Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

" Y ou're the woman from Johnstown," Steel accused. "The one who saved Jasmine and Sophia's lives."

She smiled and held out her hand to him like she didn't have a bound captive at her feet. "Ivy Benson."

As Steel took the offered hand, Angel leaned over to whisper in Cage's ear, "I like her."

Cage snorted. "Of course, you would. It's like looking in a mirror for you."

Angel rolled her eyes.

"Where's Scar?" Bulldog demanded. "I haven't seen him in over a week."

"Busy," Ivy said shortly. "There are still some people on our hit list and one recently came up for air. Scar went after him."

Bulldog looked like he wanted to ask more, but Steel put a hand on his chest to stop him. "Why are you here, Ivy? Who's this?"

"Scar didn't say," she said with a wink. Angel had to fight back a laugh. Of course, Scar didn't say. The man didn't talk . "He sent me here to help you."

"Why?" Steel demanded. "We don't need additional help." Steel indicated towards the top of the stairs without looking at them. "As you can see, I have plenty of nosy help. So why would Scar send you here?"

The playfulness left her face as Ivy said darkly, "That's my business."

"Not if you plan on staying in my town," Steel argued.

Ivy rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm going after the Pythons and Scar thought we should work together."

"Meaning we're your backup, not the other way around."

She glared at him. "If you want to get technical. Scar thinks he's the only one who can get away with that lone wolf shit." Her hand went to her side as if on impulse.

Bear pushed his way through the crowd and down the stairs. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," Ivy argued.

"Actually, you're not," Bear told her. "You're bleeding down the outside of your pants." He took her arm and dragged her over to the couch. "Someone grab my medical bag!"

Will, another prospect, ran to grab it.

Ghost walked down the stairs to take possession of the captive. He wasn't wearing a cut, but the Pythons who attacked Angel and Bree hadn't been either. Angel's eyes narrowed on the man. Who was he?

"She's been shot," Bear told Steel over his shoulder. "Just a deep graze but she pulled her stitching." To Ivy, he asked, "Who the fuck stitched you up? Edward Scissorhands?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I did it myself," she snapped.

Bear shook his head. "Don't quit your day job."

Bulldog walked up to stand behind Bear. "How do you know Scar?"

Ivy gave Bulldog a wide, sassy smile. "Why? Jealous he didn't tell you about me? Upset your bestie's been keeping secrets from you?"

Angel couldn't see Bulldog's face but could imagine his annoyed expression.

Will came running in with Bear's medical bag. While Ivy was distracted with Bear taking out her old stitches, Ghost and Lucky carefully got the hatch to the cellar open and dragged the captive down the stairs. Will then moved to close the cellar door and to allow them back up when they were ready.

Keys walked down the stairs with a tablet. He handed it to Steel.

Steel read what was on the tablet before he spoke. "Ivy Benson, former SWAT officer with the Atlanta PD. Thirty-one-years old. Parents are Josephine and Zane Benson, both deceased. You were a decorated officer until two years ago when you started receiving disciplinary actions. You were put on administrative leave but never returned. Why?"

Ivy scowled at Steel over Bear's head. "Surprised your magic tablet doesn't tell you that."

Keys leaned over and hit a button.

"Your sister died." It was subtle but Angel caught Ivy's flinch at the words. Steel probably did too, but he still continued. "She OD'ed on heroin." His voice softened slightly as he added, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"You can shove your condolences where the sun don't shine," Ivy snapped. "Saying sorry isn't going to bring my sister back."

If Steel was offended by her words, he didn't show it. He kept reading. "Following your sister's death was when you started to have problems at work. After you were forced on leave, you basically disappeared. There's not much over the past eight months, but enough to form a pattern. You're heading north."

"Your magic tablet does know it all then."

"But not why you're here, why you're after the Pythons, or how you know Scar." Steel handed the tablet back to Keys. "Or who that man is."

Ivy looked down at her side where Bear was spraying something onto her wound. "Am I going to live, doc?"

"Nurse," Bear corrected. "My ol' lady's the doctor."

"You're a nurse?" she asked skeptically.

He flashed her a wide smile. "Nurse Bear at your service."

Ivy shook her head like she was trying to shake around something she didn't understand. She looked up at Steel. "I tracked the drugs that killed my sister. The Pythons launder the 3Ts' money."

"Who are the 3Ts?" Steel asked. Keys handed him the tablet back. Steel let out a long sigh and started reading again. "According to the Atlanta police and corroborated by the DEA, the 3Ts is a gang that started in Miami and has worked its way north to Atlanta. Their gang symbol is literally three Ts, which stands for ‘terror', ‘torment', and ‘turmoil'." Steel looked up and said offhandedly, "Not exactly scholars that we're working with."

"No, but they know how to make some serious poison," Ivy sneered. "They recently added prostitution to their resume and not all of their girls are willing workers. That's how I met Scar."

Angel and Cage exchanged a look. Both of them doubted that Scar had been a pro's john.

"Damnit," Bulldog growled. "One of the cities on his list was Miami. I remember that one."

Bear was putting a white bandage over Ivy's stitches as she added, "We met attacking the same brothel. The 3Ts' leader, a man named Gideon Dorouv, was there that night. We were both going after him."

"It's a wonder the two of you didn't shoot each other," Bulldog grumbled.

The look Ivy gave him did not fill Angel with confidence that they hadn't.

Since there was no way to verify Ivy was working with Scar or that Scar had sent her, Steel was conflicted as to what to do with her. He decided on giving her a room at the clubhouse because there were enough members who lived there to keep an eye on her. She was forbidden to go anywhere near the Pentagon, the ol' ladies, and the club kids without a patched member present. She was also not allowed to be armed.

One of the Honeys walked into the clubhouse main area just as Steel was explaining to Ivy the rules. Ivy looked the barely dressed woman up and down and gave Steel a wicked smile. "I think I see enough to entertain me here."

That stopped some of the brothers talk of trying to get closer to Ivy. While Angel was completely into men, she could understand the appeal of Ivy. She was a leather-wearing, bike-riding badass. In comparison, the only leather Angel ever wore was her cut.

However, Angel couldn't help but glare at the Honey who put a little extra swing in her step after hearing Ivy's words. Angel could care less if Ivy did sleep with one or all of the Honeys. Her intense dislike of the Honey in question came from the knowledge that Cage had slept with her. Many times. Hell, Angel had lost count the number of times she'd seen Cage with all of the Honeys.

While there was a similarity between herself and Ivy, Angel felt herself wondering if Cage was as attracted to her as their other club brothers seemed to be. She tried to casually peek at Cage out of the corner of her eye to see if he too was checking Ivy out. Instead, she found him looking at her with a knowing look.

With Church interrupted and many of the members having to get to work, they all started to descend the stairs.

Cage threw his arm around Angel shoulders as they journeyed out. "Would it be corny of me to say that I only have eyes for you, Sweet Angel?"

She snorted. "I highly doubt that."

"I'm serious." He was keeping his voice low, his face turned into her ear. "I haven't slept with anyone since you."

Angel nearly tripped over her own feet. She stopped walking to face him. They were standing in the middle of the parking area outside of the clubhouse. Their club brothers were getting on their sleds or in their cages and heading off to their jobs.

Cage took his arm from around her shoulders. His expression was so open, like he was encouraging her to ask him questions or call him a liar.

Angel was willing to admit after the coffee incident in Church that perhaps she had been avoiding Cage more than she'd realized. Had she been subconsciously reading into things or suppressing them because it was Cage ? She didn't like the thought of that. But how else did she explain not realizing he'd been the one to serve her coffee in meetings for an entire year?

Demo, who was still recovering from the bullet wounds he'd received while protecting Jasmine, waved to them from the passenger seat of Bones's cage as they passed. Bones had a shift on the sales floor of the club's Harley-Davidson dealership and Demo was probably hitching a ride to wherever he needed to go. Due to the pain medication he was on, he was not allowed to drive a cage or a sled.

Once Bones's cage passed them, they were alone in the parking lot. Up until a year ago, the whole area had been gravel. Steel had contracted to have a paved parking lot put in, along with a concrete sidewalk, minutes after Angel had announced her intention to adopt Bree.

Despite the early morning, the blacktop already had some heat to it.

Maybe…maybe it was time to get some answers. It wasn't like the tattoo shop was opening that day. Patrick and the others were appalled at what had almost happened. Katie had said she would call and reschedule all of their appointments for the next three days. Angel hadn't heard from Carlos yet as to whether she was even allowed in the studio. Keys either had already gotten or wasn't asking permission.

"Why would you do that?" she questioned. At Cage's confused look, she clarified, "The coffee. Why would you be giving me my coffee for over a year?"

Cage shrugged. "You barely let me near you over this past year, Angel. When I was near you, it had to be about club business or you would push me away. If I even tried to do something nice for you, you pushed even harder. I wasn't going to risk something as simple as getting you coffee be the reason you completely barred me from your life."

Angel snapped her tongue against her teeth. "I did not push you away…" At Cage's raised eyebrow, she amended, "Completely."

Cage snorted. "Angel, if it wasn't for the fact that you wanted me to have a key to your house in case there was an emergency with Bree, I'm fairly certain you would have built an electrical fence around your house to keep me out."

Angel rolled her eyes, but she didn't argue.

"Are you ready to tell me why you have been pushing me away?" Cage asked. He didn't sound angry. A little defensive, maybe. "You said that I'm not a ‘one woman' type of man, but I think over this past year, I've proved to you that I am ."

Angel did not look away from him. She did not regret pushing Cage away. She couldn't deny that Cage had been there for her over the past year, even if it had been in a platonic way. A year ago, she had not been in a position to start a new relationship. And, frankly, neither had he. He'd been days away from becoming a living organ donor, though neither of them had known that then.

Cage ran a hand down his face. He stepped away from her. Angel watched in silence as he hung his head for several long seconds before walking back to her. "I don't understand. You're such a badass. You've never filtered yourself before. You don't care what anyone thinks about you. Why can't you just tell me what I did wrong or yell at me? Why do you keep pushing me away with no explanation like you would anyone else?"

Angel took a deep breath as she confessed, "That's the difference, Cage. You're real." Angel licked her lips before admitting, "I could care less what the world thinks about me, but I care a great deal what you think about me."

Cage looked like he wanted to pull her into his arms but held himself back. His jaw ticked. "I haven't slept with anyone but you in a year."

Angel flinched, because she couldn't say the same. "I've seen you with other women."

"I've kissed, yes, I've flirted. I'm not going to deny that I've been tempted." A small blush crossed his cheeks as he admitted, "But none of them felt right. None of them were you."

Angel had to look away or risk tearing up. "I guess our timing wasn't right a year ago."

Cage waited a beat before asking, "Have you considered that you pushed me away on purpose?"

She looked back at him. "I don't know what you mean."

"Sweet Angel," he put his hands on her shoulders, "you are the strongest woman I know. You have conquered armies and mountains and, hell, even became one of the top tattoo artists on the east coast." He squeezed her shoulders. "Have you considered that you pushed me away because you wanted to prove you could conquer motherhood too? And, in order for you to consider yourself successful, you had to do it alone?"

Angel opened her mouth to argue, to claim that that was an unfair assessment—but ended up closing her mouth again without having said a word. Despite being a twin, Angel had been alone most of her life. Her older sister had to prove she was just as driven and important as their politician father. She hadn't been close to Amber either. They weren't identical twins and had complete opposite personalities. Angel had always been more of tomboy whereas Amber had been a preppy cheerleader. Her family home had staff that raised her sisters and her. When her dad wasn't running for office, he was in the office.

She'd always been alone. She hadn't had anyone to lean on. Everything she had, everything she needed, she'd had to fight for. That hadn't changed when she'd joined the Army.

Looking to the left towards the direction of her house and Bree, Angel had to wonder: had she pushed Cage away in order to prove herself once again?

Angel had just gone through two traumatic experiences. In the timing of a week, she'd had a miscarriage from a chemical pregnancy and she'd been assaulted and nearly raped in front of her daughter. She'd gone through the first alone. Hell, she'd even kicked Cage out of her bed when he'd brought her soup thinking she'd had the flu.

When Angel had been tied to that wall, fighting against those brutes from taking off her pants, she'd feared the inevitable failure. Because it wouldn't have been just her failure. It wouldn't have just been her their violation would have hurt. Bree had been at the forefront of her mind, of course. Her daughter had suffered more in her short lifetime than most adults did combined.

Cage had been right behind Bree. Angel had been denying her feelings for Cage probably since the day she'd met him. She wouldn't be ‘one of the guys' if she was sleeping with a fellow brother or a patched brother while she was a prospect. She'd had to make her own stamp, her own mark in the VDMC. But she couldn't deny she had feelings for Cage. Seeing him with all of those women over the years and never once look at her? That day in the hospital bathroom, she'd felt seen by him. She'd felt that way again when he'd called her on her bullshit when Tessa had driven her home from the hospital following her miscarriage.

As she'd been fighting against the Python thugs, Angel had realized just how much she regretted how she'd treated him. She'd wished in that moment, for the first time in her life, that she wasn't fighting alone.

Was it possible she'd subconsciously pushed him away to vindicate her need to succeed on her own?

Looking at him now, patiently waiting for her to get her thoughts in order, Angel had to admit that it was very possible. "I'll talk with Juliana when I take Bree to her appointment. Maybe… Maybe I have some things I need to talk about too."

Cage moved his hands from her shoulders to cupping her around her ears. "Like I said, the strongest woman I know. Not many would be so easy to claim their faults."

Angel's eyes narrowed on him. "I'm not the only one with faults, buddy." She pointed an accusing finger at him.

"It's unfortunate that you know them too." He made a self-deprecating shrug. "As odd as it may seem, there's a part of me that I wish you didn't know me. I wish that this was our first meeting and you didn't know all my dirty secrets. I wish we could start over and learn everything about each other for the first time."

Angel watched him closely for several seconds. "I think you're missing a very important fact, Cage: I know your dirty secrets," she stepped closer, putting her hand flat on his chest, "and I'm still here." Feeling her cheeks heat, Angel cleared her throat. The man was far too enticing for his own good. She could get lost staring into his eyes. "When do you have to get to work? Do you want to have breakfast with Bree and me?"

Cage grinned widely. "I'd love to have breakfast with my girls." He leaned down and took her lips again. "I already called my foreman and told him I wasn't going to be in for the foreseeable future. Until the Python situation is handled, I'm not leaving your side."

"Not happening, Cage!"

Upon hearing the raised voices coming from the front of the house, Bree headed down the hallway to the living room. Cage and Angel were squared off against each other. Angel had her arms crossed over her chest while Cage stood with his hands on his hips.

Bree did not like that they were arguing already and hadn't gone on their first date yet. She wanted the two of them to get their shit together so the three of them could become a real family. One like she'd always dreamed of having. "What's going on?"

Angel turned and waved off Bree's concern. "It's nothing, baby. Cage is just being a moron."

Cage snorted. "I asked you out on a date. Why is it moronic of me to choose the location of said-date and be the one to drive you there?"

"Because I'm not riding bitch on your hog!" Angel threw back at him.

Cage rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but if I ride bitch then my shirt doesn't make much sense." He took his cut off and turned around. His black t-shirt, which was plain in the front, showed bright green lettering on the back: If you can read this, she fell off!

Bree burst out laughing. She had no idea why Cage enjoyed riling Angel up as much as he did, but she was grateful this argument was just one of those times.

Cage winked at Bree.

Angel read the back of his shirt and snorted. "You're a fucking asshole."

"Swear jar!" Both Cage and Bree said to her in unison.

Angel slapped herself in the forehead. "Where are we going on our date anyway?" she asked Cage.

"You'll find out when we get there, but make sure you wear something nice." He gave her a long look over. "Nice r , anyway."

Bree looked up and down her mom too. Angel was wearing her scuffed biker boots, ripped dark jeans, and a pink t-shirt that exposed some of her muscular midriff. On the front of her shirt, it had a sloth hanging upside down with no slogan.

"Come on, Mom," Bree encouraged. "Let's go find you something to wear."

Angel grumbled but relented. Just before she reached the hallway, she pointed a finger back at Cage. "I'm still not riding bitch!"

"Keep arguing," he threw back at her. "You're just going to end up paying for your own daughter's education faster!"

Cage waited for Angel and Bree to emerge from her bedroom with a mixture of excitement and impatience. Bree's crush on him was probably the worst kept secret in the club and was only rivaled by Batman's secret identity. She seemed to be in full support of them, which Cage was thrilled about.

Both Angel and Cage had taken Bree to her appointment that afternoon. She spent her therapist's lunch hour with her. Cage and Angel had gone down to the diner across the street for lunch, but Cage didn't consider that to be a date.

This was their first date and it would go down in history as the best date ever. He'd already called and booked their reservation. Mount Grove didn't have a lot of fancier choices, but there was a restaurant in Cottonville that was exactly the sort of place Cage was looking to take Angel. There was no doubt in his mind that she would love it.

He glanced down at his watch. They still had about fifteen minutes before they needed to leave. He was grateful Angel was not the sort of woman who needed hours in front of a mirror before she felt ready to leave.

Cage knew that Angel owned some fancier, feminine clothing. He'd seen her dressed up at Bear's and Lucky's weddings. For Bear's, she'd worn a dress pant suit with her cut. It had been cold, mid-February, and like the others she'd dressed for warmth over fashion. However, Lucky's wedding had been in May and outdoors under the clubhouse pavilion. Angel had worn a longer deep blue dress to match Harper's theme colors in addition to her cut.

Fuck, she'd been beautiful that night. Cage had wanted to ask her to dance, but she'd been in Mom-mode during the wedding. Cassie and Bree had become close friends since Cassie's arrival into Bulldog's life. The two shared a similar, horrific past and both had been taken in by parental figures that were not theirs biologically. While Bree's trauma manifested in dreams and a fear of strangers, Cassie's resulted in a case of agoraphobia. Generally, Cassie felt safe enough that she could manage journeying from her house to Bree's or the clubhouse. However, attending a wedding was a stressful time for her, as she'd been an unwilling child-bride at the young age of thirteen.

To this day, no one knew what had transpired in the clubhouse's secret cellar between Bulldog and the man who had raped his Abby as well as married and raped young Cassie. Cage remembered seeing Bulldog's face the next day and thinking the man looked to be at peace.

The prospects who had to clean up the cellar had not been.

During Lucky and Harper's wedding, Cassie had struggled. She knew that Harper was a willing bride as well as an adult. But weddings were a touchy subject for Cassie. Abby, who was still recovering from her own trauma, had also needed watching. Bulldog had stuck close to Abby while Angel agreed to stay with Cassie and Bree, who hadn't wanted to leave her friend's side. Eventually, Cassie had needed to leave. Bree and Angel had gone with her.

Cage had watched them leave, disappointed that he never got that dance with Angel.

What she wore tonight did not matter to Cage. She could have gone in her ripped jeans and cute as fuck tee if she wanted to. However, the restaurant Cage had chosen was on the fancier side.

Looking around the living room, Cage wondered if Angel could see him living here too. Did she think he'd want a bigger house? He didn't. This little house had become his dream over the past year. His clubhouse apartment had become like a prison. He hated returning back there, alone, each night.

He got that Angel wanted to take their relationship slow. But damn. He was ready. He wanted this life. He wanted his girls. Fuck, he wanted to see Angel pregnant with his baby.

It was like a drive now, an obsession.

A throat clearing behind him had Cage spinning to face the hallway, which was now dark. Bree sat in her chair and waved her arms like Vanna White. "Ta-da!"

Angel walked into the light of the living room and, holy fuck on a Tuesday, she looked amazing. Her short hair was pulled up onto a twisted clip that could easily be worn with a helmet. She had a light brushing of makeup that only accentuated her green eyes. She wore a long tunic shirt that landed at her thighs with a silver belt around her hips. Black leggings and stylish ankle boots completed the look.

Cage had to put a hand to his heart to ensure it was still beating. As he approached them, he saw the pride on Bree's face and knew that the teen had a big hand in Angel's outfit, hair, and makeup. He pulled out his wallet and handed her a twenty-dollar bill.

Bree took it but was confused. "What's this for?"

"Your college fund," he answered gruffly. He took hold of Angel's face. "Fuck, sweetness, you look fucking amazing." Then he kissed her.

Angel and Cage watch Bree push herself down towards Bulldog's house. The club's SAA was on the porch and waved in acknowledgement that he had her. They waved back.

Angel turned towards Cage. "Why don't we call a truce and take your Mustang?" A funny look crossed his face that made Angel feel like she was missing something huge. "What? I've always wanted to take a drive in it."

Cage cleared his throat but wouldn't look at her. "I sold the Mustang, Angel."

Her jaw dropped. He'd sold the car he'd gotten his road name from? "What? When?"

He shrugged like it wasn't that big of a deal. "About a year ago."

Angel's eyes narrowed. He still wasn't looking at her. His eyes kept glancing towards her driveway where her trike and Traverse were?—

Her eyes widened as she gasped out, "No!" Angel put her hand on his chin and forced him to turn towards her. "No, tell me you didn't. You did not sell your Mustang to buy Bree and I our cage."

Again with that damn shrug. "You needed it. I knew with the house and her medical expenses that you wouldn't be able to afford a new cage too and I was not going to see the two of you driving around in some piece of crap cage that could easily break down. I overheard you asking Grumpy to look into options for you and I…" He cleared his throat. "I knew I would get a pretty penny for my Mustang. It was vintage with all the original parts."

Angel felt like her heart was both cracking and swelling. He'd love that Mustang! He used to wash it everyday—shirtless—to keep the shine pristine. He turned down others who asked to drive it. He didn't allow any food or drink in it.

A year? He'd sold it a year ago and she hadn't noticed. Was she so self-absorbed that she hadn't even realized he'd sold his beloved vintage car to buy her a new one? Coffee was one thing, but his cage ? She recalled seeing him in his truck with the club's construction logo on it more frequently, but figured he'd been coming or going to work.

Tears filled her eyes and Angel raised a hand to her mouth in shock. "I didn't know. I'm so sorry. I didn't know?—"

Cage quickly took her into his arms. "Shh… It's fine. I don't regret selling it. I am not upset or resent doing so in anyway."

"I didn't even know! For a year!" Angel wrapped her arms around his waist. "How could I not have known?"

"Well, you've been avoiding me for one." He pulled playfully on her earlobe. "You think I haven't noticed?" When Cage turned his head, she felt his lips against her temple. "All joking aside, though, you've taken on a lot in the past year, Sweet Angel. It's understandable that you didn't pick up on some of the changes around here. Hell, sometimes it felt like I had to come here with the excuse to see Bree just to see you."

Angel let out a low groan. That only made her feel worse. "I'm such a bitch."

Cage shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm pretty sure I'm equally an asshole. I'll put up with your bitchiness if you put up with my assholiness."

Angel snorted. She lifted her head and stepped back from him. "I've been completely unfair to you."

"I haven't exactly made it easy on you either," he admitted. He nodded towards his hog. "How about you drive and I just keep the back of my shirt covered up?"

She grinned and agreed. "How come I had to get all pretty and you get to wear the same outfit you've been in all day?"

"Because I'm hot no matter what I wear and you— Ow! Ow! Ow!" Cage's pain was muffled by his laughter as Angel twisted his nipple over his shirt. "I'm sorry! Uncle! Uncle!"

Angel gave his nipple one last sharp twist before letting go. "Want to try that again?"

Cage wrapped an arm around her waist. "You're beautiful regardless of your outfit, sweetness. And where we're headed has a bit of a dress code. I have a dress shirt in my saddle bag."

Angel crunched her nose. "A dress code? What the fuck, Cage?"

He just grinned at her. "Trust me, you're going to love it. Let's get going. We're running late."

Bree watched from Cassie's bedroom window as Cage and Angel pulled out of their driveway. She didn't believe in God or any higher power, not after what she'd been through, but she desperately hoped that this date went well.

She turned her chair around to face her friend, who was lounging on her bed. "Well, they're off!"

"I don't get why you're rooting for them so much," Cassie said skeptically.

Bree pushed herself over to Cassie's bed. It was a little high for her to easily transfer herself, but still doable. "Because, if this date goes well, my mom's going to start dropping even more of her guard around him."

"People can have fantastic first dates and still break up years later." Cassie pointed to her blank television on the wall. "There are thousands of movies with that exact theme."

Bree hoisted herself up onto the mattress. "Don't be such a pessimist! I need this date to go well."

" Why? " Cassie repeated. "When we first met, you were doodling ‘Cage and Bree' in your notebooks with little hearts around them."

Bree winced, her face flushing. "You know that wasn't actual love. Cage saved my life and I latched onto him."

"Exactly," Cassie said with a bit of triumph. "Now you're rooting for him to become part of your family? It doesn't make any sense to me." Cassie poked Bree in the shoulder. "I know you. I see how you flinch every time Lila calls Bulldog," she leaned forward and said more gently, " Daddy ." Bree still winced. "Why are you pushing so hard for Cage to take on that role?"

"Because it's different," Bree argued. Unlike Lila who had called Bulldog and Abby ‘Daddy' and ‘Mommy' from nearly the beginning, Cassie still referred to them by their names. She likely always would. She didn't call them ‘Uncle' or ‘Aunt' like she did the other club members and their ol' ladies, but she also didn't see them as her parents. Cassie's reasons were her own, but Bree knew she was happy here.

"How so?" Cassie challenged.

Bree took a deep breath, not sure she was going to explain this right. "Look, Nathan Moore was not my father. He was a sick and twisted man with a proclivity that made him aroused by my helplessness and my pain. His need to have me call him…that word…was his darkness, not mine."

"You sound like Dr. Skurja," who was Cassie's psychologist.

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one in therapy," Bree acknowledged. "My point is that Cage is not like Nathan Moore or Crisco. He is selfless and sweet and he would never hurt me. I want a family , Cass. I want to have what I should have had for the past fifteen years. I have a right to have a family as much as any other kid."

"But why Cage ?"

Bree smiled. "That's simple. He makes Angel happy."

Cassie shook her head. "Not from what I've seen."

"I don't even think she sees it, but it's true. She's relaxed around him, like she subconsciously knows that he'll share the burden with her."

"I hope you're right. I don't want to take away from your dreams or Angel's happiness. I just don't think you should be setting your hopes up so high."

Bree shook her head. "I've hit rock bottom, Cass. I know what's down there. Setting my hopes high is the only way to keep me from ending up there again."

"What the ever-loving fuck, Cage?" Angel was so angry, she wouldn't be surprised if steam was coming out of her ears.

Cage dismounted off the back of his hog. He put his hands on his hips and smiled in the direction of the fancy restaurant with some French name that Angel had no hope of pronouncing. She didn't even know Cottonville had fancy restaurants.

He took a deep breath in and let it out. "Ah, brings back memories of my childhood. Ma grand-mère made the best boeuf bourguignon ." He made a chef-kiss gesture with his right hand. " Délicieuse! "

Angel stared at him and his stupid smile for a solid minute. "I have no clue what the fuck you just said." She pointed to the restaurant. "This is where you thought I'd want to have our first date? Really?" She indicated to all of the shiny vehicles that were parked by a valet service. Only a small portion of the parking lot was designated for self-parking. Angel indicated down towards her outfit that Bree had picked out for her. It was nice, but it was not fancy. "I am not dressed appropriately for this place."

Cage nodded like he was mulling over her concerns. His eyes roamed up and down her body, but she saw the glint in his eyes that told her he was mentally undressing her. Then he started laughing.

Angel scowled. She did not find this the least bit funny. "Cage, stop it. If you knew me at all, you'd know that this isn't my type of establishment." She couldn't help but feel embarrassed. Had he taken other women here? Was that why he felt so confident coming here with her? She was not fancy . The tunic she was wearing was about as dressed up as she got—with the exception of her friends' recent weddings. "I knew this date was a mistake."

That seemed to sober him up immediately. Cage stopped laughing and scowled at her. "You think I don't know that this isn't your type of establishment, sweetness? You think I haven't been planning this date for months to know exactly how to make it perfect for you?"

She glared at him and indicated to the restaurant with her left hand.

Cage glared right back at her and indicated to something with his left hand.

Angel turned on his hog to look over her right shoulder…and felt her blaze with heat as her eyes landed on Monte's Guns, Ammo, and Targets across the street from the fancy French restaurant. That fucking bastard.

Cage started laughing again as soon as he knew she'd picked up on his joke. Angel spun back around but Cage leapt out of her reach before she could slap his arm. He headed towards the gun range across the street.

"Loser pays for dinner," he called over his shoulder.

Angel hurried to throw the kickstand and chase after him. She punched him in the arm. Hard. "That was mean."

Still laughing, Cage looped his arm around her shoulders. "You should have seen your face."

"You do realize I'm going to kick your ass."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." He held the door open to the gun range for her. "Wait, you do mean actually kicking my ass, right? Because I can definitely see sparring leading to some fantastic sexy times."

"No, dumbass, I meant here." Angel walked up to the counter where she assumed they had to register.

"I think I have a fighting chance."

After they paid and collected their weapons, ammo, and noise-cancelling headphones, Cage led Angel into the back where the shooting range was. She chose two booths next to each other and put her gear down. Now this was her type of date.

"Loser pays for dinner?" she clarified with the excitement of anticipation.

Cage nodded as he inspected his Beretta M-9. "Just not that place," he indicated a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the fancy French restaurant. "I actually want to eat tonight."