Page 82 of Unveiled Wounds

I laid on the floor, my six-pack on display, as I attached another piece to the bottom of the crib.

“You can look, but no touching. Yeah, definitely no touching, no matter how much you want to.”

I was already in trouble, and I figured if I let the laugh loose that was bubbling in my chest, it wouldn’t go over well. She’d stop talking to punish me, and I was having too much fun listening to this nonsense.

“Your daddy is one of the best men I know, so maybe they’re not all bad.”

Laying on the floor, I needed a minute to recover. I had laughed at all the times the brothers had called Sabre “Daddy.” Hell, I had even gotten my own licks in there every now and again, but this was different. I was Pumpkin’s daddy, and it knocked me on my ass every time I heard it. I didn’t have any experience to know if I would feel differently later on, but Ihoped not. Pumpkin was special, and I was excited to see what she would accomplish–as long as she didn’t grow too fast.

“I love you,” I said to Meredith, sitting up. My knees felt like Jell-O, and I wasn’t sure I could stand without giving away how this was affecting me.

“If you didn’t want me to help, you should have just said something,” she huffed.

I stood up from my spot on the floor, not moving for a second as I checked for stability. “This was fun, but you have to remember, I’ve been building shit for forever. I don’t need instructions.”

She rolled her eyes at me. “Sure thing.”

“I love you,” I said again, leaning over her until she rocked backwards to look up at me. “You’ve always been it for me, even when I wanted to deny it.” I pecked her lips, withdrawing when she tried to deepen it. “Your mommy is a smart woman. She picked us, and we won’t let her down.” I dug my fists into the mattress, leaning over Meredith to kiss Pumpkin’s forehead. They were my family, and I would give them everything, even if they didn’t ask for it.

That was when the thought hit me.

Diego Lopez was an immediate threat to my family’s happiness.

***

We’d been kicking ideas around since the barn on how to eliminate Diego, but no one had anything solid. Anytime we thought we were close, there was always that one piece that made the whole thing fail. The battle was coming, but how or when was still a mystery.

There was one man who might have some answers. Gerry was busy playing both sides of the fence, and it was only a matter of time before he showed up injured or, worse, dead.

Sneaking out of my bedroom, I clutched the door handle, making sure the lock didn’t make noise as it clicked into place. I’d waited until my girls were sound asleep. I didn’t want to have to explain why I was creeping out in the middle of the night. The story wouldn’t go over very well, and I didn’t have the energy to fight my wife over her father. If she caught me, at least she wouldn’t think I was cheating.

A voice scared me shitless as I entered the main room.

“You had the same idea I did,” Sabre said, standing from his barstool.

I grabbed my chest, making sure I wasn’t having a heart attack. “We have to go on the offense, or we’ve already lost.”

He nodded before following me out the front door. We took the porch steps, turning toward the line of bikes, but there was a shadow sitting halfway down. Pretty was waiting for us, eating a snack cake.

“What are you doing up?” Sabre asked him.

“Are you eating your feelings?” I chimed in. It was funny when Pretty waxed poetic about the potato salad, but things had changed, and I was getting concerned.

“I’m a growing boy, and you two are going to need me to deal with the front desk clerk.”

He was right, and neither one of us said anything.

“Where’s your bodyguard?” If Pretty was somewhere, Wreck was nearby. I didn’t mean to stroke any flames, but they’d been out of sync since Christmas.

“I don’t keep tabs on him.” Pretty swiped his hands down the legs of his jeans, white powder floating in the air.

There was no point in arguing as we rolled out. It didn’t take long before we were pulling into the parking lot of the high-endhotel the cartel was putting Gerry up in. There were cameras around the property, so we didn’t hide, but we didn’t advertise our business either.

“I’m up.” Pretty took off his helmet. He swaggered up to the double doors of the hotel and hit the intercom button. We were too far to hear what was being said, but the front desk clerk buzzed him in.

“I don’t know how he does that,” Sabre commented, removing his helmet and hanging it from his handlebars.

“He’s always been like that. Just be glad he’s on our side.” Pretty got a bad rap, but if we took a vote, he was probably the most loved brother.

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