Page 117 of Talk Wicked to Me

“I got it.” His tone was as final as her words were cutting. “I’m going on my ride.” He stalked over to his bike, unable to hear past the blood thundering in his ears or think with the hurt stacking up inside him.

As he drove away, even the roar of the engine couldn’t dull the pain.

Chapter Thirty-Three

EMERSON TRIED TO concentrate on what Ginger was saying, but her excitement over starting a business was obliterated by the heartache consuming her. She probably should have rescheduled with Ginger like she had with Elliott for the bake-off, but she hadn’t wanted to cancel at the last minute after Ginger had been so good to her. Now she was regretting that decision. It had been two hours since Baz had stormed off, and she still felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest. She stared absently at the list Ginger was going over, the words blurring together, her conversation with Marco and her argument with Baz blaring on repeat in her mind.

“Honey?” Ginger touched her arm.

“I’m sorry. I missed what you were saying.”

“I was asking if you’d rather do this another time. You seem sidetracked.”

She sat back, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Do you want to talk about whatever is on your mind?”

They were sitting on the couch in Ginger’s living room. She looked at Brennan, lying on a blanket beneath an activity center. One of the many toys Ginger and Conroy had for their grandbabies. A pang of longing moved through her. She could really use her mother right about now. Tears threatened, and when she glanced at Ginger, her heartache broke free. “Brennan’s father”—Baz’s seething voice ran through her mind—“his birth father, showed up this morning.” She told Ginger what had gone down.

“Oh, goodness. Honey, are you okay?”

She shrugged, her eyes tearing up. “I’ve spent the last few hours wishing I could have a do-over. One minute I’m pissed at Marco for showing up, and the next I’m thankful, because now Brennan won’t feel abandoned by his birth father. And then I’m angry at Baz for getting so mad, because he should want what’s best for Brennan, too. Then the stupid girl in me is so freaking thankful that he cares about us enough to protect us. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, and I’m sure I handled it all wrong, and it freaking hurts so bad. I keep seeing the hurt and anger in Baz’s eyes, and I hate that I did that to him.” She swiped at her eyes. “And I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. This isn’t a fair position to put you in. It’s not like you can give me an objective opinion.”

“You’d be surprised at how much easier it gets to be objective as your children get older and get into trouble or break the heart of some unsuspecting person. Unfortunately, mothers are not immune to the things our children do even if we’d like to turn a blind eye to it. It sounds like Baz got a little hot under the collar, and I’m sure you’re not used to seeing that.”

“A little? He didn’t even give Marco a chance to talk. I thought Baz was going to hit him.”

“If Marco had pushed the right buttons, he might have. He’s a Wicked, honey. They’re like dominant male lions protecting their pride. They patrol, mark, and guard their territory, and that is in their blood, and has been for generations.”

She thought about how Baz was always looking out for them and how he’d marked her that morning.

“I’m not excusing his behavior,” Ginger said. “But I’m not altogether against it, either. And in my opinion, you’re not a stupid girl for liking how it feels to have Baz protect you and Brennan. Especially after what you’ve been through. Baz is exactly like his father. Ninety-nine percent of the time they have an innate ability to remain calm in any situation. But that one percent?” She blew out a breath.

“What do you mean?”

“I won’t sugarcoat this, because you should know what the man you’re with is capable of. The first time I saw Conroy lose his shit was a thousand times worse than what you described, and I definitely had second thoughts about being with a man who was capable of what I saw him do.”

“That sounds bad. What happened?”

“He saved a young girl who had gotten herself into a very bad situation that she may not have made it out of.”

“What did he do?”

Ginger’s brows knitted. “Let’s just say, by the time Conroy was done with the pitiful excuse of a man who had hurt her, the piece of trash was no longer capable of hurting anyone ever again.”

“Holy cow.”

“It was shocking to me, too, and Con didn’t come out the other side emotionally unscathed. They never do. They carry the weight of every wrong they do to help others. But if he’d let that man walk away, the guy would have continued hurting other girls. And if he’d simply called the cops, he might have gotten off with a slap on the wrist. Conroy stopped the cycle in the only way he could be sure would do it in the moment, and then he called the police. Right or wrong, our family, and the rest of the Dark Knights families, will not stand for abuse of any kind. Which is why you can rest assured that Baz would never raise a hand to you or Brennan.”

“I know he would never hurt us like that.” She’d spent her life avoiding unsafe situations, and before having Brennan, or meeting Baz and Ginger and the rest of their family, she would never have thought she’d condone violence. But after listening to Ginger, she realized she’d been lying to herself. If someone like Conroy or Baz could have protected her parents, she would have cheered them on and handed them whatever weapon they needed.

“I can’t take away the hurt or confusion you’re feeling over this,” Ginger said gently. “But I can tell you that as Brennan’s mother, you know what’s best for your son. Don’t let anyone, including my son, make you feel otherwise. That said, the hurt you saw in Baz’s eyes means he cares. Deeply. My boys don’t give their hearts away easily, and when they find the one, they’ll stop at nothing to protect them. Unfortunately, that leaves them in a vulnerable position, and that is not something any of them handles well.”

Emerson knew how terrifying it was to feel vulnerable. She’d lived in a constant state of vulnerability for more than a decade, and it was Baz who had made her feel safe and showed her the way out. He’d shown her how to trust, how to love, and how to live again. Her throat constricted. And how did I return those efforts? By doing exactly what Ashley and that girl in college did. She hadn’t trusted he’d support her.

“I need to find Baz. Is there any way to reach them when they’re on the road?”

“They don’t usually—”