Captured (Devil's Blaze MC #1)(41)

Fucking Jan without a condom trapped me. I got drunk off my ass one night and woke up in bed with her the next morning, damage done. I panicked the whole f*cking time, terrified she’d be knocked up. I prayed even. Not that I knew much about praying, but it seemed like the thing to do. When she turned out that way, I stepped up. Made her my old lady, even though Skull did his damnedest to talk me out of it. I didn’t listen. I didn’t want to put much effort into having a woman. This made that easier. The only f*cking time I had to talk much to Jan was when she wanted something and that got me sex. It was easy and it protected my child. I may not have wanted Jan pregnant, but I did want Annabelle.

It’s four in the morning and I’ve drunk so much that I’ve come full circle—I’m practically sober again. My head is foggy and it hurts to breathe, but I don’t think that has shit to do with the hangover. Torch and a couple of the boys grabbed a cage and insisted I ride with them to the Boot. The Boot is an old honkytonk. It doesn’t get much business, and that’s what I wanted. I didn’t want to be bothered; I wanted to sit at a bar and drink my ass off, and that’s exactly what I got. The men know me, so they didn’t talk to me either. They just watched my back. Still, I didn’t want them around me. They saw that f*cking shit with Jan and I didn’t want anyone to realize what a sad f*ck I was or how stupid I’d been.

I make my way down into the shelter part of the club. I should have stayed topside in my room up there as far away from Jan as I could. I need to see Annabelle just once. Her and Jan’s room is separate from mine, and Jan stays in there sometimes. I doubt it’s out of any motherly feelings; she’s a piss-poor mom. It’s probably to get away from me, and I’m okay with that.

Luckily, the bitch isn’t here tonight.

I clean the loose money out of my pockets. I’m not sure how much is there, four or five hundred dollars. Hell, I think I tipped the bartender two hundred. I lay it down, as well as the keys to the Durango that Torch threw me when we parked up. They drove me home, but it was my cage. I guess he trusted me not to take off again tonight. Softly, I lie down on the bed beside Annabelle. She’s truly beautiful: dark-brown hair that glistened, a cute little button nose, and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. You can’t see them right now because her eyes are closed, but when they’re open, her irises are a mixture of browns, golds, and greens, and they sparkle. I have blue eyes. My baby’s eyes are totally different and always makes me smile.

I find myself thinking how Terry’s were the same color.

The knowledge is burning a hole in my gut. It’s tearing me up inside and mostly because I think Jan’s words might be the truest thing she’s ever said. Terry is probably Annabelle’s dad, not me. The one thing I’ve ever done in life that I was proud of, and…

My hand comes up to hold my daughter’s. It’s so small and delicate, so pale and white compared to the sunbaked, inked-up dark complexion of my own. We’re so different, especially in ways that a father and daughter ought to be at least a little similar.

That hole in my gut burns brighter, harder.

“Daddy loves you, Belle,” I tell her, letting the tears run free. They’re silent, but they’re torn from me because I’m broken. It won’t matter. Terry’s rotting in the ground and that f*cking bitch Jan is one line away from snorting her last. She’ll overdose without me watching over her and I don’t f*cking care anymore.

Nothing matters but my daughter. And she is mine.

I may not have fathered her with my seed, but I’ve been there. I held her when she had high fevers and Jan was out partying. I read her bedtime stories, rub her stomach when it hurts, chase off the monsters that she insists hide under her bed… I’ve done all of that and I’ll continue to do it. She’s mine. “Daddy loves you, Belle,” I whisper again, dried tears on my face as my eyes close and I finally let alcohol and sleep claim me. “Daddy, loves you…”





I really f*cked up tonight.

Spending an hour sucking some damn prospect’s dick didn’t help shit. The * told me he could get me a key to one of the vehicles outside. After I got him off, he told me Skull and Torch had taken all the keys during lockdown. Bastard could’ve told me that shit before I swallowed his pencil dick.

I need to lay low until I can find a way out. There’s no way I can face Beast until I have a plan. He’s an idiot, but I doubt he’ll even buy that I was lying about it all. Now that I’ve ripped the blinders off, he has to know that Terry is Annabelle’s dad. Shit, I never even f*cked Beast that night. I knew I was knocked up, and Terry and I drugged his ass so that when he woke up, he’d think he could be the father when I told him.

Terry was the love of my life, but he didn’t have a dime to his name. Beast was loaded, and Terry was already facing ten to fifteen in jail for attempted manslaughter. We needed Beast, so we used him, plain and simple.

And I still can’t believe I f*cked it all up last night.

I freeze when I get to Annabelle’s room and find the bastard lying on her bed. He’s huge, way over seven-foot and he looks like the side of a house, he’s so f*cking big. His dark hair is long and he constantly wears a beard—entirely too much hair. He can’t even carry on a conversation unless you count grunting. I hate him. He could’ve kept Terry out of jail.