1. Trick

Iwake swallowing a scream.

My heart batters against my ribs as I jackknife upright, the last wisps of the nightmare I was trapped in dissipating like smoke.

Fumbling for the lamp on the bedside table, my shoulders slump as the light chases the shadows away but not the demons.

There’s no cure for them.

It’s been thirteen months since they murdered my wife, and four weeks since I moved back into the house we’d bought to raise our family in.

While the rawness of my loss has faded to a dull ache, it still remains. Colours are faded and things that used to bring me joy no longer excite me. The only reason I get up every day and fight is the little girl sleeping down the hallway. I owe my daughter everything I can give her and more.

I’m not proud of the things I’ve done. For a time, I couldn’t acknowledge Sophia’s existence, too afraid that if I did, I’d poison her with the filth covering me. My inability to be a good father pissed off a lot of people, especially Heidi.

She was once a part of this club, a fucking important part, and not just because she was the old lady of one of our brothers, Crow. He was murdered a few years back, jumped by a low level gang who wanted to prove a point about who ran this city. We hunted those fuckers down, killed every single one of them, but it was too late for Heidi. Her grief made her angry. She blamed us for the death of her husband and she retreated. The shit thing is we let her do that. I was happy when she started coming back around the clubhouse, even if that fury still lingered. She was coming home. Then Mara died and she did the ultimate good deed. She stepped up and took care of my daughter.

Abandoning my child is just one of many sins I need to atone for. Sometimes, I think there isn’t enough time left for me to right all the wrongs I’ve made. The task feels too big, too hard, but then I think about Sophia, and I know I have to try for her.

She deserves a family, and the club is the only one she’s ever known. I want her to grow up surrounded by aunts who adore her and uncles who would take a bullet to keep her safe.

But this life… it’s fucking dangerous, and the consequences of things gone wrong are fatal. I’m fucking tired of burying people, of living amongst pain and misery.

I don’t like to admit it, but sometimes, when my thoughts are darker, I think Sophia would be better off without me. I’ve considered more times than I can count letting Heidi take her away to give her the normal life that I can’t. I destroy everything I touch, and I am terrified I’ll do the same to her. But I’m a selfish bastard, and I need Sophia far more than she needs me. She’s the only thing that stops me sliding back into the monster I had been. I clawed my way out of hell for Sophia, because I want to be better for her, but she’s also a catalyst for the darkness creeping back in.

It’s not new for me to experience torment, even in my sleep, but the things I dream are fucking unhinged. Tonight’s nightmare leaves me unsettled because it featured Sophia.

I force my corded throat to relax, sucking in air through my nose as that lump of meat in my chest thumps violently against my ribcage.

How much more do I have to suffer?

Is it not enough I lost everything without the threat of losing the only good thing I have left?

Trying to calm the emotions swirling through me, I swallow the dryness in my mouth.

I hate this room. I hate this entire house. My wife’s fingerprints are all over every part of the space, the ghosts of our past haunting my every move. I wish I could burn it to the fucking ground. There are so many memories here, both good and bad, and I’m sure they are part of the reason for the nightmares.

I need to get a fucking grip. This stroll down to self-pity city helps no one, least of all me.

Rubbing my chest, I swing my legs out of bed, my toes scrunching into the carpet as I lean forward. Every inch of me vibrates with tension, but I try to unknot my shoulders anyway.

“Fuck.”

Why am I dreaming that fucked-up shit? Sophia is perfectly safe. There’s no reason to think the Pioneers will come after her. They want me, not my child, but my subconscious knows how ruthless Richardson’s men are.

They’ll use her to get to me, and that knowledge is why I’m having nightmares. Once again, my decisions, my shitty choices, are fucking everything up.

I reach for my phone on the bedside table. It’s just after four a.m., and judging by the stillness of the house, my daughter is soundly sleeping—as is Heidi.

It’s selfish to risk waking them, but I can’t rest until I lay eyes on my daughter.

I stand and settle my jogging bottoms on my hips, not bothering to find a T-shirt before I go to the door. I’m only going to look in on her and then head back to bed.

Avoiding the creaky floorboard on the landing, I keep moving until I’m outside my daughter’s nursery. The dim nightlight shines through the gap in the door, and I raise my hand, intending to push it open, but something stops me.

What am I doing?

Sophia is asleep, and I’m creeping around like a fucking maniac because of a bad dream.

Dream or not, it felt fucking real.

A noise reaches my ears before the whimper. I blow out a breath and step into the room, flicking on the lamp on the dresser. The cot is against one wall, the changing table on the opposite. There’s a chair in the corner for feeding, a knitted blanket hanging over the back of it. The walls are a pale green, which matches most of the soft furnishings. When we decorated this room, we had no idea what our daughter would be like, but the space somehow fits Sophia.

Slowly, I walk over to the cot and peer in. My daughter is beautiful, with a crown of thick, dark hair and bright blue eyes. Her chubby cheeks are stained with tears, and I wonder how long she’s been fussing for.

Why didn’t Heidi hear her?

I glance over at the baby monitor on the side. The other sits on Heidi’s bedside table, but it should be on mine. Sophia is my responsibility, but I also meant it when I told Heidi I wouldn’t push her out. She loves my daughter—I see it in the fierce way she protects Sophia, even from me—and my daughter loves Heidi. I don’t want to take that relationship away from either of them, and if I’m being honest, I like having Heidi here. It’s easier to ignore the demons creeping around me when I have a distraction.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” My voice is soft as I lower the cot side.

Sophia tries to talk, but the babbling sounds she makes don’t resemble words, and eventually, she sucks on her fist.

Maybe I should wake Heidi, let her do this.

I shake myself. No, fuckhead. Just pick your daughter up and take care of her. Be a fucking father to her.

Sophia’s bottom lip sticks out as I lift her out of her cot, and she makes noises that are building to a cry.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” I say to her, holding her against my chest like the precious thing she is.

As always, the darkness fades the moment she’s in my arms. My daughter soothes the monster in me and reminds me that I can be better.

She settles after a moment, grabbing a fistful of my beard. The pain has my eyes watering, and I gently try to unhook her little pincers. Grabbing my facial hair has become a game to her lately.

Distracting her by tickling her side, Sophia lets go of my face and cackles. It hits me in the gut how she can be so pure in a world like ours.

My hand moves over her bottom as I readjust her, and I can feel the fullness of her nappy. “Is that why you’re awake? Do you need to be changed?”

I glance at the door, expecting Heidi to appear and take over, but she doesn’t. I’ve seen her do this before, so I know the basics of how it works, but I’ve never changed Sophia by myself.

It can’t be that hard, right?

I walk over to the changing table and lay her down. Keeping one hand on her belly so she doesn’t roll off, I rummage through the drawers, finding a nappy and wipes.

My daughter sucks on her fist, her eyes watching me with interest. She might as well be scoring me out of ten.

“Don’t judge me,” I tell her. “Your dad’s pretty fuckin’ useless, but I’m gonna try, okay?”

She just stares up at me with those big soulful eyes, and I wonder if she sees the blood staining my soul. Does she know the crimes I’ve committed, the torture I’ve inflicted to avenge the mother she will never meet?

Fuck.

Unsettled by that thought, I focus instead on undoing her sleep suit, letting her presence bring me calm. One day, I’ll tell her everything about Mara and how much she was loved before she was born. I never want my daughter to forget her mother.

As I unzip the suit, I’m hit with the stench of shit. Fuck. Me. She must have dropped a radioactive nuke. I wrinkle my nose as I fumble to get her free of it, but as I unfurl the nappy, I realise how out of my depth I am. There’s a lot of shit.

Get it together, Trick. She’s just a baby.

I’ve killed men and bathed in blood from their wounds. This is nothing.

Grimacing and trying to breathe through my mouth, I use the unsoiled part of her nappy to wipe away the excess shit, just as I’ve seen Heidi do. Then I methodically clean every inch of my daughter. When I’m done, I dry her skin, and spotting some cream I’ve seen Heidi use before, I smear it where I think it should go.

She fights me as I lift her legs to slide a clean nappy under her. It takes some guesswork, but I get her into it and change her into a clean pair of tiny leggings and a little T-shirt. I don’t know if that’s what she’s meant to wear, but it’ll do.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Is she okay?” Heidi’s sleepy voice has me turning.

For some reason, guilt washes over me. It’s crazy. Sophia is my child, and yet I feel the need to justify myself.

“She needed changing.”

“You should’ve woken me.”

“It’s fine. I managed.”

She rubs at the back of her neck, her eyes heavy. “I didn’t hear her crying. I think the batteries are dead in the baby monitor in my room.” She steps into the nursery, peering at Sophia. “Did you use the nappy cream?”

“Uh… yeah. I used that stuff.” I point to the tube I’d picked out. “Is it wrong?”

Heidi shakes her head. “It’s fine.”

I don’t know shit about being a parent. Even in the last month, I haven’t learned enough yet to be a good father. I’m not sure I ever will.

And Sophia reminds me of the fact as she reaches for Heidi, her little fingers trying to grab her. It’s not me she needs.

It’ll never be me.

I hand her over, a lump settling in my throat and stomach. I don’t deserve trust from my child. She doesn’t even know me.

My chest tightens, and I step back, elastic bands snapping around my lungs as I watch Heidi press a kiss to my daughter’s temple.

“You’re so good with her,” I remark.

Heidi’s eyes soften. It’s a change from the past few weeks where she’s been prickly towards me.

I get it. I walked away and then walked back in, wanting to play dad, as if nothing happened.

“I was terrible in those first few weeks,” she admits with a sheepish smile. “Sophia cried nonstop and nothing I did settled her, but eventually, I learned her cries and what they meant.”

She might as well be talking another language. I have no fucking idea about any of this, and I am so out of my depth, I’m drowning.

I scrub a hand over my face, heavy weight bearing down on my shoulders. “I don’t know how to do this.”

She shifts Sophia on her hip, and my daughter relaxes against her. “All she needs is to be loved. Everything else is just basic stuff. Feed her, clean her, keep her alive.”

Love is the one thing I can give her.

Even though it’s only been a short few weeks since I started to connect with my daughter, my heart is already full of her. I know I would die to keep her safe.

“I don’t know what would’ve happened to Sophia if you hadn’t stepped up.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have had to, and I’m still pissed at you for leaving like you did,” she says. “You should never have gone after those bastards, though I understand why you did. I see you’re trying to make things right, and that’s all you can do, Trick.”

“I’m never gonna stop trying to make things right,” I assure her.

“I can see that, but she’s not going to break. You don’t have to be scared of taking care of her.”

“I don’t want to overstep.” It’s not a lie. I feel like a fucking imposter.

“She’s your child. You’re not overstepping.”

I brush my knuckles over Sophia’s cheek, her soft skin like velvet, and she pulls away, burying her head in Heidi’s neck.

That fucking stings, I can’t deny it, but I understand it too. When Heidi’s in the room, it’s her my daughter wants. She’s the one who comforted her when she was sad, took care of her when she was sick. Heidi put her to bed every night and kissed her better. I can’t compete with that, and I can’t change the past, but I can make the future better.

I lower my hand, masking the disappointment that rolls through me. Not with Sophia—never that—but with myself for allowing me to be a stranger to my own child.

“She just doesn’t know you properly yet,” Heidi soothes. “Just keep showing up and she’ll come around eventually.”

I hope that’s true.

I kiss my daughter’s head and then take a shower while Heidi watches her. My past chips at my mind as the water cascades over my shoulders, and I have to swallow down the pain and regret.

I’m tired… so fucking tired of living like this.

When I’m done, I stay with Sophia while Heidi gets ready for the day. My gaze stays locked on my daughter in her highchair as she eats her breakfast. She’s wearing more of it than she’s got in her mouth, but I’m fascinated by everything she does. I can see features of both mine and Mara’s in her face but also something uniquely hers.

How did I nearly throw this away?

By the time Heidi appears in the kitchen, my mood is morose.

I glance up from wiping my daughter’s hands and face as Heidi moves over to the kettle. Her damp hair hangs around her shoulders in loose curls, and her face is free of makeup, making her look younger, more carefree. More like the old Heidi… before Crow was murdered.

We were all different people back then, and even though times were hard while we were gaining a foothold in the city, it never felt bleak—not like now.

The loose sweater she’s wearing has slid off one shoulder, revealing the contours of her neck, and my gaze trails down the bone to the swell of her tits.

Fuck, I shouldn’t be looking at her like this, and I’m not sure why I do. I’ve never considered Heidi in that way before—she was already with Crow when she came to the club, and I was with Mara—but being around her these last few weeks has changed things. I’m not sure if it’s the different dynamic or the way she looks after my kid, but looking at her now makes cock stir in my jeans.

Before I do or say something I can’t take back, I tear my gaze away and push to my feet, grabbing my kutte off the back of the chair next to me.

“I gotta go.” I shrug into it. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back, but if you need to go anywhere, call it in. A prospect’ll take you.”

“I know the rules,” she bristles.

Heidi has made little secret of the fact she’s frustrated by all the sanctions placed on her because of the club. I can’t blame her for that, but the moment she took on my child, Heidi put a huge target on her back. I’m not going to allow her to get hurt because of me.

“I know it’s shit, but it’s for your safety.”

Heidi turns to me, leaning back against the counter. “How long are we going to have to live like this?”

“Just until we find Richardson,” I say, pressing a kiss to my daughter’s head. “Be a good girl for Daddy. I’ll see you later, Heidi.”

“Don’t let them walk all over you,” she blurts, taking me by surprise.

It’s the first time she’s said anything about the treatment I’m receiving from my club brothers, which swings from disinterest to outright hostility.

Rage wants to smash my teeth down my throat—understandably, considering what I did to his old lady. I suspect for the first few weeks after I moved back in, Heidi relished watching me suffer. I’m not sure what’s changed.

“I fucked up. I deserve whatever shit they give me.”

“You did fuck up, but you can’t keep being their punchbag.”

She’s right, but nothing I’m doing seems to help. I’ve done all the shitty jobs, taken crap off any member without a word. I’ve tried to prove my worth and show I’m loyal, but this is the problem with breaking trust—it’s hard to repair.

“I’ll see you later,” I say before I head for the front door.

I stop briefly to grab my keys and wallet from the bowl on the console table, then I take my time locking the house back up. Everything precious to me is inside these four walls, and I hate having to leave them here.

Them. Not just my daughter, but Heidi too.

When did she become just as treasured to me as Sophia?

Probably around the time she gave up everything to take care of your daughter.

With a glance at the house, I pull my gloves on and walk over to my bike parked behind Heidi’s car. It’s early, so none of the neighbours are moving, but I can hear traffic in the distance, telling me the rest of the city is. As I reach my bike, I scan the street, checking for enemies, before I feel safe enough to pull my helmet on. I understand why Heidi is pissed with things. I would give anything for life to return to normal, but that won’t happen until we take out Richardson and his fucking men.