I make eye contact with Elliott, who’s playing pointon this deal, so I make my presence and authority known. I may be leaving, but I’m far from uninvolved.
Then I fire up my bike. “Any problems, you handle it any way you want.” I glare at Savage, and he grins.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I know he’ll handle this shit. He’s been by my side, at my back, or even in front of me, taking heat since he patched in to this club.
Savage is ex-military and has the most time in legit life out of everyone in the entire club. He is the one I trust to run into trouble first and not to look for a way to save his own ass. He’s got more than just the drive and the loyalty. He’s got training, guts, and passion.
“I’m out,” I say before peeling out. If my kids are in trouble, no amount of money or danger will keep me from getting to them.
I head for the address my daughter sent, trying my best to keep myself from blowing every light and running every stop sign. Holly gave me no clue what kind of trouble they are in, but this isn’t the first time my kids have used someone else’s phone to reach me.
To say the situation with my ex-wife is complicated would be putting it mildly. The power could be cut at the house. She might have left the kids alone with no dinner while she’s off with her latest fuckboy. Or there could be something more twisted that my brain couldn’t even dream up. Shayla wasn’t always the person she is now. Fuck, maybe she always was and I just didn’t see it…didn’t want to.
All I know is, the sooner I get my girls away from her, the better.
I raceinto the small parking lot at the address Holly sent me and drive toward the only building with lights still on. It’s not even dinnertime, but it’s Saturday, so most of the businesses are dark. I head for the glass door and yank with such force I’m surprised I don’t pull the thing off its hinges.
I storm into the place and immediately see my girls. My vision goes red, and I blindly run toward them.
“Come here.” I open my arms, and they both jump up and run toward me. They tackle me in a bear hug, and I close them in tight, relieved as fuck that no matter what trouble they are in, they are alive. They don’t look hurt. They’re okay.
As soon as the hug ends, the adrenaline kicks in. The girls both start talking over each other, but I’m scanning the premises for threats.
“Dad, we’re so sorry?—”
“Dad, Mom wanted us to?—”
I hold up my hand and take in the scene. The first thing I see is a woman. A stunningly beautiful woman whose intense stare makes every inch of me take notice. She’s got long, dark-brown hair curled and styled to perfection. But she doesn’t look stiff or made-up. Her full lips are glossy, and she wears sparkly makeup around her big brown eyes.
I look around, but I don’t see Shayla and, even more bizarre, the place looks calm. Holly and Daisy go back to sitting on a plush tan love seat covered in cream pillows. The woman is sitting in an armchair that looksfancier than anything I’ve ever owned. Her legs are crossed, and she’s sipping tea.
I can tell from all the sinks and shampoo bowls that I’m in some kind of beauty shop, but there are so many plants and seats, this place looks more like a café or somebody’s home. It’s nice and all, but my blood pressure won’t chill the fuck out until I know why I’m here.
“You said you were in trouble,” I say, turning toward my girls. “What happened? Where is your mother?”
Holly and Daisy trade anxious looks. My elder daughter is a lot more forgiving of her mom, and she just looks down at her hands. Daisy stands up and rushes back into my arms, her eyes filling with tears.
“Dad.” Her words come spilling out so fast, her mouth pressed against my chest, that I almost can’t understand her. “Mom brought us to this new salon for back-to-school styles and said we could get whatever we wanted. So, I got color, which is extra, because I’ve been doing the color myself at home?—”
“Hold up.” I reach for Daisy’s shoulders and lean her back to study her face. There’s no fucking way my kids would send an SOS because of a goddamn haircut. “You said you were in trouble.”
“I think I can explain.” The woman who’s been noshing on lunch with my kids stands up and extends her hand. “I’m Poppy. This is my salon.”
I look down at her hand skeptically, not sure if she’s part of the problem or trying to help. I give her hand a quick shake, but I don’t give her my name. She givesme an apologetic smile, and I notice tired-looking purple shadows under her eyes.
“Your wife—” she starts.
“Ex-wife,” I correct.
She licks her lips and nods. “Ex-wife. Well, Shayla is new to the salon. She came in for services today with your girls and left without paying. I tried charging the card we put on file when she booked the appointment, but it was declined. I don’t have any way of charging her for the services she got for herself and the girls today.”
I must look confused because Holly stands up. “Dad, Mom left us here after her hair was done.” She holds out her phone to me, and I read the group text she sent to both girls.
We’re not paying that bill, so I want you to get the hell outta there and take an Uber home when you’re done. I’ll meet you there. Be chill about it. I don’t need her calling the cops on us like that last place.
I nearly crush Holly’s phone in my shaking hands, but I know how expensive the damn thing was. I bought it for her three months ago for her fifteenth birthday.
