Unbeautifully (Undeniable, #2)(76)

He told him about Danny’s prom night, what had happened at the lake, and the months following. He told Deuce how much he loved her.

He told him about Nikki’s death, that it had been Danny who’d killed her trying to save his life. He told him his reasons for leaving, that it had been all for Danny.

And then he told Deuce about the pregnancy.

He told Deuce everything. And through it all, sitting behind his desk, watching him impassively, Deuce said nothing.

When Ripper finished recounting his f*cked-up life, Deuce stood up and slowly crossed the room. Grabbing him by the collar of his T-shirt, Deuce got up in his face.

“What the f*ck you want me to say, Ripper? You been f*ckin’ my daughter behind my back for how long, I don’t f*ckin’ know, and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know.”

“She was legal,” he said quickly.

“Yeah,” Deuce said. “How f*ckin’ legal?”

“Legal enough,” Ripper muttered, looking down at his boots.

“Great. Fuckin’ great. Listen, f*ckhead, you hurt her again, you do one goddamn thing that makes her even a little bit sad, and I’m gonna beat your f*ckin’ ass. You do it a third time and I’m puttin’ you in the ground.”

Startled, Ripper looked up. “You’re cool with us bein’ together?”

“Fuck,” Deuce muttered. “Are you f*ckin’ stupid? No, I’m not cool with it, I f*ckin’ hate it, straight up, but what am I am gonna do about it? Kick you the f*ck out? Took you in when you were nothin’ but a cocky-ass teenager who wanted to party more than he wanted to work, always gettin’ into trouble ’cause your whorin’ ass liked your women dirty and dirty women meant dirty business. And then you were a depressed, drunken, miserable shit after what happened with Frankie…but f*ck, brother, you been with me for eighteen loyal years now and that means you’re family.”

Family. Jesus, he was about to break the f*ck down in front of his prez.

“I love her,” Ripper said quietly.

Under-f*cking-statement.

Yeah, he loved Danny, but that wasn’t even the half of it. She’d changed him in ways not even he could comprehend.

No longer angry, he’d slowly become a softer version of himself.

The old him, before Frankie, but even more so.

“Christ,” Deuce said. “I need a smoke. This shit is worse than gettin’ shot. First Z, now you.”

Ripper flinched. ZZ.

“I love her,” Ripper repeated, this time more forcefully. “And I ain’t gonna hurt her.”

Deuce’s nostrils flared. “You mean you ain’t gonna hurt her again. ’Cause you sure as f*ck did a number on her already. And I’m thinkin’ that an * like you isn’t gonna be able to make good on that.”

“I will. If she’ll let me.”

Deuce’s hold on him tightened. “What the f*ck does that mean?”

“Means if she lets me take her back to my bed, and she’s on the back of my bike, I ain’t never gonna let her outta my sight ever again.”

Deuce’s eyes narrowed.

Huh. Maybe mentioning Danny being in his bed wasn’t the best thing to say to her father.

“You gonna own that shit?”

Ripper’s eyes went wide. Was Deuce actually asking him if he’d marry Danny?

Marry? Danny?

Him?

“Yeah,” Ripper rasped. “Fuck yeah, I’m gonna own that shit.”

“Which means you’re patchin’ back in, Sergeant.”

He nearly choked on his surprise. Not only was Deuce telling him he could marry Danny, but he wanted him back as his right-hand man.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

“And ZZ?”

Ripper swallowed. That was going to be a hard one.

“Gonna try and make good on that too.”

And he would, he’d do everything he could to fix what he’d f*cked up. If the brother ever came back.

“Good,” Deuce growled. “Now, you f*ckin’ ready?”

Yeah. He loved getting his ass kicked. It was a great f*cking time.

“Yeah, Prez, I’m ready. You do what you gotta do.”

Deuce stared at him.

“Goddamn Preacher,” Deuce muttered, breaking the silence, shaking his head. “Goddamn that motherf*cker.”

Ripper didn’t have a clue what Preacher had to do with any of this, but he soon stopped wondering because Deuce had begun beating the ever-loving shit out of him. Twice. Then left him bleeding on the office floor while he stormed off, yelling for Eva. It had taken Ripper nearly three hours just to drag himself out of the office and onto this very couch. A couch he hadn’t left in two days. Aside from several broken fingers and some pretty nasty swelling all over his body, he was fairly certain he had a couple of cracked ribs and a mild concussion, all courtesy of Deuce’s steel-toed shit-kickers.

But all that weight he’d been carrying around, especially from the past three years, was gone.

Boom. Fucking gone.

And he wanted Danny back.

Fuck that, he was getting Danny back.

Cox stared at him. “Really? Damn.”

Ripper scowled. “Did you really think I’d let Cage beat the f*ck outta me?”