Page 15 of Ugly Duckling
Good thing, because when I hit the end of our subdivision’s street, the entire thing was blocked off to through traffic.
“Whoa,” Lottie and I said at the same time.
I couldn’t help the damn smile that lit my face.
In the six months that I’d known about her, I’d had a lot of self-reflection to do, and I was happy to say that, though it was still very hard, I was actually happy about being a father again.
A lot of that had to do with the come to Jesus talk that Audric’s new wife, Creole, and Apollo, our resident computer genius, had with me.
Creole and Apollo, too, had lost a child.
All of them had died way too young.
Creole’s son, Damon, had died at the age of three and a half.
Apollo’s son, Tavi, had died at the age of nine.
Creole’s talk with me had been a hell of a lot gentler than Apollo’s.
She’d told me that I shouldn’t waste the gift I’d been given.
Apollo had told me in no uncertain terms that he would literally kill to have it, and if I didn’t take the opportunity that I was given, he’d beat the absolute shit out of me.
The thing with Apollo was he meant it.
He would literally whip me into shape with his fists if he had to.
I had been understandably freaking out.
I’d lost two years with Lottie.
Well, not two years exactly. I’d had a lot of time to spend with her since she’d been born.
All of the club members had.
At the time of Lottie’s mom’s death, Audric had been in a really dark place. He’d struggled with fatherhood, and at the time, we’d all rallied around him. We’d spend nights over at his place. We’d take care of Lottie during the workday. Ultimately, she was raised by the club.
At the time, we’d thought that Lottie was just too much for Audric to handle after the loss of his wife.
When in reality, what was going on was that Audric was trying to give all of us time with the little girl so that she could get to know all of us because he knew that she was one of the club’s members.
A cheer rose, pulling me out of my morose thoughts, and I looked up to find damn near every female that belonged to the club standing near the start line. One of them, Baker, Copper’s wife, was holding a sign that read: Want us to call you an Uber?
Searcy, Doc’s wife, held one that said: Run if you think I’m hot.
Eedie, Webber’s daughter, held one that said: Smile if you peed a little.
Aella, Chevy’s wife, held one that read: Who hurt you?
Then there was Silver, Webber’s wife, who held one that read: We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.
It was Creole’s that had me really cracking up: Simon says keep running.
I walked up to them and gave them all a hug.
“The only reason you were able to give us that is because our men are too hungover to get here.” Aella chortled.
I grinned. “You don’t think I would’ve done that regardless?”
