“Then, baby, I am sorry,” he emphasized the words, his expression pierced with sincerity.
“What happened?” I asked hoarsely.
Axel and Sal exchanged a look as though unsure what to share.
“He was killed, Soph,” Sal’s voice returned as Maddox squealed, pulling his lip.
My child’s squeal of delight was such an odd contrast to the solemnity in the room.
“Killed how?” I pressed, pulling away from Axel and crossing my arms protectively around myself.
“Murdered,” Sal admitted quietly.
I nodded numbly, tears spilling over.
“Let me take you home. I’ll tell you what I know with you wrapped up in our bed,” Axel coaxed quietly.
“I’ll follow you,” Ry was suddenly in the doorway, his expression grim. “I’ll watch this guy,” his chin lifted to Mad.
“Me too,” Jill added, stepping in behind Ry.
Clearly, news had spread.
“But this is your night,” I protested, wiping my face with the back of my hand.
“This night’s about what it means to have a family,” Ry returned. “You’re family,” he shrugged before his eyes turned to his brother. “Take her home, man. Take my bike. I’ll put Mad in your truck and be right behind you.”
Axel nodded. “Let’s go, baby,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me into the chilly night beyond.
As soon as we arrived home, Axel led me through the dark house to our room. He started a shower, letting the warm water steam up the space.
He undressed me without a word, his large hands finding every button, every clasp without any help from me.
He led us under the spray and held me close as the water rushed over us.
His large hands found their way into my hair as he washed it, his fingers rubbing through my scalp.
He said all he could without words. His body enshrouded mine, anchoring me while I fought against an emotional sea.
We stood under the spray until the water turned cold. Then he guided me out, drying me carefully. He led me into our dark bedroom, drawing the covers back and guiding me underneath.
I only lost him for a moment while he turned out the bathroom light and slid in to meet me.
Still we didn’t speak.
I listened to the sounds of our home, of Ryker and Jill murmuring to each other quietly in the living room.
I tried to grasp the reality that my father was gone.
“He was so awful and I’m so sad,” I admitted brokenly, finally after what must have been hours of silence.
“I know, baby,” he replied, holding me closer still.
“What happened?” I managed to ask.
The silence stretched for many long moments. “We don’t know everything yet. I can only guess that someone didn’t want the police to find him first,” he surmised grimly. “Or for our club to be able to ask him questions,” he added. “There were a lot of loose ends we wanted him to tie up including who was feeding him inside information.”
“Is my mother okay? Does she know?” I demanded.
