Page 8 of Wilder's Promise
"I was sixteen. Dad had been arrested again. Some bullshit RICO charges that eventually got dropped. While he was inside, my mom found someone else. Some accountant with a golf membership and a house in the suburbs." Her voice remains steady, but her fingers twist together in her lap. "When Dad got out, she told him she was leaving, taking me with her. He lost it."
I can imagine. Reaper's temper is legendary, even among outlaws.
"What happened?" I keep my voice neutral, though my grip on the wheel tightens.
"Nothing like what you're thinking. He didn't hurt her." She shakes her head. "He just... shut down. Told her to go, that he wouldn't fight her for custody. Then he walked out and spent three days on a bender."
"And you went with your mom?"
"For a while." She laughs without humor. "Turns out suburban life with Mom and her accountant wasn't the dream she sold me. He wanted his perfect ready-made family, and I was anythingbut perfect. I was angry, rebellious, failing school. After six months of fighting, I ran away, crashed with friends until I graduated early."
I nod, filling in the blanks. "And your dad?"
"Called me every week like clockwork. Sent money I never asked for. Showed up for my high school graduation in his cut, scaring the shit out of everyone." Her mouth twists in what might be a smile. "I couldn't forgive him for giving up so easily. For choosing the club over fighting for us."
It's a familiar story in the MC world. Families torn apart by the life, but something doesn't add up. Reaper isn't the type to surrender without a fight, especially not where his daughter is concerned.
"Maybe he thought letting you go was the best way to protect you," I suggest, remembering the fear in Reaper's eyes when he sent me to get her.
"That's what he said." She turns to look at me. "But I needed a father more than I needed protection."
I want to defend Reaper, explain that sometimes the choices we make for those we love look like abandonment from the outside. But it's not my place. And the truth is, I understand her anger all too well.
"My parents walked out when I was young," I say instead. "Left me to raise my little sister. No explanation, no goodbye. Just gone one morning."
Her amber eyes widen slightly. "I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago." I shrug my good shoulder. "Made me who I am."
"Which is?"
"Someone who doesn't walk away." I meet her gaze briefly before returning my attention to the road. "Ever."
She glances at me with new interest, like she's seeing past the cut and the road name for the first time.
"Your sister," she says. "Is she in Pine Haven too?"
"Moved here a few weeks ago. She's opening a daycare." I can't help the pride that creeps into my voice. "Maya's the smart one. College degree, business plan, the whole thing."
"And she's okay with... what you do?"
"She hates it." I smile despite myself. "Reminds me every chance she gets. But she understands why I'm in the life."
"Which is?"
"Same reason your father is. Because sometimes the only way to protect what you love is to become what others fear."
Emma falls silent, absorbing this. I check the mirrors again out of habit, scanning for any vehicle that might be following. The highway stretches empty behind us, but experience has taught me that safety is often an illusion.
My phone buzzes with an incoming text. I nod toward it in Emma's lap. "Can you check that? Probably Reaper."
She picks up the phone, reading the message. "It's someone named Ghost. Says 'Clubhouse secure. Vultures MC spotted at the county line. Watch your six.'"
I clench my good fist. "Tell him we're thirty minutes out. Taking the forest route."
As she types the response, I make a sharp turn onto a barely visible access road cutting through the dense pines. The Charger's suspension protests as we bounce over the uneven terrain, but this route will get us to Pine Haven through the backcountry, avoiding the main roads where the Vultures MC might be watching.
"Whoa," Emma grabs the dashboard to steady herself. "Little warning next time?"
