Melissa’s eyes widened in mock outrage as she settled Danika on her hip. She moved to stand beside me, her stance protective. “What?” she gasped. “My daughter is perfect. There is nothing wrong with her.” Melissa always defended Danika fiercely, and I admired that about her.
“She doesn’t stop!” Dante shouted, gesturing wildly as if trying to emphasize his point. “From the moment she wakes up till she falls asleep, she’s go, go, go! There’s no quit in her. She’s getting into everything. She flits from one thing to another. I can’t catch my breath. I don’t need to go to the gym anymore. I’m worn out chasing her. Look at me!” he whined, waving his hands up and down his body. “I’ve lost weight and I can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal. I swear, if I eat one more chicken nugget I’m going to lose my mind! I want her tested. Now!”
Melissa blinked a few times before she calmly asked, “Does she have difficulty sustaining attention, is she easily distracted, or does she have a lack of organization?”
“No.”
“What about acting out without thinking, interrupting others, or challenges with self-control?”
“Well, no... but—”
Melissia ignored him and continued on, “Does she have difficulty staying still, lose things, or forget things?”
Dante let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly at a loss. “Honestly? No, she doesn’t really forget things—if anything, she reminds me when I forget. And staying still... well, she only does that when she’s asleep. But she’s not careless with her stuff.” His frustration softened, replaced by reluctant pride as he admitted, “She’s just full of life, I guess.”
Melissa smiled warmly, pressing a gentle kiss to Danika’s cheek before lowering her to the floor. Crouching down so she was eye-to-eye with her daughter, Melissa took Danika’s small hands in her own. “I think your daddy needs a hug, Dani,” she said softly, her voice filled with understanding and encouragement.
“Okay, Momma,” Danika replied sweetly. She walked over to where her father stood, wrapping her arms around his leg in a heartfelt hug, offering him the comfort and reassurance only a child could give.
Melissa turned her attention to Dante, her tone gentle but sincere. “This is what we wanted, Dante— what we worked so hard for. This is why you brought her to me in the beginning. It’s not easy being a single parent, Dante. That’s why you have me. If you need a break, just say so. There is no judgment here. Trust me. I’ve read all the parenting books. Counseled many single parents. I know how hard it can be raising a child alone.”
Without thinking, I reached out and gently drew Melissa into a comforting embrace. “And remember,” I said softly, my voice filled with reassurance, “you’re not alone in this. You have me, too. It wasn’t so long ago that Silas, Sinclair, and I were raising you together. The three of us faced our own challenges, and believe me, you tested our patience in every way imaginable. We truly understand how difficult it can be. So if you ever need help, or just someone to lean on, I’m here for you.”
Dante nodded absently, his mind clearly elsewhere as he tried to process the conversation. Suddenly, his expression shifted, suspicion flickering in his eyes before his gaze widened in shock as he focused intently on both me and Melissa and smiled. “Um... is there something either of you would like to tell me?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Melissa
As soon as Dante gave me a playful look, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, I couldn’t help but let out a groan and step away from Rowen. “It’s not like that,” I protested, my tone exasperated but tinged with embarrassment. “We’re just friends.”
Dante, undeterred, grinned mischievously. “Friend-friends, or friends with benefits?” he teased, his voice light and playful. “Because I’m good either way. You know, that’s how Danny and I ended up together. Friends make great partners.”
Rolling my eyes, I shot back, “No, you and Danny got together because neither of you could keep your hands off each other.” I dropped into a nearby chair with a hint of exasperation. “I have more restraint than that.”
Rowen, barely audible as he passed by, muttered under his breath, “Speak for yourself,” before he walked away, leaving me alone with Danika and a grinning Dante.
Determined not to discuss my own feelings, I straightened up and turned my attention to one of my closest friends. “Alright. Talk to me. What’s really going on with you?” I asked, inviting honesty and support between us.
Dante let out a groan and plunked into a chair, his sigh echoing the weight of his emotions. “I miss Danny,” he admitted, sadness evident in his voice.
I nodded in understanding. “Of course you do. You love him and you’re worried,” I replied, recognizing both the depth of Dante’s feelings and the anxiety that came with separation.
Dante’s gaze was serious as he continued, “It’s more than that, Mellie. Danika misses him too, and I think we’re both feeling his absence more than we did before.” I nodded again, recalling the last time Danny had been away from their lives. It had been particularly difficult for Danika, who had grown close to Danny only to have him leave soon after. Dante did his best to keep Danika occupied, but even I understood that the heart longed for what it missed most. “I know he’s helping the clubs out, doing what he can, but...”
“He’s forgetting he has other commitments too.” I voiced my concerns aloud, glancing at Dante for confirmation. He nodded in agreement, his expression weary.
“Yeah. I haven’t spoken to him in days, Mellie. I’m getting worried and I think it’s rubbing off on Danika,” Dante admitted, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He hesitated, then added, “To make matters worse, Mercy called me.”
At that, I froze, the gravity of his words settling between us. “What does he want?” My voice was low, cautious. I knew exactly who Mercy was—the vice president of the Soulless Sinners Motorcycle Club here in New York City. The same club Dante belonged to.
“He wants me to locate Arizona Stone,” Dante said quietly, his tone serious.
I looked down at my hands, memories flashing through my mind. The video I’d watched the other day still haunted me, and I knew exactly who Dante was talking about. I’d actually met Arizona Stone when we were all in Lincoln, Nebraska, at the Golden Skulls’ clubhouse—before everything went to hell. “Did he say why?” I asked, unable to hide the hesitation in my voice.
“No, only that I needed to find him fast,” Dante replied, his words weighted with urgency.
“I see,” I whispered, my gaze dropping as I tried to process it all. I wondered if I should tell him what I knew—that it wasArizona who had shot and left Montana to die in that chaos. The secret pressed heavily on my conscience, wondering if I told him the truth, would he stay or go like Travis and Sypher did?
