Page 41 of Striker

Josie’s not having it. She turns her face into my neck and mumbles, “Want Mama.”

Tessa reaches out to gently rub her back. “It’s alright, sweetie. Your daddy’s gonna go get your mama and bring her home, and you’ll stay with me and play with the other kids till your mom and dad come home, okay?”

When Tessa calls me Josie’s daddy, my whole world stops spinning. I just stand there with Josie in my arms as every single thing I’ve been missing slowly falls into place in my mind. How I thought Josie was much younger at first because she’s so small. I never once did the math. But Beth told me she’s two years old, born premature and still catching up. It’s been three years since Beth left me. Suddenly, the numbers do add up in my favor. I look down at Josie’s stubborn little face, and I see it for the first time. She might have Beth’s strawberry blonde hair, but she has my expression. I realize for the first time that Beth was pregnant with my child when she left. Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it.

“Tessa. Repeat the part about me being Josie’s father. I didn’t quite catch what you said there.”

Tessa freezes, and when her eyes lift to mine, I see the alarm in her expression. She clearly wasn’t supposed to let that slip the way she did. Her mouth opens and then closes again. I can see she’s struggling to explain.

“For fuck’s sake! This might be the most important moment of my life. Just tell me the truth.”

Tessa’s too good a woman to lie to a man’s face about something this important.

“Queenie guessed it,” she whispers. “Today, while we were at the spa, she said Josie looks like you in the face. You know how Queenie is. She always knows. Remember how she knew Slate was Katie’s father before anyone else?”

I shrug. Truth be told, I was probably too wrapped up in my problems at the time to pay much attention to what was happening around the clubhouse.

“Well, Beth admitted Josie’s yours. Beth said she’s been trying to find a way to tell you since she came back. She was gonna tell you tonight.” Her face crumples. “I’m so sorry. I should have minded my mouth instead of just blurting it out that way. It’s just that today’s been so stressful and I wasn’t thinking properly. It just came out.”

“Don’t be sorry, Tessa. You ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

A secret this big should totally wreck me. It doesn’t, though. What it does is make me want to hold onto my precious little daughter harder. I suddenly don’t want to let her go. When my arms tighten around her, her little arms tighten around my neck.

She whispers, “Don’t go, daddy.”

Hearin’ those words makes my heart sing with joy. Maybe another man would be upset that the mother of his child didn’t tell him right away. I was an ass and Beth had her reasons. What I am is grateful that she chose to give birth to my child. It couldn’t have been easy for her these last few years. Beth had my child, loved her, took care of her and let me be around her. That’s the best outcome I could have hoped for considering the circumstances.

And now, I have a daughter. That little girl with the stubborn expression, hugging me back fiercely. And the woman who carried her alone and birthed her alone and raised her alone for two years is missing. And I’m the only one who can find her. That has to come before hugging and being with my daughter.

I tilt little Josie’s face up, so I can look into her eyes. “I need you to go blow bubbles on the porch with the other kids so I can get your mama. Can you do that for me?”

“Keep my daughter close,” I tell Tessa. “Don’t let her out of your sight. I don’t know what I would do if I lost her too.”

“Don’t worry, Striker. I’ll keep her at my side no matter what.”

I give Josie a kiss on the top of the head and hand her over. “She wants juice.”

Tessa smiles. “I have kids, she’ll be fine with me.”

I head for our meeting room, eager to find a way to get the mother of my child back. Church is standing room only and the brothers are angrier than I’ve ever seen.

Jinx is leaning against the wall with his arm strapped to his chest. The grim expression is expected. He won’t be riding out with the rest of us because of his arm. I know he’s upset about that. No brother likes to be grounded during a club-wide emergency. He’s our sergeant-at-arms and will stay and protect the clubhouse.

I connect my computer to the large screen at the front of the chapel. “This is the van that took them.” Security footage from the spa fills the screen. Several brothers curse when the side door opens and the first man climbs out.

When I freeze the recording, Jinx pushes away from the wall. “I’ve seen this asshole before.”

“We all have.” I open the folder containing the image Jinx took at Ninth and Foster all those weeks ago. “This is the image of Beth’s stalker, the one who drove the gray Silverado. We’ve been canvassin’ the area lookin’ for him.”

“So, they did come for Beth,” Jasper grits out.

Rock speaks up, “They also came for our club. That’s why they took Queenie. This is retaliation for killin’ Keene.”

Every head in the room turns to look at Rock. And I have to admit that he could very well be right about that.

“Son of a bitch,” Jasper curses under his breath. “What else do you have for us, Striker?”

I pull up close-up images of the other four men. Before I can explain, Slate speaks, “I know this fucker.”