"Aunt Evie!" He screamed as I bent down to engulf him in a squeezing hug. I buried my face in his sweet smelling neck and fought the urge to cry. I had been avoiding both Kami and Devin, two people I loved more than anything for this bulls.h.i.t with Chase.

"You look so pretty," He said, giving me a cute kiss on my cheek.

"Thanks baby," I whispered. "And you look very, very handsome."

"Amazing isn't it," Chase sneered. "How my very handsome son looks nothing like his mother or his father but more resembles, Mrs. Gonzalez, our housekeeper."

My eyes shot to Chase. It wasn't any secret Devin wasn't his. Devin was dark. Both he and Kami were light. Devin had black hair, dark features and tanned skin that had nothing to do with sun exposure. He was taller and broader than any other four year old I had ever met. He looked every bit his father's son.

His father...c.o.x.

Kami glared at Chase. Thankfully Devin seemed oblivious, as always to Chase's digs.

"Kind of hard to have a child that looks like you," She hissed softly, "When your wife refuses to f.u.c.k you."

He shrugged. "As much fun as it was to f.u.c.k a dead fish, I've since found much better. Much, much better."

I closed my eyes. I had to get out of here.

Giving Devin another big hug, I stood. "Let's do lunch tomorrow. And some shopping," I suggested to Kami. "There's a new thrift store in SoHo that Snickers said has a boatload of mint condition Vinyl's." I tried to smile. "You know I have to hit that up."

"Who's Snicker's?" Devin asked.

"One of Papa Fox's friends from the club," Kami said. "All he eats are snicker's bars."

"What lovely names they all have," Chase muttered.

"Evie, lunch and shopping tomorrow sounds perfect but I want today, too. I was just about to drop Devin downstairs for a play date. I'll only be a minute and then we can go get pedicures, my treat, sound good?"

"Okay," I whispered, glancing at Chase, knowing he was going to be p.i.s.sed at me.

Kami glanced over at Chase then back at me and her eyes narrowed.

"One minute, don't leave," She said, grabbing Devin's hand.

The elevator doors closed behind them.

"Cancel with Kami," He demanded, "Go straight to the Waldorf."

"G.o.d, you're an a.s.shole," I hissed.

I found myself pressed up against the elevator, Chase's erection grinding against me. I sucked in a breath.

"You want me," He said coldly.

G.o.d, I did. I wanted him badly. Right here, right now.

"Go Eva. I'll be there shortly."

Thirty minutes later, I was at the Waldorf begging Chase to f.u.c.k me.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:.

Deuce watched Eva tear out of Kami's building looking like a brunette version of Kami. The hair, the clothes, the makeup and she'd dropped a good twenty pounds. What had happened in the three months since he'd seen her last?

He had come to Manhattan for two reasons. One, he'd had lead on Eva's. .h.i.t, two he wanted to see Eva, three he wanted to see Eva and four, he had to f.u.c.king see Eva or he was going to go insane. So more than two reasons.

Three days ago, accompanied by Mick and c.o.x, he pulled out of midday Manhattan traffic into the Silver Demon's MC parking lot. He had just removed his helmet when he saw some pretty boy a.s.shole step out of the front doors of the club accompanied by Eva and Preacher.

He'd signaled his boys to remain where they were as he watched the three of them interact. Preacher stuck his hand out and shook the pretty boy's hand then retreated back into the club.

The pretty boy focused on Eva and his chest went tight. He'd seen that look before; it's the look a man gets when he's looking at something he wants inside of.

Gripping Eva's chin, the pretty boy backed her up against the club doors.

c.o.x's hand came down on his shoulder. "Breathe Prez. She's not exactly fightin' him off."

No, she wasn't. She had her arms wrapped around his neck, gripping him, while the f.u.c.ker gnawed on her face and groped her backside like he was digging for change. None of this made sense to him. She'd run away from him to help Frankie but how she was going to accomplish that by f.u.c.king some uptown douchebag was beyond him.

Something was up. Something he was pretty sure he wasn't going to like.

"Mick," He hissed. "Find out who the f.u.c.k that is."

His VP's eyes met his. Mick thought his relationship with Eva was f.u.c.ked up and he made no bones about telling him.

They stared at one another. Mick gave first. "On it Prez," He said quietly.

The pretty boy strolled arrogantly down the walk and slid inside a sleek silver Aston Martin db9. When he pulled out into traffic, Mick's Harley pulled out behind him and they both disappeared into the mess of New York City traffic.

Eva sat down on the front steps, slumped forward and buried her face in her hands.

f.u.c.k him. Something was way off.

"Somethin' goin' down here Prez," c.o.x muttered. "Your girls not lookin' too good."

"I get that," He growled. "And she's not my girl. Not sure she ever f.u.c.kin' was."

"Load of f.u.c.kin' c.r.a.p," c.o.x said. "Seen the way you two look at each other. Like no one else in the world exists."

He cut his eyes at his RC. "You a f.u.c.kin' poet?"

c.o.x shrugged. "If that's what it takes to get laid, then I'm a f.u.c.kin' poet. Other times I'm a f.u.c.kin' accountant. Or a plumber. Sometime's a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

c.o.x pretending to be an accountant with all his piercings and tattoos was just about the funniest thing he had ever heard.

"Come on Prez. Let's go to Queens." c.o.x slapped him on the back. "We came here for a reason. And that f.u.c.kin' reason is to keep that woman of yours breathin'."

They'd gone to Queens. They had tortured and killed two independent grave diggers to get the information they'd needed. Then they'd crossed the Hudson and took out the hit. The a.s.shole had a file on Eva as thick as a phonebook, full of photos, addresses and schedules. Despite not needing to bury her unless Frankie kicked it, the digger was thorough and ready at the drop of a hat to get his job done.

The digger had been paid to kill her, he didn't know Eva from a hole in the wall, but Deuce knew her and he loved her. Because of this love, instead of giving the a.s.shole a merciful death, he prolonged the pain and let him bleed for a good long time before finally stopping his heart. It hadn't made him feel any better about the pretty boy with his tongue shoved down Eva's throat but it relieved some pent up aggression.

Until he found out who the pretty boy was. Then all that aggression came back tenfold.

So he'd followed her. He watched her run out of Kami's building and hail a cab. He followed her to the Waldorf Astoria, watched her wave to the doormen like she f.u.c.king knew them and disappear inside. Not even ten minutes later he watched Chase pull up in his db9, toss his keys to the valet and stride through the doors.

He wanted to kill something. No, he wanted to kill Chase.

Instead, he waited. He waited all day and all night and neither of them came out.

At dawn, when the sun was cresting, Eva came walking through the front doors looking half asleep, pale and disheveled. A doorman moved quickly, ready to hail her a cab but he didn't give her the option. His Harley roared to life, he gunned it straight across four lanes of traffic and came to a rubber burning, tire squealing stop directly in front of her.

Her mouth fell open.

"Get the f.u.c.k on," He growled. "I won't tell you twice."

Her mouth worked soundlessly for several moments and just as he was getting really f.u.c.king impatient and angry, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

f.u.c.k.

Flipping off the gaping doormen he held her for a long time just breathing her in, knowing she'd just f.u.c.ked another guy, smelling him and the s.e.x they'd had on her and feeling like crushing skulls with his bare hands because of it. But he kept it reeled in because she was in his arms, she was seeking comfort from him, she needed him, so whatever the f.u.c.k she'd been doing while they'd been apart didn't f.u.c.king matter unless she started doing it again. And since he was going to put Chase to ground the minute he got a chance he figured there was no chance of that happening anyway.

"Get on Eva," He said. "I'm taking you home and then I'm taking you home with me."

She surprised the f.u.c.k out of him. She got on without a word, without an ounce of fight and no att.i.tude tossed his way. This scared him more than the tears, more than her selling her p.u.s.s.y to save Crazy Frankie. If his girl was broken, someone sure as f.u.c.k was going to die for that.

Preacher met them in the hallway of the club, c.o.x and Mick by his side. He took one look at his puffy, red eyed, blotchy faced daughter and lost it.

"What the f.u.c.k?" Preacher shouted. "What happened?"

When her old man tried to touch her she shrank into him and buried her face into his armpit, not his first choice of a hiding place seeing as he'd just spent twenty four hours in the same clothing but she didn't seem to care, so he didn't move her, just held her tight.

Preacher looked bewildered. The man really didn't have a clue something was wrong with his daughter.

"What's goin' on," Preacher demanded.

"I don't know," He said. "Where's her f.u.c.kin' room?"

"You think I'm gonna let you take my daughter up to her f.u.c.kin' room? I haven't f.u.c.kin' forgotten what you did when she was just a kid."

"Daddy!" Eva whirled around, glaring. "I've been f.u.c.king Deuce since I was eighteen! I wanted to f.u.c.k him when I was sixteen! Maybe I even wanted him when I was twelve too! Who knows! What I do know is I have been in love with him since I was five! So get over it! And don't you dare shoot him or I'll shoot you!"

c.o.x slapped his hand over his mouth and turned away.

Mick rolled his eyes.

Preacher's jaw dropped.

Oh...s.h.i.t. At least he knew her fire was still burning bright, but still... oh, s.h.i.t. He didn't have a good track record dealing with his b.i.t.c.h's fathers. For some reason they never liked him and the one in front of him had already shot him twice.

"Don't f.u.c.kin' shoot me again," He growled. "I didn't do s.h.i.t to her when she was twelve. That s.h.i.t when she was sixteen, that wasn't my fault. I was s.h.i.tfaced and she was jerkin' herself off on my f.u.c.kin' belt buckle and her t.i.ts were bouncin' in my face, and what the f.u.c.k, I'm only f.u.c.king human. I blame her t.i.ts for the whole f.u.c.kin' thing. But every time I f.u.c.ked her she was f.u.c.kin' legal. So no f.u.c.kin' shootin'. This time I'll shoot back."

"Tact Prez," c.o.x muttered. "You f.u.c.kin' need some."

Both Eva and her old man were gaping at him.

"Did you seriously just say all of that to my daddy?"

He looked down at her. "What? You're the f.u.c.kin' dumba.s.s who brought it up. It's the f.u.c.kin' truth anyway."

"The f.u.c.kin' truth," Preacher muttered. "Is I already knew she was a willin' partic.i.p.ant you f.u.c.kin' idiot. Doesn't change the fact that you took advantage of a sixteen year old girl."

"Daddy," Eva hissed. "How old was my mother when you knocked her up?"

Preacher's eyes shot to his daughter. "Deuce is forty eight Eva! I'm fifty five! Don't that seem a little f.u.c.ked up to you?"

"How old, daddy?" She demanded.

"Six f.u.c.kin' teen," He said darkly, glaring at her.

d.a.m.n. Looks like his old man and Preacher had some s.h.i.t in common. At least he didn't belong to that f.u.c.king club. That was something. Sorta.

"Yeah," She shot back. "And how old were you?"

"Eva!"

"Daddy!"

"I was twenty four," He snarled.

She folded her arms across her chest and c.o.c.ked her hip out. "Huh," She said. "Interesting."

"Yeah," He shot back. "f.u.c.kin' interesting. Your old man was a f.u.c.kin' idiot who fell in love with a junkie runaway who took off runnin' scared after she gave birth to you! Real f.u.c.kin' interesting! Didn't get to spend nearly enough time lovin' her, treatin' her to all the s.h.i.t her parents never gave her and all the women since her have been f.u.c.kin' bed warmers, nothin' more! Excuse the f.u.c.k outta me for not wantin' that kinda s.h.i.t for my baby!"

Preacher's eyes had gone glossy halfway through his revelation and now tears were flowing freely down his cheeks. Everyone stared. Preacher didn't cry, Preacher killed in cold blood. But there it was.

"Didn't matter cuz I f.u.c.ked you up anyway, baby girl," Preacher rasped. "Didn't see how bad Frankie was 'til it was too late. Trapped you in that s.h.i.t without even knowin' it. Shoulda got him help a long time ago. Shoulda gotten you away from him. Shoulda done f.u.c.kin' somethin'."

"Doesn't matter," She whispered. "He's not getting out anytime soon and he's getting the help he needs."

This made Mick stomp off down the hallway. His boys wanted Frankie dead. He wanted Frankie dead but Eva and Preacher loved Frankie. He got that. You can't turn feelings on and off like a f.u.c.king light. He knew. He had tried. He'd tried to love his wife and he'd tried to stop loving Eva. Neither had worked.

That said, Frankie still needed to go to ground.