Chapter 13

GRIZZ

Axel comes back into the office, locking the door and closing the blind so no one from the club can see in. "Get your shit together," he orders.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter.

"You love that little kid anyway. This is good news, right?"

"I have a kid with a fucking slag," I yell, turning on him.

He squares his shoulders, daring me to follow through but knowing I won't. I turn back to look out the window. "You love her, Grizz. Don't try to convince me otherwise."

"It doesn't matter anymore. She lied to me. Whatever was there is gone."

"Bullshit. No one can turn off feelings that quickly. She fucked up, man. It happens. Help her get Ivy back."

I turn to face him again. "No."

"You're gonna let your kid go into care?"

"Of course not. I'll get Ivy back, but not for Luna. She's gonna stay the fuck away."

There's a knock on the door and Axel unlocks it to let Lexi in. "She's gone home," she tells us, locking the door behind her. "You okay?"

"Fucking amazing," I spit, and she arches a brow in that way a teacher would if you're out of line. "No, I'm not," I add, more calmly this time.

"It's a shock, but you don't have time to dwell on the past. What are we doing to get Ivy back?"

"Apparently, he's going to get her back and raise her alone," says Axel sarcastically.

"What about Luna?" asks Lexi, frowning.

"You want me to let her back into Ivy's life after she's let her down so badly?"

"Yes," Lexi says simply. "You know she's a good mum."

"Really? She's a prostitute, Lex."

"That doesn't make her a bad mum."

"But leaving her with a junky while she goes to fuck men does."

"It wasn't her finest hour, but she made a mistake?—"

"It cost her child, Lexi. Stop making excuses. She had one job, to raise her kid right and keep her safe, and she failed."

Lexi narrows her eyes and places her hands on her hips. "You never made a mistake, Grizz? What's it like being so perfect?"

"I'd never let my kid down," I mutter.

"You already did," she yells, taking me and Axel by surprise. "She didn't get pregnant alone."

"I was drunk," I argue.

"That's not a fucking excuse," she snaps. "This is my whole point," she rants. "You all treat those women like personal sex slaves. They're humans, with lives outside of this club. They've suffered trauma and loss, and they're healing from scars, mainly caused by men. But none of you care about that as long as they can fuck. Well, it backfired, Grizz, and now, it's your turn to step up and fix this."

"I already said I'll get Ivy back, but I won't let Luna fuck her up."

"Aren't you the big man," she says, her voice dripping in sarcasm. "You're quite happy to break her heart and watch her fall, and now she's down there, you'll swoop in and rescue the baby you made together. What a fucking hero."

"Lexi," Axel mutters in warning.

"She loves Ivy and she was trying hard to change things so she could be a better mum. You didn't help in any of that," she says, shoving me in my chest. I arch a brow, glaring at Axel and willing him to get his woman under control. He gives a shrug, like he's waiting to see how it all pans out. "You gave her hope, Grizz, and then you dropped her like she meant nothing. You played a part in her fall, so don't stand there like you're fucking perfect. You're far from it."

Axel lets out a long breath as she steps back from me. "Now that's been said, you'd better call the social worker." He hands me a piece of paper.

Becki Alcott answers on the second ring. "My name is Warren Bear. I believe you took my daughter, Ivy Carter, into the care of the local authority today."

"Hey, yes, that's correct. How is Luna holding up?"

"I haven't called to talk about her," I say coldly. "What do I do to get Ivy back?"

There's a slight pause on her end before she recovers. "Have you been a part of Ivy's life for long?"

"Yes . . . sort of. I didn't know she was my daughter until now, but I've been in her life since she was two weeks old."

"Is Luna with you right now?"

"No."

"It would be helpful if you're on Ivy's birth certificate. The court will require a DNA test."

"I'll get that done."

"Ivy is under police protection for the next seventy-two hours. During that time, they can release Ivy into the custody of a parent, or it'll be put before a judge and an interim care order will be put into place. We'd prefer to work with the parents to keep your family together."

"So, what do I need to do?"

"I can come out and visit you in your home this evening?"

"Great." I reel off the address and set a time to meet.

I hang up, and Lexi fixes me with a hard stare. "Okay, this place needs a clean and, Axel, get all the things together that show what this club does for the community, every charity you've helped, and your plans for the future. They need to see this club as a pilar of the community and not a criminal gang."

"And if that doesn't work?" I ask.

"You'll need a safe place to live with Ivy. Go and find Luna. She was heading back to her place. I'll come."

"No," I say firmly. "I need to see her alone."

She glances at Axel for the final decision. He gives a nod, and I head out before he changes his mind.

Luna is sleeping.She's fucking sleeping! I slam her bedroom door open, and she sits up, looking around dazed. I pick up the empty wine bottle lying beside her and throw it across the room. It smashes against the wall, spraying tiny pieces in every direction. She ducks, a small scream escaping her.

I know why the front door is unlocked—it's so punters can turn up. She had my daughter here, in a flat where she'd left the front door unlocked for men to turn up to fuck. The thought makes me sick.

"Get up and shower. Now."

"Grizz," she mutters, scrubbing her hands over her face.

I head into the living room, frowning when I see the state of the place. Moving to the coffee table, I lift a half-drunk bottle of Ivy's milk. The teat is covered in ash from the nearby ashtray. No wonder social took Ivy if they saw this shitshow. I hear her approach. "Grizz, what are you doing here?" I don't miss the way her voice trembles in fear.

"This is where she's been living?" I ask, turning my angry gaze to her. She shrinks back slightly and folds her arms over her chest. "You let her live in this fucking shithole?" I yell, swiping my arm through the stacked takeaway boxes and empty vodka bottles. The mess sprays across the room.

"Things have been hard," she cries.

I close the gap between us until she's backed up against the door. "Don't you dare fucking cry again. If you'd have told me the truth, this wouldn't have happened."

"If you'd told me the truth, I wouldn't have got into this mess," she screams, shoving me away. I stumble back a couple steps. "You think I wanted this for her?" She waves her arms around at the mess. "I became exactly what you said . . . your mother." She spits the final word like there's a bad taste in her mouth. "And I hate myself for it."

"I didn't make promises," I argue.

"But you made me feel seen," she cries, letting her hands drop to her sides like she's defeated. "For the first time, I felt wanted." My heart twists a little as I fight the urge to hold her. "And then in the end, when you got bored, you wasted no time reminding me what I was—a whore."

The front door opens and Nate waltzes in like he's not got a care in the world. Behind him is an older man who looks higher than a kite. Nate's eyes settle on me and he looks mildly annoyed. "You're back so soon," he comments.

"Nasty black eyes you got there," I tell him.

"Luna, are you ready?" he asks, ignoring me.

"Not now, Nate," she mutters.

"Look, unless you're paying, get the fuck out," he tells me.

I grin. "I warned you what would happen if you didn't stay away from her."

"You two are done, take the fucking hint."

"And I bet that suits you," I snap.

"What the fuck do you want with her anyway? She's a whore, and you've got a club full of them. What makes this one so damn special?"

I close the distance in two steps, smirking at the flicker of fear in his eyes. I look past him to the old fucker who's about shitting himself. "Get out," I tell him, and he wastes no time escaping.

Nate uses my short break in eye contact to pull out a blade. I catch the glint of the metal, but not quick enough to avoid the tip slashing across my stomach as he waves it around wildly. I take a few steps back, and Luna notices the knife. She jumps in front of me, screaming at Nate to stop. "I'm sick of him sticking his nose in our business," he snaps. "Move out the goddamn way or you'll be joining him."

I pull her back behind me. "Touch her and I'll break your fucking neck," I warn.

He begins to walk backwards until he's stepping out the flat. I let him . . . his time will come. "You have no idea who you're messing with," he says, grinning, before disappearing.

"Pack another bag," I tell Luna. "You can't stay here."

LUNA

Grizz doesn't putme on the back of his bike to take me back to the clubhouse. Instead, he calls a prospect to come in a car and drive me back. It's another subtle reminder that he doesn't want me around.

I keep my head bowed as I walk through the club. The main room falls silent the second I step in, and I can't face the disgusted expressions now they know I've had my child removed because I couldn't keep her safe.

Grizz leads me upstairs to my old room, not the one beside his that I once shared with Ivy but the one on the whore floor. He slings my bag onto the unmade bed. "Shower and change. Wear something . . . appropriate."

"What for?"

"A meeting," he mutters, leaving the room without looking in my direction.

I shower and wash my hair, then I sit in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection. In the last week or so, I've changed. I look tired and sick. My pale skin is practically grey in colour, and the dark circles under my eyes aren't helping. If I had any tears left, I'd probably cry, but there are none.

I reach for the makeup bag I used to use and retrieve a bottle of foundation. I drop it back because I can't face applying it when I feel so empty. The door swings open, taking me by surprise, and Grizz stares at my naked body. "Was I not clear enough?" he asks. "We're leaving in five. Get ready."

I jump up, grabbing underwear from my drawer and pulling it on. His eyes aren't filled with heat like they used to be. Instead, they're full of hatred and anger.

I slip into jeans and a sweater and push my feet into the same old tatty trainers I always wear. His eyes linger there for a second before he grabs my leather jacket and throws it towards me. I catch it and put it on, then follow him out the door while tying my wet hair into a messy bun.

We use the car again, and he drives us into town, parking at the registry office. "Why are we here?" I ask, staring out the window at the people all rushing around after finishing work.

"You're putting me on the birth certificate."

I frown. "We can't just do that. We have to have an appointment."

"I know a guy," he mutters, getting out the car.

I sigh heavily and follow. He's already entering the building before I've even mounted the steps. I rush to catch up, but each stride he takes is worth two of mine. It's clear he doesn't want to be seen with me, so I slow my pace. When he stops at the reception desk, I hold back, not feeling worthy enough to stand beside him.

The receptionist leads us through to a grand office, where a gentleman sits behind a huge desk. He shakes hands with Grizz and tells us to take a seat, which we do. Grizz holds out Ivy's birth certificate, and I frown, wondering where he found it. He must have gone through my things at the flat.

"I need the full certificate, with my name on it," Grizz tells him.

The man gives a nod and begins tapping away on the computer. "Are you married?" he asks.

Grizz gives an unamused laugh. "No."

"Okay, let me just check the details. Ivy Carter?"

"That needs changing too," says Grizz, and I glare at his side profile. "Ivy Bear." I almost laugh at the name.

"Okay. And you're the mother?" asks the registrar, and I give a nod. "Can you confirm your name?"

"Luna Carter," I mutter.

"Okay. I'm adding Warren as Ivy's father, correct?" I glance at Grizz, realising I never knew his full name, which seems silly seeing as we've spent so much time together.

"Yes," I whisper.

He taps away on the computer before giving a nod. "All done." He prints the certificate off, and Grizz slides an envelope across the desk which I assume is full of cash.

We get outside, and he tucks the new birth certificate into his inside pocket. "I thought you'd want a test," I mutter.

"Oh, I do," he says, descending the steps and still not meeting my eyes. "But my name stays regardless."

"She is yours, Grizz. I swear it."

He ignores me, passing the car and heading into the town centre. "Where are we going?" I ask, trying to keep up with him.

"You need trainers."

"I can't afford?—"

"I know," he mutters, continuing to speed walk in front.

The sales assistant in the sports shop is kitted out in tight Lycra shorts and a low-cut top that pushes her breast up in a way I can only dream of since having Ivy. She instantly flirts with Grizz, and he does nothing to deter her as they discuss which trainers they have in my size without asking my opinion. Not that I have one. Shopping is low on my list of priorities right now.

Grizz goes off with her, and I take a seat, staring down at the floor, my mind filled with thoughts of Ivy. When he returns, he holds out an open box containing a pair of white trainers. They look expensive, and the sort I'd always avoid. "Try them on," he orders. The sales assistant stands behind him, watching the exchange with curiosity. When I make no move to take them, he sighs impatiently and kneels before me. He removes a tatty trainer that looks so out of place in this shiny shop and discards it. He gently takes my ankle and slides the trainer onto my foot then proceeds to feel for my big toe, like I'm a child. It's so sweet, I almost smile, but then I remember he does this sort of shit and it means nothing. He hates me, and he wants to take Ivy from me.

He sets about removing my other trainer and replacing it with the new one. He then puts the tatty trainers in the box and stands. "We'll take these and the same pair in black." Then he goes off to pay, leaving me sitting on the chair wondering what the hell his game is.

When he drags me to the nearest clothes store, I stop. "Okay, what's going on?"

He gives me an irritated look. "You need new clothes."

"Why?"

"Because . . . because your shit is old." I'm insulted. I don't have money to throw away on clothes, sure, but what I wear isn't exactly falling off me. I always try to look presentable, and most of my time is spent in underwear because of my job. "Don't you want the social worker to see you're trying?" he asks. His words have the desired affect, and I trail behind him around the shop but not showing any interest as he grabs things and piles them into his arms.

By the time we get back to the clubhouse, I'm exhausted, but Grizz hasn't finished with me as he marches me to my room and picks out an outfit of designer jeans and a cream knitted top. I eye the garments. "The social worker is coming here in the next ten minutes. Get changed."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"You heard. Get changed." He stomps from the room, and I lower onto the bed and stare at the ground. The last twenty-four hours have been a lot to process, and the thought of now speaking to this woman who's messed my life up makes me sick to my stomach.