“Uncle Thumper?” I ask in shock.
Hazel nods. “I think they call him that because he had a rabbit as a pet.”
Wylder chuckles under his breath. “Something like that.”
“I think I know him. Long gray beard and a tattoo of a bald eagle on his arm?” I ask because there’s no way the two can be related.
Thumper is in the same MC as Rowdy. The bunch of assholes that wanted to end me not that long ago. Before then, Thumper was always nice to me, but when they thought I ratted out the club, all of them wanted to see me dead.
Wylder nods. “That’s him and the one who gave me this.” He points at the black eye that’s now turned all different shades of purple.
I grimace. “He did that?”
“Yep. He’s an asshole.”
He was that. Unfortunately, I learned it when it was too late.
Hazel gasps. “Bad word, Daddy.”
“I’ll pay the swear jaw when I get home, princess.”
“You’ve sworn a lot today.”
Wylder glances up toward the ceiling of the restaurant. “The kid hears everything,” he mutters. “I’ll throw a twenty in there to cover the rest of the day. Happy, Hazel?”
Hazel nods with a giggle. “It’s getting really full.”
Wylder looks at me, still holding the tofu on his fork. “When the jar is full, I let the girls decide what to do with it.”
“Last time, we bought a trampoline,” Maddy tells me.
“Don’t forget the video games,” Hazel adds.
I raise an eyebrow as I look at Wylder. “I bet it fills up fast, huh?”
“Too quick,” he grumbles, but I think he secretly loves it.
“What are you guys going to get next?”
Maddy shrugs. “Hazel wants a new swing set for the backyard.”
“And you don’t?” I ask her when she seems less than enthused about the prospect.
“I’m kind of old for swings.”
“You’re never too old for swings. They’re relaxing. I always walk away with a clear head after I swing a while.”
“You have a swing set?” Hazel asks.
I shake my head. “Not at my place, but my parents have one from when we were little.”
“Lucky,” Hazel whispers.
“I’m good with getting one. Maybe I’ll like it,” Maddy says, but only because I said I loved mine. Typical kid.
Wylder lifts his fork closer to his mouth, and all movement at the table stops.
“Are you all going to stare at me?” His eyes move around the table to the three of us.
