Page 42 of Chelsea’s Knight

The diminutive redhead is always on my fucking mind, ever since I heard clear as a bell my psyche tell me she was mine. But like many gingers, she’s stubborn as fuck, so as much as I strive to help her with Rosie and Roxie, she insists on doing it all herself.

Kind of makes me proud, though, because her bastard of an ex may have temporarily knocked her down a peg or two, but he didn't take her out of the game completely. I think of all the ways she’s helped us at the shop, which has increased our profits substantially, and grin because she did that and managed to help Shark find his own place within the club.

“I’ve got the store bucks from when we helped Patsy reset the store and wanted to give them to her so she can go shopping with the old ladies on Black Friday,” he says, holding up an envelope. “Also went ahead and did payroll plus a few bonuses.”

“She’s definitely earned one.”

“Which is why Poseidon had me cut one for her now. She’s gonna get another one closer to Christmas, like everyone else.”

“I’m sure she’s around, brother. Want me to give it to her?”

“If you don’t mind. Kind of wanna take my old lady, the baby, and go sleep off this impending food coma that Momma M, Mary, and Granny have caused.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes because I’ve been sitting back observing everything going on while thinking the same exact fucking thing. I live at the clubhouse, which isn’t a hardship in any way, but those football games are calling me and being prone on my couch is preferred to hanging with everyone else, especially since I need to get changed into something that’s more comfortable than my fucking jeans.

“Yeah, brother, go take a load off. I’ll find Roane, hand this over, then I think I’ll do the same damn thing myself.”

“She still fighting you?”

My smirk is firmly in place as I nod. “Fuck yeah, she is. But she doesn’t know me at all. I always win.”

Roane

“Go ahead and put together a couple of plates for later on,” Mary encourages as I help the other ladies clean up the veritable buffet that still has quite a lot of leftovers despite how much was eaten.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

Mary, however, doesn’t hesitate at all as she grabs several different containers and begins filling them with a variety of food. “Roane, there’s more than enough, trust me,” she insists. “I know this will help you and the girls so please, take it.”

My shoulders drop at her words before I take a deep breath and straighten my shoulders. I’m not the stupid, foolishlittle girllike Paul accuses me of being. I’m intelligent, kind, and a little bit broken thanks to his mistreatment of me and my sweet babies.

“Thank you. For everything,” I whisper my thanks, as I join her in filling up more containers. She makes sure the easier to eat foods are packed for Rosie, who is now eating regular food more often these days. Mary and her husband gave me a job when I first arrived in town, beyond broke, both emotionally, physically, and financially.

So did Atlas and by proxy, the club he’s with, the Poseidon’s Warriors MC. Mary also gave me and the girls a nice place to live; the apartment over the bakery, which is the perfect size for the three of us.

Plus, we’re safe.

Not like I expect Paul to actuallydoanything, after all. He’s the one who kicked me out of our base housing with barely any of our material things. The only reason I was allowed and able to take the car is because it was mine to begin with.

Right now, my girls are with Gia taking an overdue nap. Her oldest two are somewhat close in age to my girls, so when they started to yawn, she offered to put them down alongside her girls. As I mentally think about everything I need to take care of before I can pack them up and head home, I feel the air around me change and buzz with awareness.

Orion is here.

Ever since I met him, I’ve been hyper-aware of his presence. He’s always around, doing little odd and end things to make mine and the girls’ lives easier. While a part of me is thrilled someone cares enough to do that, another part is angry that it’s not my ex, who promised to love, honor, and cherish me until death do us part.

More like until another woman’s legs parted, but whatthefuckever.

“Roane, you got a minute?” Orion inquires, walking up to stand next to me.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Well, you know the shop’s closed for the next few days, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to go shopping with the old ladies tomorrow. I think Patsy and CeeCee are plotting our plan of attack or something.”

Not that I’ve got a lot to buy or even the money to do so, but I’ve set aside enough to get a few outfits for both girls and a toy or two. They’re still so little, they won’t know the difference even if my heart breaks that I can’t go all out for them.

“Okay, well, this is from Atlas,” he says, thrusting a thick-looking envelope at me.

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