’t see Gabby when you look at her.”

“Sh-she w-w-w-wouldn’t b-b-b-believe me.”

The conversation is getting to me. I hate when that happens because my stutter gets worse, and I swear the weight of Dad’s eyes on me feels so heavy I have to fight to push through and not retreat to the safety of isolation. It takes so much fucking work to be around others. No one around me truly understands that. Most of the time I feel trapped in my mind and body and I’m afraid to speak up because I know I’ll either see pity in their eyes… or worse. The stares I’ve received where people look like they might catch my stutter, as if it’s somehow in the air like a deadly disease, does damage that no one can see, but God, do I feel it.

“If she’s worth it, make her—before someone else proves he feels she is.”

“S-s-s-someone else?”

“Just a vibe I picked up in a meeting I had with Ford today. Some fucker named King. I’d watch out for that asshole if I were you.”

“He w-w-wants Lyla?” I ask, unable to stop the anger raising in my voice.

“Sure as hell seemed that way. If he comes at you, you show him no one fucks with a West. Got me, boy?”

“G-got you,” I answer.

“I’ve realized lately that I’ve messed up with you, but I just want you to know, T, I’m proud of you. You’re a better man than your old man ever was.”

It feels like my heart stops mid-beat. “How? I’ve d-d-done nothing but f-f-fuck up.”

“We all do that. It’s how you handle your mistakes that define the man you are, T.”

“Dad…” I get choked up on my emotions. I can’t get any other words out.

“Love you, T. Keep safe and always watch your damn back. You need me, you call or tell Lyla to if you go missing. I’ll be here with the fires of hell with me,” he says, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“I’ll be g-good. Love you, Dad.”

“Same, T. Down to the marrow of my bones,” he says, making me grin. Dad always says that, and it’s something we all love. He pulls me in for a solid hug and for a minute I am the little kid that always dreamed of making his father proud and for that minute in time, I allow myself to believe it’s real...

Chapter 14

Lyla

“What are you doing?” I squeak.

“M-moving my shit in here.”

My eyes go round as I look at Thomas. I look around like somehow miraculously my room will be transformed into somewhere else—anywhere but here.