“She forced me to wear dresses,” I reluctantly admit and he stumbles back, his mouth dropping and I swallow hard as I turn and show him my back—the burn marks and scars that are still visible despite the tattoos—and say, “I got those when I went against her.”
I turn back to him to see him holding his chest, and I panic.
Fuck, is he having a heart attack?
"Dad?!" I question and step forward, my eyes wide but he puts his hand up, keeping one on his chest, and chokes , “The long hair? The nail varnish? It wasn’t a phase?” I swallow and shake my head, and he asks, “And then at fourteen?”
“Kate became the daughter she wanted, and I was forced to date her. Otherwise, she gave me more burn marks and threatened to show the videos and photos of how she dressed me,” I croak and he turns around, breathing heavily.
“The reason you never came to the club before handing in your cut, why she doesn’t know your address, or why you never speak to her…” He questions again, turning to look at me, wanting the confirmation.
I say, “It’s all because of her and the blindness you, my own father, and my club brothers had where she was concerned over me.”
Dad’s mouth bobs like a fish, his face pale, but before he can ask any more questions, a knock sounds at the door, confusing me and I frown but I can’t help the small smile that forms when Jas calls out of habit, “I’ve got it.”
Fuck, I never knew how much I missed that.
“You’ve missed her,” Dad whispers with sadness.
"With every goddamn bone in my body, and I hate it because she chose to run," I admit, not looking his way. My voice tightens as I continue, "It's true, and I wish it wasn't," revealing just how much I struggle with it.
“Your mother twisted her arm, son,” he says, choking back pain and I look down.
“But she knew who I was, Dad,” I whisper in return, just as Jas calls, “Logan, it’s for you, your cougar is back.”
I shoot my head up and my eyes widen as my dad’s mouth drops open, and I mutter, “Fuck” as I quickly rush past him.
My dad follows and demands, “I thought you hadn’t touched that woman since meeting Jasmine?!”
“I haven’t,” I growl as we walk towards the front door, just as I hear Jas encourage, “I dare you,” her voice low and menacing.
Shit.
“Okay, I now see your concern wasn’t about Lyndsey confessing you two have been at it like rabbits,” my dad states unhelpfully and I roll my eyes at him.
Fucker.
I stop just behind Jas, my girl whose face is red, her hands before her, ready to fight, and my lips twitch.
She’s so fucking adorable.
“Fierce woman you’ve got, son,” my dad mumbles beside me, and I hum because yeah, that she is.
She went on the run while pregnant just to fucking save our daughter and me so I know she’s fierce. I know she’s always wanted freedom, which is why deep down I believe she most likely took that way out, and that is a hard fucking pill to swallow.
“Hey Tank,” Lyndsey says, husking her voice like my father and girl aren’t standing with me, gaining my attention, and I scrunch my nose at the fucking cliché.
Fuck me, it’s seven years ago all over again.
Jas mumbles quietly, “Well, it’s good to know your cougar whore doesn’t call you your legal name,” but again, my lips twitch because, of course, I heard her.
Is it bad that I love her jealousy when before her I fucking hated it?
“No one is allowed to call him his birthname, so respect that!” Lyndsey snaps, and I growl, taking a step forward, ready to strangle the bitch for talking to my girl that way because of course, Jas is still and will always be my girl, but Jas chuckles, stopping me.
“Funny, I’m pretty sure it says Logan on my ribs, not Tank, and on our daughter’s birth records too,” Jas gloats, my stomachtightening at her words, my heart fluttering knowing she put me on Aisling’s records, before she leans forward and grins, “And it’s my name tattooed large down his forearm.”
Lyndsey’s eyes widen the more Jas speaks, especially at the daughter comment, but they soon swing to my arms, where they are crossed over my chest to see if Jas is telling the truth.
