“For us?” Robbie said, his dark eyes narrowing to hate-filled slits at the bartender. “Are you one of those shifters, too?” He said the word like a curse, which was ridiculous because he’d been married to a shifter once and his son was also a shifter.
Beck wanted to throat-punch the judgmental asshole.
Layla plastered on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I am not a shifter.”
“Good for you,” Robbie slurred.
“But he is,” Layla said, pointing to a tatted-up, dark-headed behemoth behind the bar. Kong narrowed his eyes at Robbie. Layla smoothed her apron over the swell of her belly, “And my baby will be, too.” Her smile dipped to nothing. “Start shit in here, and I’ll throw you out so fast you’ll think I’m a fucking wizard.” She turned to her mate and called out, “A long island for our mighty publicist and nothing more for this dick. He’s cut off.”
“Yeeep,” Kong said as he spun a glass in his palm like a bartending pro. His angry eyes flashed an inhuman green at Robbie before Kong went back to work.
Mason broke a rack of balls over on the pool table where he was hanging out with Haydan and Kellen of the Ashe Crew, who’d just walked in. The sound of balls scattering was deafening in the bar. It wasn’t yet rush hour, and only a few of the tables were full. Even with his eyes flashing a furious, inhuman color, Mason looked sexy as hell lining up his next shot.
“Hellooo,” Robbie said, snapping in front of her face.
With a slow, infuriated blink, she gave McFartFace her attention again.
“What I have to say will make you angry.”
“Just say it,” she muttered.
“Shelly and I are getting married.”
Not shocking. They’d been together through half of Beck and Robbie’s marriage. “Congratulations,” she said in a dead voice.
“Because she’s pregnant.”
How romantic. “Double congratulations.”
“With twins.”
Beck prayed for patience, counted to three, then murmured, “Robbie, that’s fine. I’m not angry. I’m glad for you that you’re sticking with Shelly. I mean, you two have been together for a long time.” She had tried not to sound bitter, but a little eked through. “And it’ll be good for Ryder to have some half-siblings.” She guessed. But on second thought, maybe this would hurt him if he saw his father being a good parent to his other kids. Huh. Now her chest was filling with dread. She hadn’t been able to mold Robbie into good father material, but maybe Shelly had powers Beck didn’t possess.
“The thing is…my other babies will be human.”
Uh oh. Beck dragged her hands under the table and clenched them in her lap until her nails dug into her palms. “So?”
“So Shelly doesn’t like that Ryder Changes into that hairy little bird whenever he wants. She don’t like taking care of him.”
“Well, she doesn’t take care of him, so crisis averted.”
“Yeah, but having him a month a year is going to be hard if she don’t want him in our house.”
“Robbie, you’re his father—”
“And as his father I should have a say in his treatment.”
“Treatment?”
Robbie pulled a stack of pamphlets from his pocket and slammed them on the table. The title of the first one shocked her into stillness. Experimental Gene Treatment.
Heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks, then landed in her ears as she pulled the pamphlet open. The first paragraph alone made her sick to her stomach.
“They are trying to fix shifters.”
“Fix. Shifters.” Her voice shook like a leaf in a hurricane.
“Yeah, Beck, fix shifters because I’ll be good goddamned if I watch you become all loud and proud, registering and shit, and shaming my name. My kid ain’t meant to have a fucking owl in him.” Robbie’s voice filled with bone-chilling vitriol. “You tricked me. You never admitted you were a shifter. Not when we were dating, not when you got pregnant, not when we got married. I had a right to know what I was getting myself into.”
“I didn’t tell you because you’re anti-shifter, Robbie!”
“Doesn’t matter your reasons, Beck. I had to find out my kid was a freak when he turned into a fucking fuzzy baby owl right after his first birthday. That’s messed up.”
“Ryder’s not a freak.” She clenched her hands tighter until warmth trickled down her palms from where her nails dug in. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to Change and claw his eyes out for what he was suggesting. “Six months, Robbie. This pamphlet says the experiments will last half a damned year. You would torture the animal from our son, then? Is that what this is? You’d rather him be ‘normal’ than healthy? He is normal! I’m normal,” she said, pressing her bleeding palms against her chest.
“No, you aren’t, Beck. Your eyes are glowing like yellow highlighters right now. What are you going to do? Huh? You gonna homeschool him forever, keep him from making friends, coddle him because that’s what you’re doing. He ain’t living! Every time he gets pissed, he Changes.”
“Because you hurt him, Robbie! You hurt his feelings when you tell him he’s not normal, or that he needs to change a fundamental part of who he is to earn your love. I’m not having this conversation anymore. My answer is a definite, non-negotiable no. Ryder is fine the way he is. He’s perfect.” Angry tears stung her eyes at how much she hated Robbie right now. She shook her head as she stared at this terrible person she’d given her heart to once. “Why can’t you see he’s perfect?”
“Because he ain’t,” Robbie gritted out. “And if you aren’t willing to take him to the appointments on the days you have him, I’ll file for primary custody and get it done myself.”
“No judge is going to give you primary custody, you idiot. You barely see your son! You haven’t paid child support! You are literally the worst father I’ve ever met.”
“Yeah.” Robbie gave her a blood-chilling smile. “But I’m human, and I have more rights than you do. A judge will see what I’m trying to do for him and cut you out of Ryder’s life because he deserves better than this. He deserves better than you.”
Bile rose in her throat at the idea that this monster could actually take Ryder away. Her son’s life would be so empty, so lacking with Robbie constantly belittling him. She loved Ryder more than air. He was vital to her. Her entire existence was devoted to giving him a good life. She breathed for his little smile. “I’m leaving.”
She stood, but Robbie grabbed her hand and growled out, “Not until you say yes and sign the consent forms.”
Beck tried to break away from his grip, but Robbie tightened it, his eyes going cold as a snake’s.
When he wrenched her closer, she gasped out, “You’re hurting me.”
The crash of the pool stick against the metal edge of the pool table was deafening, and in an instant, the jagged splintered end was shoved against Robbie’s jugular.
“Take your fuckin’ hand off her,” Mason gritted out in a low, snarling voice that could rival a monster’s.
Robbie let her go slowly, then lifted his hands in surrender. Behind Mason, Haydan, Kellen, and Kong stood like demon-eyed titans, ready to rip Robbie in half.
“Here’s how this will go,” Mason said low as he eased the stick away from Robbie’s throat. “There will be no more talk of torturing Beck’s kid and no more laying your hands on her.”
“And who are you?” Robbie asked through a furious grimace.
“I’m Mason. I’m Beck’s mate.” He gave a venomous smile under those glowing blue eyes. “Now, I’ve seen a lot of daddies like you.”
“Like me,” Robbie scoffed.
“Yeah. Fuck-up dickheads who screw up a kid’s life because it suits your own to do it. And the story is always the same. You slither back into your kid’s life when they’re grown and don’t need you anymore. You come with your apologies ready because your guilt will eat at you until you can’t sleep. Can’t eat. You’ll raise your other two babies and eventually you will grow up enough to realize you did your other kid wrong. And you know what will happen then?”
Robbie crossed his arms defensively, but now he wouldn’t meet Mason’s glare.
The table creaked under Masons weight as he locked his arms on it and leaned forward. “He’ll be the one telling you that you’re worthless. And his hatred will be all your fault. You’ll die knowing you failed that kid, when all he wanted was for you to care about him. Don’t you bring this gene therapy shit up again. You won’t kill Ryder’s owl. He’s a badass bird of prey. You’ll just make him angry, and someday, he’s going to be a fucking warrior, fed on your endless faults.”
Mason arched his gaze to Beck, apparently waiting for her to chime in, but she was a little dumbfounded right about now. Before, it had always been her alone sticking up for Ryder, but Mason had just reminded her how awesome it was to be a shifter. Ryder was going to be a badass. He was a bird of prey, a raptor, a flight shifter. That was fucking awesome! She knew because she was one and, hell yeah, she was tough.