Page 34 of Blue

He stroked his daughter’s hair. “We made you and River. The greatest people in the world. My most wonderful life’s work. That’s all we shoulda’ done. We had no business trying to be anything else. Now we have to be your parents apart because we sure as shit can’t do it together.”

He held her gaze and did his best to convey the truth. He needed it to really sink in. He didn’t want her to hold on to any displaced responsibility. This wasn’t her fault. She needed toknowandunderstandthat.

Starla closed her eyes and wrapped her small arms around his shoulders. When she fell against him, Mooky did his best to hold back his own tears.

He’d put them through hell with this shit. His kids and Blue. They deserved better. His arms slid around her, and he gripped her tight, ensuring she’d recognize she was safe.

He’d been a selfish prick, dragging the marriage out. In being lazy, letting it go, he’d hurt his kids and Blue. He hadn’t thought once about how this would affect any of them.

“I love you, Starla. You did nothing wrong. This is grown folks’ stuff. I’m sorry you gotta deal with our shit.”

His shirt ate her words. She’d tucked her head into his chest, and he held on tight.

The ball of guilt lodged in his throat. He gave her a tight squeeze, and the tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t stop them. There wasn’t a point. Instead, he pressed his lips to her temple, doing his best to mend what he’d broken. He had to be a better father—a better grown-up. This was his first step.

He couldn’t control Angela, but he could control himself. He needed to be honest and up front with them. In the end, they could hate him for it, or they could respect him. Either way, they’d know the truth. He’d rather they hate him for being honest than love him from a lie.

He tightened his lips into a frown when the vibration tingled against his chest. Goddamnit, it felt like a leash sometimes. The club phone nestled in the inside pocket of his cut rumbled its silent ring. Tonight was his last night with his kids before he had to send them back to his mother’s, a neutral spot for Angela to pick them up.

He didn’t want to see Angela. Nate had suggested it’d be best to avoid her until everything got finalized. Being near each other would tempt fate and them into speaking. Talking had only led to escalation. They could do without more drama. One trip to the police station was enough.

Mooky considered letting the call go to voicemail. Club business could wait ten minutes. His daughter needed him. The club could take a backseat for a half an hour. His kids came first. Especially when he’d just gotten home from a damn run and this was the time he had with them.

The vibration stopped. Starla pulled back from the hug.

“You have to get that.” She gestured to his chest before swiping the moisture from her cheeks.

With a deep inhale, he wiped at his face, frowning. She shouldn’t think of his priorities like that. The club over them.

“They can wait a little.”

“I’m huuuunnnnngggrrrryyy,” River whined as he came shuffling into the kitchen with his arms dangling. “What’s for dinner?”

He flopped into a kitchen chair, peering at the two of expectantly.

“Please tell me we aren’t having anything with onions. I hate onions,” he groaned.

Where the hell had he gotten the idea they’d eat anything with onions? There wasn’t an onion to be seen in the house.

“Hot dogs with mac and cheese,” Starla announced as she got up from her chair, heading toward the counter. “Want to help me find pots?”

As Mooky stood to his full height, he watched his children rummaging through the cabinets of the dated kitchen. The smile crawled across his face. They were resilient, and he had hope that they’d bounce back from this hiccup.

He may have screwed up the beginning of their lives, but they’d turned out to be pretty good kids. From now on, he’d fix it. He’d do better.

Heading down the hall to the small garage, he pulled the phone from his pocket. He’d expected the text calling for church. Based on his conversation with Clark and Dash, there’d be no other way. He’d had hoped to have at least a full night with his kids, but unfortunately, his club needed him.

After all, he made the mess. He couldn’t skirt it, no matter how appealing that sounded.

Then again, his favorite way to avoid things had always been Blue. In her arms or just plain inside her. He’d gone and fucked that up for now. But in time, he’d get back there. He’d find his way back into everyone’s good graces—his woman’s, his kids’, and his club’s.

But for now. He was still knee-deep in shit.

Groaning, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger across his forehead. Church would be rough. Thankfully, he had about two hours with his kids before he had to head out to go.

Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he glanced over his shoulder at the closed garage door. At least Starla was old enough to be left alone with River. He wouldn’t have to call his mother to come out, but he’d give her the heads up. She might do it anyway.

Actually, with the way Officer Shouty McFuckface had been milling around, he’d be better off with his mother there. Not that he thought the good old police officer would fuck with his kids. He didn’t want to take the chance.

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