Page 53 of Cold As Ice

Standing there in the back part of the clubhouse, I smiled at all the little kids that were running around, remembering how I had gotten here sixteen years ago.

Things had sure changed in all those years, but one thing hadn’t. And that was how the club girls would go after the men and didn’t care if they were taken or not.

And as I stood there and watched one in particular sidle up to my man, I didn’t even move from my spot.

Because as soon as she reached a hand out to touch him, he stepped back and then pointed to where I was standing, and started my way.

I watched as the girl pouted, which had me laughing softly, and then she started to follow him but was stopped by my daughter who said, rather loudly, “That’s my dad, whore. My dad, who happens to love my mother with everything in him. So much so that he even offered to get her name tattooed on his forehead so bitches like you would know to leave him the fuck alone. Now, this is the second time you’ve been warned. You try it again and nobody will hold my mother back from beating the dog shit out of you. And trust me, you don’t want that, just ask Cortney over there when she tried to sit in his lap when I was nine years old. And in case you missed it, my mother used to be a club girl, too. Let that settle in.” I watched as my girl had my back and when Carmella heard I used to be a club girl too, she nodded and backed away.

That night I lay in our bed while our kids stayed at the clubhouse to have a Top Gun marathon in the new media room Asher had built. Knowing they were safe, I curled my body further into my husband's and smiled.

Because when I did that, he muttered in his sleep, “Love you, darlin’.”

And then my husband started sawing logs with his snoring.

Laughing softly, I closed my eyes and thanked my lucky stars for the life I have.

My kids had a family that, in case anything ever happened to us, they would be taken care of.

I had a thriving online business doing embroidery work and sewing, which I loved.

We also had the help of the Mexican cartel should we ever need it, thanks to my father, who had spent the last sixteen years making up the time that was lost with me and our kids.

Oh, and the promise that Pipe had offered to make right? He did that when he called my father while we were on our honeymoon.

The other one with my mother? Well, he left her alone. He only had Charlie hack into her and her husband’s accounts and send their money to charity. The rightful charity where they said their money was going, but wasn’t. They were arrested on embezzlement charges, and I can neither confirm nor deny if my father played a hand in the two of them being shanked in the yard and bleeding out.

Moral of the story, karma is a bitch. It can either kick your ass seven ways to Sunday or it can reward you with the greatest treasures of life.

Like me.

And this was the story of how a club girl got her happily ever after with a man she never saw coming.

One who loved her unconditionally.

And one that, with the help from her, let down those walls around his heart and allowed her to slip on in while she turned his heart from a block of ice into something to be revered.

The End.