Page 13 of Inked Daddies

“She can sit on whatever she wants,” Trick fake-flirts with me.

It’s only ever teasing when it comes to them. That’s all it can ever be.

6

SAM

Marie is still trembling,even though she’s trying to pretend she’s fine. She’s pretended to be fine for most of her life, so she’s good at it. But the way her hands twist the blanket Hugo gave her makes my chest ache. She doesn’t have to hold it together for us—not tonight, not ever.

She’s been through too much.

I crouch in front of her to meet her gaze, keeping my voice low and calm. “Marie, take your time. You’re not driving anywhere until I know you’re ready.”

She meets my eyes, her lips pulling into a tight, shaky smile that doesn’t reach the rest of her face. She’s still trying to reassureme, which is just like her. Even now, after the night she’s had, she’s thinking about other people. It’s that kindness that hooks people in.

Sure as hell worked on me.

“I’m fine,” she says softly. “I don’t want to keep you guys up.”

I don’t call her on it. Not yet. She’s had enough for one night without me pushing her. Butfineis the last thing she is.

The moment I saw her backed up against her car, Crow looming over her, something inside me snapped. It wasn’t just anger or fear—it was instinct, primal and all-consuming. My protective instinct has gotten me in and out of trouble. I grew up the youngest of four brothers, but I was still the one they called when shit got bad. Even after I left home, I still answered the call. But this? This was different.

This was Marie.

And seeing her scared like that? I couldn’t think straight. All I could see was the threat, and all I wanted was to destroy it.

I don’t regret what I did to Crow. He was a thug to be taken down, and that’s what I do. But now, looking at Marie, I can’t help wondering if she regrets letting me help her.

Does she see me as some violent animal? Someone who lost control and turned into something ugly? A monster? I don’t want her to see me that way. She saw the monster behind the man tonight, and I worry it will stick in her mind. That she’ll think that’s all I really am.

It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She’s safe. If she’s scared of me after tonight, so be it. Whatever it takes to keep her safe. Even if she hates me.

I tell her gently, “We’re going to follow you home.”

Marie’s brows rise, and she shakes her head. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“We’re following you home, Marie. End of discussion.”

She frowns, but the fight leaves her almost instantly. I know it’s not because she agrees with me—it’s because she doesn’t have the energy to argue. She exhales her discontent, and her posture sags along with it. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to make tonight such a mess for you guys. You’ve already done so much. I just don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Don’t apologize.” My tone is sharper than I intend, and she blinks in surprise. I adjust, softening my voice. “Never apologize for needing us.” That sounded…wrong. “Never apologize for needinghelp.”

Her lips curve into a small smile, and she tucks a wayward strand of her chocolate waves behind her ear. “Thank you. I always feel better when you’re around.”

The warmth in her voice melts something in me I didn’t even know was frozen. Those words—I always feel better when you’re around—hit me harder than I expect, wrapping themselves around my chest and squeezing tight like a hug I’ve always needed.

It shouldn’t feel like this. I shouldn’t feel like this. She’s Preacher’s daughter.

I can still remember the day he brought her into the shop for the first time, this wide-eyed little girl who was more interested in the sketches on the walls than the motorcycles out front. She must have been five or six, all big smiles and endless curiosity.

“Can I watch you draw?” she asked, her voice so earnest it made me laugh. She meant tattoo.

“You’d better ask your dad,” I told her.

Preacher ruffled her hair, giving her a warm smile. “You stay out of their way, Marie. You hear me?”

She nodded, her eyes sparkling, and for the rest of the day, she hovered around the edges of the shop, sneaking glances at the designs we were working on and peppering us with questions. Sometimes, we caught her cleaning up.

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