Chapter 16

Chapter

Sixteen

DIGG

There's not much I wouldn't trade to spend time in my truck with Frankie buckled in next to me, my hand on her thigh. The freedom and power that comes hand-in-hand with being on my bike might come close, though. Since Frankie came into my life, riding the bike has taken a backseat to carting us around in my oversized work truck. It's safer for my woman and our baby.

Yeah, I'm well aware the baby isn't my biological child, but I learned early in life biology means fuckall nothing when it comes to family. If it comes to it, I'd die for any of my Ghost Born brothers without hesitation. For any of their partners, too. On the other hand, the only way I'd piss on the woman who is actually blood kin to me if she were on fire is if my dick spat diesel.

"Still not sure why we're doin' errands for the Russian. He's not the boss of us." Ace's whine sounds tinny through the helmet speaker that connects us while we ride.

"What are you, five? It ain't an errand when we're working for the same outcome." My own words echo back to me over the connection. Deeper. Grouchier.

"Oh, whatever. Now, you're a team player? Fuck off, ‘Lo," he scoffs.

It's been ages since I got out, and Ace still barely tolerates my face. And okay, I probably should have thought more about how hurt Ace would be when I let myself get arrested. The kid's got trauma heaped on trauma that's let to a serious problem with even casual touches. For whatever reason, the aversion he's got to being touched eased up when it's me doing the touching. Or rather, it had before my jailtime.

Hugs, fist bumps, even nudging his shoulder into mine when one of the other guys did something stupid? None have been okay since I came home. Even more telling, he told me he doesn't want the Prince Albert piercing I'd promised I'd give him for his nineteenth birthday anymore.

When he'd first approached me about wanting a piercing, shortly after Shaw and Konrad had come home, taking guardianship of Ace while he was still a minor, it was because he wasn't comfortable letting a stranger do it. Because he trusted me, he wanted me to be the one stabbing needles through his skin. Now I've got scarred up holes all over my body from learning how to pierce so I can safely do the ones he wanted. Even got licensed to do the shit.

Believe me when I say piercing my own cock so I could be damn sure I knew how to do it before doing his ought to prove how much I love the kid. Now, I'm riding my cycle with a hard dick, thanks to the motor's vibrations turning the metal hoop through the tip of my cock into a nonstop sex toy.

So if anybody has the right to be irritated right now, it's me. And I fucking am. I resent every minute I have to spend away from Frankie. Especially the minutes wasted doing stupid shit anyone else could have done. Shaw sent Ace and me, and I get it. He wants us to fix our shit because the attitude the kid is throwing is impacting everyone in the house.

I get it. He's holding a grudge. Dunno how the fuck this little fieldtrip is supposed to chill out his ass, but I do what I'm told. At least, I do when I'm still on the prez's shit list from the last time I didn't.

"Let's just focus on the job, okay? You can continue your whining when we're on our way back to the house."

"Fine. Whatever. In a hurry to get home to your woman and precious baby?" His sneer drips with scorn, and look, I get it.

"Fucking shit, Babe. I'm fucking sorry."

"Don't call me that. Rules, asshole," he snarks.

"Club business, kid. Means now is exactly when I should call you that. Are you so scared of being replaced by Frankie and the baby you'll stay pissed at me forever?"

I know I've hit the nail on the head when he shuts up and gives me the silent treatment. On one hand, I get it. The kid's life has been a series of upheavals and changes he had no control over. I disappeared for half a year and then brought home a pregnant stranger and told everyone she's mine. That's serious turmoil for a guy only starting to figure out adulting.

The rest of the ride is quiet. Ace talks to me only when necessary, and I do the same. Just because I grasp the motivation behind his behavior doesn't mean I'm evolved enough it doesn't piss me off. Finally, we get to the warehouse Anatoly identified as a location of interest, get the all weather parabolic mics set up to record activity, then get the hell out of there.

We're about ten minutes from the clubhouse when the call comes through, our miked-up helmets, answering Shaw's ringtone automatically. Before either of us has a chance to bitch at him for nagging us about taking too long, he interrupts and blows my world apart.

"How far out are you? There's something wrong with Frankie. Jax and Blakely are rushing her to the hospital now."