Page 40 of Devil’s Torture

She’s not wrong. I picked my daughter up from school today instead of the sitter. It was the highlight of my fucking life. I won’t squander the trust Bexley is giving me.

I want to be there for both my girls. I need it.

If picking up my daughter helps Bexley, then I’m going to be there. Early. With snacks and a drink.

When Dawn jumped into the truck with a big smile on her face, she turned back to the teacher holding the door open and told her, “This is my dad.”

My fucking chest puffed up with pride, and I didn’t even try to hide it. The teacher looked more than a little confused but didn’t press; probably because they wanted to get the line moving and head home.

“How was school?” It felt normal asking her such a mundane question and, damn it, my eyes stung a little at the normalcy of it all.

“It was good. We went to the media center today and I checked out a new book,” she started and then the chatting continued. I heard about all the drama in the grade and about how my daughter hates math.

It was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard right along with my woman moaning my name.

“Dawn’s hanging out with the ladies at the compound,” I let Bex know. My voice goes soft and vulnerable, “I was hoping to take you on a date.”

I used to take Bex wherever she wanted to go. Our dates were never elaborate or expensive, but they were ours. It was our time to just be with each other, to enjoy being just us.

I’m hoping we can do the same tonight and reconnect.

Having her body is one thing, but I want my woman’s heart back. I understand she doesn’t trust me with it yet.

But she will.

I’ll make sure of it.

Bexley, stunned, stares at me for a long moment. I hate how unsure I sound when I add on, “A proper one, the party at the clubhouse didn’t count.” I rub a hand along the stubble on my jaw. “If you’re willing.”

“I think I’d like that,” her words are soft, like she’s handing me something fragile.

When I pull out her helmet, the one I’ve been carrying around with me in my saddlebags for ten years, her eyes get glassy with unshed tears. We don’t speak as I help her with the strap and then climb on the back of my bike. I offer her my hand, and she doesn’t hesitate to place hers in it.

It feels like a victory. Maybe it’s only a small one, but I’ll take it.

Ever since I told Bexley what happened and why I was forced to leave town, even if it was the club’s decision, she’s been more willing to give me room to win her back. She didn’t have to. She could have held onto her anger and her hurt.

She would have been well within her rights.

But my woman has always been all heart.

I take her to a hole in the wall that was there ten years ago and has deep roots. They moved after Katrina and the customers followed. The fact that it’s still here is a testament to the city which takes care of its own.

I’m more than a little nervous when we’re finally sitting across from each other. I take in the soft smile on my woman’s face as she looks around with a hint of awe in her eyes. “This place hasn’t changed much in ten years,” she murmurs.

“You haven’t been here?” I shouldn’t ask. I do anyway.

“No,” her voice goes thin, “it didn’t feel right without you.”

“I missed it.” I tell her, my gaze moves across the walls before I lock eyes with her. “I missed you more.”

Once we place our order, something inside of her cracks, her curiosity, or her resolve—I’m not sure which.

She motions between us, exasperation in her voice, “What is this? What are we doing? I need to know, not only for myself but for Dawn.”

I lean across the table and hope she can see how much I mean my words. “I want it all. I want to be a dad to my daughter. I want to be the man you can rely on again. The one who is there for you when things are good and helps to carry it when things are bad. I was gone a long fucking time, Bex.”

With a shake of my head, I lean back in the chair and fight the demon shaped like regret that pulls at me whenever I think about how much time we’ve lost. The breath that comes out of me is sharp and harsh.