The Biker's Fate

Chapter 386: Chapter 386

He leaned forward. "Never want you to say that again. Don’t want you to think it, either."

I rolled my eyes.

"I’ll know, Grace."

I scoffed. "You can’t read my mind, Flea."

"You don’t think so?"

"Oh, I know so," I said.

He crossed his arms. "You’re thinking that for the first time in years, you feel safe and comfortable and it freaks you the fuck out."

I found myself fully enthralled with a dot on the counter, grabbing a paper towel to add some friction.

Flea chuckled. "I think that’s part of the granite, Grace."

I leaned down to study the dot. "Is it?"

"Grace," he said, slowly, quietly. "Look at me, honey."

I swallowed. God. Honey.

Baby and babe, I could handle, because he called all women babe or baby, but honey?

I straightened, turning my eyes away from the counter and up to him.

"You freaked?" he asked.

"Yes." There was no point in lying. I was freaked. And I was freaked because I wanted to bury myself in the essence that was Flea... and let him bury his dick inside of me.

God, I wanted his dick inside of me.

"You need to quit lookin’ at me like that, Grace," Flea warned.

I wrinkled my nose. "How am I looking at you?"

Before he could explain, my doorbell pealed, and Flea frowned. "You expectin’ someone?"

"No. But if Devon’s at the club, it’s probably Poppy," I said, heading for the door.

"Wait, babe," he countered, and slid past me, pulling open the door.

It wasn’t Poppy.

It was my dad.

"Merrick’s not here," I said, freezing in place.

"You gonna introduce me to your friend, Grace?" he asked.

"No. I’ll let Merrick know you stopped by."

He moved like he was going to walk in, but Flea shifted so he couldn’t. My dad looked him up and down and then frowned at me. "Need to talk to you, sweetpea. Can’t do that if I’m being blocked."

"You can call me," I said from my position in the living room.

"You don’t answer the phone." freewebnσvel.cøm

"Oops," I deadpanned, crossing my arms.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Gracie, I’m tryin’ here."

I squared my shoulders. "Too little, too late."

Direct hit.

"Grace," he whispered as his eyes clouded with sadness and regret and devastation, and I felt the ping of guilt. I was being cruel. On purpose. But this was our dance and I didn’t know how to get off the floor.

Dad frowned at Flea. "You gonna move aside, so I can talk to my daughter?"

Flea shook his head. "If Grace doesn’t want you in, I’m not lettin’ you in."

He sighed again. "I’ve met someone, Gracie. It’s serious, and I’d like you to meet her."

"No, thank you," I said as cheerily as I could.

"Goddammit." Before I knew what was happening, Dad had shoved past Flea and closed the distance between us. I let out a squeak of fright, and that’s when Flea moved.

He rushed for my father, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and wrestling him toward the door. The problem was, my dad was a cop, he was in shape, and he had several inches on Flea.

"Stop!" I squealed. "Please! Both of you, stop."

But no one was listening, so I was stuck in my place on the floor, watching them go at each other and I was completely helpless to stop it.

I wasn’t left waiting for long. The tussle ended almost as quickly as it began, with my dad on his back, Flea’s knee in his chest and my dad’s hands up in surrender. It was not lost on me that dad’s gun was in his holster and either one of them could have reached for and used it.

It also was not lost on me that my dad threw that fight and let Flea win. From the expression on Flea’s face, he also knew this. With a look of disgust, Flea stood, reaching out his hand to help Dad up, but keeping his body between us.

Dad ran his hands through his hair and focused on me again. "You and I are gonna talk, Gracie. I’ve given you space, ten years of it, and I’m done."

"What exactly are we going to talk about? Hmm? How you left me to nearly be murdered by your wife—"

"Your mother," he interjected.

"No. I disowned her the second she shoved a gun in my temple, then thought better of it and blew her own brains out," I snapped, suddenly panicking and finding it difficult to breathe. "All over me."

Flea spun to face me, reaching out to grab my shoulders gently. "Grace. Don’t go there. Breathe."

I gripped his cut and stared up at him, focused on his eyes and the gentleness in them.

"Breathe, Grace," he said again, and I did.

Deep.

Flea smiled. "You got this."

"I got this," I whispered, and he released me, turning to face my dad again.

"Look, man, you obviously care about your daughter, but she’s not really feelin’ up to talkin’, so it’d be great if you didn’t make this uncomfortable for her. Maybe give her a call and figure out a better time and place... one that’s in public. Not one where she feels safe, especially when you showin’ up unannounced could potentially change that. I’d hate for her to lose that." ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Dad did not look happy that Flea had just fought my fight for me, but I was past caring.

"You can’t let your boyfriend do all the dirty work for you, sweetness. I’ll call you and we can set up a time and place, but this is happening," Dad warned.

"He’s not my boyfriend."

Dad gave a little chuckle. "I stand corrected."

With one last glance in my direction, Dad walked out of the apartment and Flea closed and locked the door. "You okay?"