Page 29 of Stone

“Sorry, Stone, but you’re my brother and your family is my family, so you didn’t have exclusivity on this one.”

“Cunt,” I snigger back at him, a smirk painted on my face.

“Don’t you just know it,” he replies smugly, owning the name and wearing it well.

ChapterNineteen

Stone

It’s been three weeks since we left what would have made serious revenue for the Young Outlaws back in that warehouse, but I guess money doesn’t always take precedence when it comes to keeping our MC family safe.

The first five days, I stayed at the clubhouse twenty-four seven, spending my time digging into the background of Doherty and Lyons, which had been hard. But worth every minute despite missing precious time with my baby girl, Sasha. I’ve come up with a heap of information not just on them but also a clearer whereabouts on Jimmy and his gang of cunts.

Not being around to witness the sweet innocent, and carefree interaction as Sasha and Oriana play and get to know one another has affected me more than I’d have ever expected. I’ve felt that loss deeply. The normality that it would have injected into my day-to-day life.

Everything that transpired, the facts we now have, has been a lot to take in. My head feels like it’s going to burst open like an over-inflated balloon from information overload.

When you put all the information together, what we found out at the warehouse and the police report, it’s damning. We have no doubt that the Irish were behind Jacob and Savannah’s murder and that the rest of the Young Outlaws and their families are sitting targets.

At church tonight, in front of the council and members, Smoke had made clear the time is near for us to make plans and to put them in play. Strike before the Irish make their next move.

But not today. Today I get to go home. Tomorrow, we start with fresh eyes and clear minds.

I decide to leave my ride at the clubhouse and walk back to the cabin. My heart is heavy. My emotions are running high from the knowledge of exactly what caused the fatal accident that left Jacob and Savannah dead. The shattering realization that Sasha had been so close to losing her life too. My head spins. I could have lost them all.

An overwhelming need to see Sasha washes over me and has me picking up my pace. Oriana is a stickler for routine, so I should be back in time to take over Sasha’s night routine. Getting her settled into bed and reading her a bedtime story is one thing that I’ve missed. Club business has kept me busy the last few weeks, and by the time I’ve made it home, it’s been well past her bedtime. Even Oriana’s absence has been evident. She’s been locked away in her room, no doubt working hard on her thesis.

I love the club. I love Sasha, and trying to get a balance between the two is a struggle. In some ways, Oriana makes me feel surplus to requirements when it comes to Sasha’s care, but on the other hand, she’s an absolute godsend. Patient, caring and gives it one hundred percent.

When I step inside the cabin, the lights are still on downstairs, but there’s no sign of either Oriana or Sasha. I quietly close the door and make sure it’s secure before toeing off my boots. Sasha’s face, whenever she sees me, warms my heart, so the thought of surprising her thrills me, and I tiptoe up the stairs so as not to warn her I’m home.

When I get to the top of the stairs, there’s a slither of light from under the bathroom door, and I can hear the subtle noise of voices from within.

I continue to creep towards the door, the sweet sound of Sasha’s giggle and the splashing of water increasing the nearer I get. With my hand on the handle of the door, I twist and push it open and burst into the room.

“Hey, what’s all this noise,” I bounce inside, a huge smile plastered on my face. “Oh, fuck!” I choke out when I see that Sasha is not the only one sitting amongst the mountain of bubbles, but Oriana is in the tub too. I know that I should turn away, but my eyes are fixated on the creamy flawless skin of her shoulders and delicate neck, peppered with water droplets. Her hair is pulled up messily onto the top of her head, some escaped tendrils hang around her makeup-free face, wet and sticking to her flushed cheeks.

“Gabriel,” she gasps out.

“Aww, Uncle Gabe. You swarded.” Sasha reprimands, wagging a soapy finger in my direction.

I turn around, then spin back to face them. A quick shuffle of my feet is telling. I don’t know what the fuck to do.

Do I leave the room? Keep watching because, to be honest, the sight of Oriana with Sasha tucked between her legs, back to her front, playing with a bright yellow duck, a water toy in the shape of an elephant and a naked Barbie doll with bright pink hair seems strangely natural. Then I come to my senses, and my protective, father like instincts kick in.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I glare at Oriana, my voice raised and harsh and clearly showing how pissed I am. I grab a towel from the heated rail, stomp towards the tub and reach down and scoop Sasha out of the water. Once she’s stood on the mat, I wrap the towel around her.

“Gabriel?” she looks back at me with wide eyes. “I don’t understand, we’re just playing in the bath. What did I do wrong?”

When I feel Sasha’s little body shaking, I pull the towel tighter around her then wrap my arms around her thinking that she’s cold, but when I glance down at her, her bottom lip trembles, and her eyes are glassy with mounting tears. “Hey baby girl, is okay. I’m sorry I shouted.” Damn it. Raising to my feet, I bring her with me, while placing tiny kisses against her wet cheeks.

“Are you serious?” I fire back but with a much softer voice so as not to upset Sasha any further. “You’re naked.”

“No, I’m not,” she huffs out with exasperation. She suddenly stands up, the water and soap suds slide from her body, showing clearly that she’s in a white, two-piece swimsuit. “I wouldn’t do that and I thought by now you would trust me enough to know that.”

The top is one of those strapless things, although with gravity and the weight of the water-soaked fabric, I’m surprised her full, round tits aren’t on display. You can clearly see the dusky color of her nipples through the light fabric, and when my gaze drops further, she’s a trim-it-back girl, not the take-it-all-off type when it comes to her pussy.

“Ahem.” My eyes shoot up to her face when I realize I’m staring like a creeper, and she’s noticed. “Could you pass me a towel?”

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