Ruin and Rise(4)
“You were supposed to be far away from this life. You were supposed to be happy.”
“I am happy. I’m happy with Shakes. Please, don’t ruin this for me.”
They were silent for several minutes. “I won’t hurt Shakes,” he said and clenched his teeth, like it had been really hard to say. “Do you need any help?”
“No. I’m fine. It’s early days.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I shouldn’t have to come and warn my father that I’m pregnant. Other daughters don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have to ask you not to hurt the man I love just because I’m pregnant.”
“We’re not like other people, Dani.”
“No, we’re not. I want a normal life. Shakes has given up so much for me, and now I’m trying to make up for everything he’s lost. The Soldiers are gone, and it’s all because of you.”
“No, him getting booted out is because he betrayed his club. He should have accepted my decision. That has nothing to do with me. He shouldn’t have taken you away from me, shouldn’t have put his family in danger.”
“Shakes did what he had to do in order to survive. You wouldn’t listen to him, and even if I’d come to you, you’d have found a way to get rid of Shakes. That is the kind of man you are. I had accepted that. I’m not going to accept it anymore. I’m pregnant, Shakes is the father, deal with it.”
Daniella made her way toward the door. She took a deep breath and glanced back. “If anything happens to Shakes, anything at all, I will make sure you never find me again. You will not have anything to do with me or my child.”
He spoke her name again, and she shook her head.
“You can issue threats all you want to, Dad. I can do the same.”
Zeke’s knew that if he wanted a good relationship with Dani, with his future grandchild, he needed to try and make a step in the right direction with Shakes. He sat at the front entrance of the Soldiers clubhouse, the gates stopping him from entering. The two club members, one of them a prospect, talked on a cell and stared at him. He knew they’d let him in. They’d be fucking stupid not to.
The patched-in member he knew was called Nerd stepped away from the gate and bent down to stare at Zeke.
“Demon know you coming by?” The big motherfucker said, a toothpick hanging out of his mouth.
“Would it matter if he did? Just let me the fuck in,” Zeke ground out, not hiding his anger or annoyance.
Nerd slowly stood, gestured for the prospect, and then the gates slowly opened.
Zeke didn’t wait around. He drove his car up the driveway, saw the members coming out of the front doors, and knew they were on alert because he was here. But he’d come here alone, needed to talk to Demon, and if they even thought of fucking with him, they’d wish they had never intervened. He’d fucking make sure.
He climbed out of his car, rolled his head around on his neck, and cracked his knuckles. He was packing a big fucking Glock at the small of his back, but then he didn’t go anywhere without having at least one gun on him and a couple in his car.
He made his way toward the clubhouse, moved past the members hanging outside, their nasty fucking glares trained right at him, but he just made sure to glare right back at them. They had balls of steel right now because he was alone, and he was on their turf, but their dicks would be sucked up inside of their groins if this MC weren’t protecting them.
He recognized a few of the Patches: Weasel, Tryck, and Vengeance. There were a couple of prospects hanging with them, joints between their lips, their black leather cuts deeming them less worthy than the members.
When he moved into the clubhouse, the scene was something he was familiar with. Club whores were all around, half naked, their tits and ass hanging out. They were fucking, sucking cock, getting their asses smacked, and stripping for the brothers. But he didn’t see any of the members that had old ladies, and Zeke knew enough about the club to know they didn’t fuck around once they settled down. But Zeke would never settle down, would never give up the pain and pussy in abundance at his clubs. He liked getting down and dirty, liked inflicting pain and ultimately pleasure. It was who he was, and fuck anyone that thought he should be different.
The club seemed to stand still when Zeke stared at them, as if their entire world stopped, waiting for the anvil to hit the ground, causing the fucking apocalypse.
He saw Demon inside the meeting room, on his cell, his face showing nothing. And there was Striker, a big motherfucker that was all tatted up, pierced, and looked ready to bulldoze right through Zeke.
“Move it, boy,” Zeke said in a low, deadly voice, not about to fuck around.