Page 52 of Cassie
“Figured as much.” Hoss waited.
“Duck’s boy, you know him? You seen him around?”
Uh, oh. “A bit ago. You need Eli for somethin’?” Hoss had seen the boy walking through the crowd earlier with his arm around Blackie’s oldest daughter, but as far as he’d known, they’d been a matched pair for years.
“No, need to talk to someone who knows kids.” Blackie stared at him. “Someone who knows about takin’ on a kid that’s not yours.”
Hoss’ stomach rolled and he deliberately unclenched his fists, fighting against the instant aggression flooding his veins. “Gonna stop you right there, Blackie. If you’re talkin’ about Sammy, then you should know by now that he’s mine, full stop. His momma brought him into my life and he’s never walked back out.”
“Yeah, but he wasn’t always your boy. And my question ain’t about you carin’ for him. That’s always been clear as glass that there weren’t no differences between your son and daughter when it came to you. But does he talk about before? Does he have questions?” Blackie’s brow was furrowed and tight, and he frowned when Hoss shook his head. “Never? Fuck.” His chin dipped and he glared at the ground in front of his boots.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” Hoss shrugged. “Maybe I’ll be able to line up some dots for you.”
“My old lady, Peaches…see, our oldest kid isn’t biologically mine. Peaches was preggers when she came back to me, and Randi’s never known anything other than our family, you know?” Hoss nodded. “But she knows, somehow, someone told her last year, and it’s eating her insides out. If I knew who it was, I’d fuckin’ pound ’em, but I don’t, which leaves me dealin’ with the fallout.” He lifted his gaze and stared at Hoss, his expression pained and earnest. “She’s mine, like Sammy’s yours. In my heart and soul there ain’t no difference between her and any of our other kids. Mine were the first hands on her body, and the first arms that held her. She’s always been mine. But now, she’s rockin’ along with this wounded look on her face because she feels less than because it weren’t my spunk that made her.”
“Do you know who it was?” Hoss wouldn’t call whoever the man was Randi’s father, because it was clear to anyone who could see that Blackie filled that role completely.
Blackie shook his head slowly. “No, just some guy who was down here for a job. Rubber had a blowout, and I got Randi out of the deal. He’s back up in fuckin’ Ohio somewhere.”
“What does Randi want? She lookin’ to meet this guy? She wantin’ medical history or something? Or is it just curiosity?” Ohio was a big state, but the Rebels had chapters in every nook and corner of the place, so if there were a name they might have a shot at finding him. “You want help finding him to vet him before she meets him?”
“Fuck if I know. I overheard her quizzin’ Peaches the other night, asking a thousand questions about him. How tall was he, what color eyes, how did he speak, was he nice, did she think I’d like him.” Blackie growled far back in his throat and spit to the side, lifting a hand to rub across his jaw. “It’s tearin’ my old lady up, and that tears me up. The other kids know something’s up, but as far as I know, they don’t have the story.”
“Yet.” Hoss offered him a grim smile. “Kids are kids, and they figure shit out fast. How old is Randi now?”
Blackie’s jaw moved back and forth. “Twenty-five.”
“Late to be finding out something like that.” Blackie nodded. “Sammy knew his sperm donor. Knew all the bad about the man, even before he tried to take my boy away.”
“Fuck, I’d forgotten about that. You had to race down to ’Bama.” Hoss took a breath and nodded sharply, once. “So he had memories, but not a good one in the mix.”
“Yeah. All he ever wanted was someone to take care of his momma like she deserved, and I was lucky enough she picked me.” Hoss swallowed hard, pushing past the familiar pain, surprised when he found it lessened than in the past. “Once I won her, he came fast. When the man was killed in prison, Sammy didn’t flinch, didn’t question. Just said ‘Good’ like it was something he’d been waiting on.”
“You gave him your name?”
Hoss nodded again. “His ask, when he knew I was gonna beg his mom to marry me. He wanted to be mine, too. That’s where my situation is so different from yours. I was blessed with him, like you were Randi, but he picked me and never looked back.”
“She never questioned why her last name was Peaches, and not mine.” Blackie’s head hung, chin dipping towards his chest. “That’d be a big fuckin’ clue right there. She’s mine, but I never put that legal piece to it. Peaches didn’t want to dig up anything on the guy, and she would have had to for me to adopt our girl.”
“It’s not too late.” Hoss shrugged. “You wanna tie a knot in it and keep things from unraveling, you could get the papers together and have her sign ’em.”
“You don’t think twenty-five is too old to be doin’ that?” Blackie looked over at him, head cocked sideways and one brow lifted to his hairline.
“Nope. Not if it settles her soul.” Hoss shook his head. “Never too late to make sure someone knows how much you love ’em.”
Blackie’s gaze swept back to the stage where Chase and Benny had teamed up to sing on a single mic, the music rolling from them as naturally as breathing. “You are 100 percent right.” He sighed. “Dude’s a biker, but not in the RWMC. He’s in Celina or Columbus, I’ve heard both.” He cut his eyes back to Hoss with a grimace. “He ain’t a cool dude.”
“What’s that mean, exactly?” Celina was close to three RWMC chapters, Fort Wayne included, and they had a chapter in Columbus. Given the proximity, it wasn’t unreasonable for any of their men to know him, including Hoss. “You got a name then?”
“Yeah. Bedlam. Heard of him?” Hoss froze in place. Blackie eyed his reaction and cursed softly, then said, his voice low and pained, “You know him.”
“Fuck yes. Sayin’ he ain’t a cool dude is like sayin’ the sun is kinda hot. Understatement of the year.” He shook his head. “Jesus. Bedlam’s crazy. Certifiable, you know?” Blackie huffed out a sigh and nodded. Hoss took in the defeated expression settling into place on his face and decided. He pulled out his phone and hit a number. Myron answered. “Need you by the camp, brother. Got a job for ya.” He disconnected and lifted a hand to Blackie, who gripped his wrist tightly. “We’ll pull up papers and, if we need to, if it will settle your woman or girl’s mind, I’ll even have someone pay a personal visit, get those fuckers signed. We’ll get you your girl, Blackie. She doesn’t need to have anything to do with that crazy fucker.”
“Thank you.” The words were heartfelt and Blackie followed them up by pulling Hoss close to pound his back hard with one closed fist. “Thank you.”
“We got you, brother.” Hoss shook his head, brain swimming with the memories of making this same decision for Sammy, and knowing it was the right one. “We got you.”
