Chapter Eleven

A fter spending a week at the clubhouse with Rachel at night and working security for Havlin during the day, Ruger found a cottage to rent one block from the oceanside. He pocketed the keys after paying the owner twice the going rate for a year's lease to keep the guy from doing a background check on him.

Since getting out of prison, he'd learned that money would make many people turn the other way and ignore the obvious.

He straddled the Harley and rode to the clubhouse. It took him four and a half minutes from the cottage—doable when a call went out, and he needed to ride out on security or to wash some money. He'd learned the ropes quickly over the last week. A good chunk of their money came from laundering money for Moroad Motorcycle Club through the pot shops Havlin ran security for.

He enjoyed the excitement and risk more than standing in the parts shop, filling orders all day.

His decision to rent a house had more to do with Rachel than his need to get out of the clubhouse. She tended to stay inside the room whether he was with her or not. He could tell that she was uneasy around the others.

At least living away from the clubhouse would give her the privacy to wander through the house and entertain herself until Shady contacted one of them. Her brother would have to find her another place to stay—a better place than the apartment he'd rented for her.

He walked into the clubhouse. All had was a duffle bag with his belongings in it. Twenty years ago, the club had put his belongings in one of their storage units in Beaverton. He had yet to walk back into the memories of his life before he was incarcerated when he was raising a little girl on his own and thought he had the rest of his life to be a dad.

That life was taken from him when he got arrested for a crime he never committed.

"Ruger," said Jagger.

He veered across the room and approached the meeting table where Jagger sat. He had the day off and had left earlier that morning, determined to find a place to take Rachel.

"Katrina's looking for you." Jagger leaned back in the chair. "She went to the doctor today."

His chest tightened. "Is she okay? The baby?"

Jagger nodded. "Everything's good."

"Where is she?"

"She thought you were in the bed—"

He stormed away from the table, heading to the hallway. He'd tried to keep Rachel away from Katrina. His daughter trusted no one and would come to his defense without knowing the whole story about what happened between him and Rachel. That attitude already had Katrina disliking Rachel.

His daughter stood outside the bedroom. Her hands on her hips only accented her baby bump. He hurried forward, not wanting either woman upset.

"He's already helped you enough, don't you think?" Katrina's focus was in the bedroom.

Ruger slid between Katrina and the doorway, blocking Rachel from the interrogation. "Jagger mentioned you were looking for me."

Katrina frowned. "Why is she here again?"

"She needed a little help."

"And you're the only one who can do that?" Katrina inhaled swiftly. "What's really going on?"

He stepped into the hallway and shut the door. "Daughter or not, that's none of your business, baby."

"Get real." Katrina's upper lip curled. "She's not one of the girls who hang around at the parties."

"No, she's not." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I got a place to rent today. I'll be moving out of the clubhouse. I'll give Jagger the address. If you need anything, you'll know where to find me."

"Are you taking Rachel with you?"

He nodded.

"She's trouble, Dad. You're going to end up in prison again, and I'll be visiting you twice a month," she muttered.

"Baby." He framed her face with his hands. "I'm not going to give up my freedom. For anyone." He kissed her forehead. "I have a grandson who'll be here in a few months. I'm going to be in your life."

Katrina inhaled deeply. "I was trying to find you."

"What do you need?" He'd drop everything to help her. All she needed to do was ask. He'd love to help her.

Katrina reached into her back pocket and removed a piece of paper. "This is a copy. I feared the original would wrinkle if I carried it around, so I left it at home."

"What is it?"

She handed him the paper. He gazed down, studying the picture. Katrina moved his hands, turning the picture to the side. Finally, he saw the baby.

He lifted his gaze. "This is your baby?"

Katrina's smile grew bigger. "It's a 3D ultrasound. You can see his nose and mouth so clearly."

He blew out his breath. "He looks like you."

"Really?" Katrina rocked up on her toes. "Jagger said the same thing."

He swallowed hard. Katrina was his before she belonged to Jagger. Those were the best days of his life.

He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Proud of you, Katrina."

She wrapped her arms around him, unable to latch her hands now that she had a baby in her stomach and his large size. "Love you, Dad."

"Katrina!"

Ruger groaned, recognizing the voice of his sister echoing in the hallway. Katrina straightened and held on to Ruger's vest. He gently took her hand off him and stepped back, feeling for the doorknob.

"Did you get your ultrasound?" Cora stopped beside Katrina. "I want to see."

Ruger opened the door and slipped inside the room, leaving them to talk without him. Cora was like a shark, intent on her prey, demanding more and more of his time. He had enough problems without taking on the responsibilities of his sister. That was Wire's job. Let her old man take care of her.

Inside the bedroom, Rachel stood from the couch. "I didn't mean to cause trouble between you and your daughter."

"Katrina will be okay." He gazed down at her body, noting the bare feet.

At one time, there was polish on her toenails, but only flecks remained. Since he'd rescued her, she hadn't had any comforts to indulge in, and he never heard one word of complaint from her.

She deserved more.

But with her brother in prison, she was alone.

"Get ready to ride." He entered the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, and soap. "And, uh, bring me one of those grocery sacks on the dresser, will you?"

Rachel walked into the bathroom and handed him the sack. "What are you doing?"

"Packing."

She hugged her middle. "Are you riding out?"

"We both are." He walked around her into the room. "Take enough clothes to fit in my duffle. I'll pick up the rest tomorrow."

"But why?"

"I got us a house."

"Us?" she whispered.

"That's what I said."

"I can live with you?" She grabbed a pile of clothes. "Together?"

"For now."

He opened the duffle, making room for her items. Once packed, he opened the door. They'd both be better off in the cottage. He looked forward to a whole night's sleep without listening to the Havlin members partying until the early morning hours.