Angel Girl Page 3

  The strangest thing happened then. My father smiled and nodded his acceptance at Paul. I wondered what that was about. It took a good twenty minutes to get the seven men searched and all their weapons and electronics deposited to the prospect that had driven behind their motorcade in a truck. Once everyone had been thoroughly searched by the guys they all followed Legs and Keys into our compound and straight on inside the clubhouse to the lounge where we had a bar set up. We had already locked down the rest of the property to keep them from wandering about and checking into our place or planting bugs and trackers. Paranoid? Maybe. Better safe than sorry, and with my dad, I knew no truer words had ever been spoken.

  I gave them time, watching on the security monitors as their crew settled in near the bar. Just as they all took seats, Brady and Stella were moving in behind the bar. My dad eyed the bottles of Glen Fiddich in Brady’s hands and his lips quirked up in a grin for the second time. At that, I glanced over towards Tash. “Ready?”

  “Lead the way, oh fearless one,” she chimed.

  I sighed heavily, but then led the way out to the bar. As soon as we stepped into the lounge space that separated us from them, eyes started turning in our direction and someone was elbowing my father to get his attention off the whiskey and towards me.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” he intoned quickly while looking me over. “When Sweet told me you were here, and running your own damn club, I thought for sure he was mistaken.” My father stood and started making his way to me. The girls from our club were scattered about the room taking in the situation. They had all been briefed not to let their guards down, and not to drink anything with liquor in it. As a matter of fact, we were all stuck with bottled water that we had to open ourselves. I knew better than to allow anyone in my crew to be off their game even a little bit while these guys were around. “You grew up nice, kid.” I suppose that was a compliment coming from my dad. Coming from the man he became after my mom died anyway. My dad – the one from before her death – would have had far sweeter words for me.

  I wasn’t much taller than the last time he’d seen me. I stood at just under five feet, seven inches and maintained a healthy amount of muscle tone and womanly curves. I had my mother’s olive skin-tone and jet-black hair. The one thing I got from my dad, besides my intelligence, was his unusual turquoise eye color. “Hell, I’d never have thought of you as running a club, but I gotta say, from what I’ve seen and heard, you’ve been kicking ass at it. You know how to make your old man proud, even if you did have to run away to do it.” Then a ghost of something almost akin to sadness crossed his features briefly. It had been there and gone again quicker than the blink of an eye.

  “Ghost,” I refused to call him dad in front of anyone. He’d already tried to bring down my respectability by calling me kid in front of the whole room.

  He chuckled. “Seriously? Can’t even get a ‘hi dad’ from you or a hug?”

  “No,” was the only response I offered as I moved over to the seat at the end of the bar that Paul had saved for me. “This is Tash, my VP. You’ve already met Keys and Legs, our security specialists. And of course Paul, David, and Aaron who work for Redemption, Inc.” I watched as the guys in my dad’s entourage took in the women around the periphery of the room then I raised my voice so they all heard me clearly. “The women you see around this room are part of my club in one way or another. There are no club whores, sweet butts, or relievers here for your enjoyment. You will show each member of my club respect while you are here, or you won’t be here long.” When no one responded to my statement, and the leering continued, I pounded my fist on the bar and raised my voice just a little bit higher. “Do I make myself clear?”

  There was a sparkle of something in my father’s eyes as he watched me then nodded his agreement. I dare say it was a glimmer of respect, but I knew better than to think my dear old dad would give two shits about anyone involved in a female motorcycle club. Still, none of his men answered, and that caused him to turn toward his men. “My daughter just asked all you fuckers a question, and she’s waiting on an answer. I do believe she just told all of us that if the club hosting us, and all its members, weren’t respected we could pretty much fuck off. I have business to discuss, so you assholes better show some fucking respect and answer her.” While I was shocked as shit that my dad had just thrown down the law on his own men like that, I kept my face a blank mask.

  They all, in turn, began mumbling their agreements before proceeding to ignore my presence again and place their drink orders. The vast majority were hitting up the beer we kept on tap. Idiots. I wondered how long it would take for them to notice that none of us were imbibing. My father sat closest to me at the bar. He still looked incredibly young, but then again he’d only been 19 when my mom got pregnant with me, so I guess there was something to be said for starting early. He had sandy blond hair with no hint of gray just yet, the same almost aqua colored eyes I shared with him, and a face anyone could see was handsome, even if he was my father. The man kept himself in shape too, unlike Peety, who was sitting behind him with his bloated belly and a halo of long, stringy, silvering hair. I assumed Peety was about 10-15 years older than my father, but honestly I had no clue. Some of these guys lived hard and it aged them prematurely if they let it.

  Beside Peety was Spike. If I had to guess, he was probably in his earlier thirties even though he gave off a younger devil-may-care vibe. Two more guys sat on the opposite side of Spike. I wasn’t sure who they were, but their bottom rocker made it clear they were local boys. Then Wallace “Quickshot” McIntyre sat just beyond them. I had known that boy damn near my whole life; minus the year he entered the world before I did. We’d grown up so close, more like brother and sister than friends, that I never really found the time to appreciate just how good looking he actually was. Quickshot had grown a little taller, and bulked up on a whole hell of a lot more muscle in the past seven years since I’d seen him. The boy I had once been so close to now looked like a full grown, very sexy man. His wheat blond hair was cropped short and spiky while his warm golden brown eyes twinkled even in the crappy bar lighting we had going on. Sitting beside him, rocking yet another ball cap, and flirting with Stella, was my supposed betrothed, Sweet.

  Everyone carried on quiet conversations all around the room with one another while Ghost and I had a bit of a stare off. I refused to look away even when Brady asked if he could get me anything. “Bottle of water,” I announced without breaking eye contact with dear old dad.

  Ghost finally turned, but with a purpose. He was taking note of what everyone else was drinking and why things were so subdued in our clubhouse. “You ladies don’t drink?” He finally asked after putting two and two together.

  “Oh, we party with the best of ‘em, Ghost. We just don’t mix business and pleasure.”

  My father’s eyes lit up and twinkled with amusement. “Fuck! You are a ball of surprises, Jamie. Your mother’s beauty and my calculating brains.” He shook his head musing to himself before glancing down at Sweet on the other end of the bar where he was still flirting with my very gay bartender. “Your woman down there seems to be just fine mixing the two with that idiot of mine though.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah,” I laughed. “That or she’s into women, and just enjoys good tips.”

  Ghost laughed at that too. “Come on now, Jamie. That’s not what I meant anyway. I chose him for you for a reason.” Ghost smiled at me, leaned forward, and lowered his voice so only he and I would be privy to his next words. “I’ve never been blind. I saw the way you watched him from the time you were 16. Saw how he would sneak looks at you too. He wasn’t the only one though. My mistake was trying to force a claim before one of the other jackasses in the club attempted to win your affections. I just knew Sweet wouldn’t allow himself to go there without the directive since you were my daughter. Out of all of the idiots in my club, I knew he’d be the only one close enough to being worthy of you.”

  “Yeah, he was so worthy of me,
that’s why he openly picked up two club whores in front of me after you announced I was his intended.” I huffed out the words on a laugh as I rolled my eyes.

  “I did just say he was an idiot, didn’t I?” My dad countered. I couldn’t argue that so I just shrugged my shoulders. Hell, if I was honest, I was truly speechless. This was the first time my father had ever tried justifying his actions, and damn if they hadn’t sounded genuine. It was also the first time he admitted he was wrong for doing it. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, so I just kept my mouth shut.

  I watched as Ghost surveyed the room again. “Honestly, looks like you might have been better off doing things your own way, baby girl. I just wish it hadn’t been seven years since I heard from you.” He shook his head in disdain then. “Can’t get those years back.” I got ready to tell him how that was all his fault, but he interrupted me. “I know. My fault. Doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you all this time. Hell, you did a fine damn job of staying under the radar all this time too. We’ve looked for you.” That little glimpse of sadness sneaked into my dad’s features again. “I sometimes thought maybe the worst had come to pass, because surely you couldn’t stay mad at me that long. I have enemies, Jamie. Nothing stopping them from hurting you to get to me, you know.”

  “Your enemies would have let you know if they’d found me,” I tossed out casually. Spike and the other two men from his chapter were trying to mingle with my club members now. I kept check on where everyone was while I waited for Ghost to get to the point of this little impromptu meeting.

  “Jamie, the club is expanding. You’ve met Peety and Spike. They’re working hard to set up a new chapter here. I need to know you aren’t going to cause trouble for them like you did with Winter’s Renegades.” A barely there smirk hinted at his delight in our fucking over the other much-hated MC.

  “As was previously stated, we have no problem unless your guys bring trouble in. The WRs were running women through here. It’s a dirty business and we took care of the problem before it infected the area. If your guys sling mud on our town, and run our customers off, we will not hesitate to protect our business ventures, and mete out swift justice.”

  Ghost nodded his head, as Peety stood beside him now, once again red-faced and burning up with anger. “Look here, bitch…” Peety started to say.

  My dad whirled around so quickly Peety didn’t have a chance to step back before my father’s hand was wrapped around his throat and squeezing. “My daughter already warned you about respecting her in her own house. You need to check your temper or we’ll be finding someone more capable of wearing this patch,” Ghost flicked his finger over the president’s patch on Peety’s chest as he loosened his grip on the man.

  “I get that she’s your daughter, but I’m not about to have any other MC tell me how to handle my business, bitch club or not.” My dad’s fingers found their way around the dumb ass’s throat once more. Spike and his boys were too enamored with my girls to pay any attention to the trouble their Prez was in. Inwardly I was high fiving the girls for doing such a great job at distracting them. Actually, it seemed Spike was well aware of what was going on and chose not to interfere. Interesting.

  Ghost shook his head at Peety. “Man, you just don’t know how to control your shit, do you? My boy already put the word out to me that maybe you didn’t have the temperament for the job. Thought I’d see for myself. I’m seeing.”

  Peety was fuming, red-faced, and looking plenty uncomfortable as he hung an inch or so off the ground in my dad’s grip. That was no small feat considering how heavy the man must be. “Your guys haven’t even realized you’re in the shitter yet. Sweet told me that he lacked confidence in your abilities to lead the men too. Now, I see why.” Ghost let out an audible sigh and pointed to an empty table in the corner. “See that table? Go, sit, and don’t say a word to anyone until we’re ready to leave. If you can listen until then maybe all you’ll lose is your position and not your kutte.” Peety’s eyes grew wide with the implication, but he did what he was told.

  “I fuckin’ told you he was a useless piece of shit,” Sweet stated matter of factly.

  “Hell, I thought you were over-exaggerating because you don’t like people, Sweet.”

  With that, Quickshot belly-laughed before setting those mesmerizing golden-brown eyes on me. A flash of anger spiked through them before he managed to tamp it down. Of everyone I ran from, I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t blame Quick if he was angry with me. “Hey, hey, sweet girl. You’ve had us all worried for a long time,” he said to me as he pulled me in for a hug that I allowed. I’d always loved Quickshot. We’d known each other since diapers seeing as how we were both club babies, born and bred. We’d spent far too much time together over the years, and I never regretted a single second of it. I did ache at all the time we lost because I didn’t think he’d throw away his allegiance to the club in order to keep my whereabouts quiet.

  “Good to see you, Quickshot,” I breathed out with genuine meaning attached to the words. I may have run from my dad’s edict and Sweet’s callousness, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t left part of my heart behind with my first MC family.

  “This asshole,” my father complained. “He gets hugs and a sincere ‘good to see you’ while all I get is a brush off and a power-struggle, epic stare-down.”

  The guys all laugh while Quickshot beamed a wide grin my way. “When you paint the walls with shit together in the nursery, an unbreakable bond forms. What can I say?” Quickshot explained with a shrug of his shoulders.

  Tash let loose her own belly laugh then, reminding me that she was still there at my back. “Well, there’s an image you can’t unsee. Angel Girl painting with shit.” Brady, who was standing nearby behind the bar laughed too.

  “Don’t worry, Angel, you’re the sexiest shit painter ever.” I knew Brady said it for my benefit to throw the guys off of me, but they didn’t realize that. I could have sworn I heard Sweet growl, and damn if his eyes weren’t busy tracking Brady now as he went about his business. Quickshot laughed, adding insult to injury.

  “You doing the help? I thought your daddy taught you better than that.” Quick asked me in a low tone.

  I simply gave a small shake of my head, one I’m certain Sweet missed, because he was still tracking Brady’s every movement. None of them needed to know that he was in a serious relationship with Trixy, the manager down at Paramour. I would definitely have to hook him up with a bonus for the quick flirt though.

  Quickshot seemed to have caught on to what was happening and just grinned while shaking his head at me. “You never change, do you?”

  “Why would I? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and all that horseshit.” He laughed at me, and I even saw my dad grinning. Sweet had moved away and went back to flirting his sexy ass off with Stella. Too bad he didn’t appear to have any gaydar to speak of. The fact that Stella was only into chicks just made me chuckle. He was beyond wasting his time there, but she’d keep flirting back in order to get tips. It’s what she did for a living, and she was good enough at it we kept her employed. I turned and locked eyes on my dad’s steady gaze.

  “It seems you guys have some internal stuff to take care of where the new chapter is concerned. When you get that shit taken care of bring whoever you put in charge back by and we’ll see if we can play nice together. I meant what I said though. I make no promises about staying neutral if your shit hits our fan. Our involvement, or lack thereof, boils down to whether or not your new chapter keeps their dirty laundry out of our basket.” I chuckled while trying to come up with more clever metaphors to shoot his way, because it kept me entertained and focused on something other than the fact that my dad was right here in front of me, and no matter how much I wanted to hate him forever the fact remained that he was still my dad at the end of the day, and not seeing him for seven years hurt me too.

  “I read you loud and clear, Jamie. You know none of us in this life can make guarantees, just like that mess with Winter’s
Renegades, shit can pop up and happen at any time. Aces High keeps our asses out of the major stuff for the most part, but we all have enemies that will try to cut through what they perceive is the weakest link. You know this. A new chapter is usually the weak link, because they’re still working out the kinks.”

  I nodded at my father. “We understand growing pains, but when it affects our businesses or the safety of our members, we will act. This is the only warning you’ll be given about it.”

  My father tipped his head to me again in his non-verbal agreement. “I would actually love to sit down and pick your brain sometime about how you got everything sitting so pretty and legit. You ladies seem to be doing real well for yourselves without having to get your hands too dirty. I’m real proud of you, Jamie.”

  I offered up a small smile as Quickshot’s grin grew behind my father’s back. He knew how rare it was to get praise from Ghost. Those words meant the world to me, even if I couldn’t show it in front of the room full of people.

  “We’re going to finish up our drinks and get out of your hair then.” For some reason I was a little disappointed that my dad didn’t want to stick around for a bit. I don’t know if it showed on my face or if our train of thought was headed in the same direction, but he continued on. “I’d really like to get together again, maybe have dinner or something, before I head back. It’s up to you, Jamie.” He tossed a folded piece of paper up on the bar. “Just call and let me know. I’ll be here until next Friday.”

  I tucked the piece of paper in the front pocket of my jeans and smiled once more. “We’ll see how things go.” Silence descended upon us, but it wasn’t the awkward kind. It was just the sit back and enjoy your beer, or water in my case, type of vibe. That was what Ghost seemed to be doing as I sipped on my bottle of water. Quickshot ran off to go let the guys from the local club know they would be leaving soon, and that left me a moment to tune into Stella and Sweet’s conversation accidentally.