Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Binx weaved between our legs again, purring loudly. This time, Chains didn’t flinch. “My niece, Larissa, had a cat,” he said suddenly, his voice low. “Not black. Orange tabby. Called him Lucky.” I held my breath, afraid to break the spell of this rare moment of openness. “She was six when she got sick with leukemia. Larissa had this thing. Every time she went in for treatment, she’d cross her fingers. Said it was for good luck.” I set down my piping bag, turning to face him fully. “When things got real bad, one finger wasn’t enough. She’d cross all of them, both hands. Like maybe if she just had enough luck…” He trailed off, staring at the counter.
“Chains,” I whispered, unsure what to say.
“She collected lucky things. Four leaf clovers. Lucky pennies. That damn cat.” A small, sad smile touched his lips. “But luck ran out. And, as you say, the universe decided someone or something needed her worse than I did.”
My heart ached for him, for the little girl he’d obviously loved. I reached for his hands, taking them in mine. His fingers were warm, calloused, so much larger than mine. It pained me to think how helpless he must have felt when he couldn’t save his niece. Quite the contrast with his physical strength.
“It wasn’t about luck running out,” I said gently. “It was about having hope. Something to believe in when everything else was falling apart.”
His eyes met mine, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before. “Don’t matter what you call it. She still died.”
I squeezed his hands. “And you’re still carrying her with you. That’s beautiful. And how you know there will always be a part of her alive in your heart. She made her mark in the world. On you.”
For a moment, I thought he might pull away, retreat behind his walls. Instead, he turned his hands in mine, interlacing our fingers. “She would’ve liked you,” he said roughly. “Your Halloween obsession, your weird-ass cats. All of it.”
The door swung open again, this time revealing Riot with Hawk, again, close behind. “Fuckin’ cookies again?” Riot groaned, but his hand was already reaching for one. “This place smells like a Goddamn Yankee Candle store threw up.”
“You love it,” I countered.
“Me and Violet both love you, little witch.” Riot planted a quick kiss on my temple, snagging two more cookies before Hawk could stop him. “Just because you forgot to get Carrie a cupcake before Ellie ran you off does not mean I’m forgetting my woman.”
“You’re not taking that to Violet.” Knuckles smirked as he took a bite of a cookie. “You’re gonna eat it yourself. You’re using Violet as an excuse to get extra when you know Violet gets all she wants from Ellie. All the women do.”
Riot didn’t even look ashamed, smiling as he took a bite of his cookie.
“Leave some for the kids, asshole,” Knuckles said, but he too bent to kiss my cheek before grabbing a cupcake. “Looking good, Ellie. Fair warnin’. Caleb’s on the way down. Kid said somethin’ about gingerbread bars.” Knuckles scanned the counter until he saw the cookie in question. A gingerbread cookie mashed into a baking dish, baked, then covered in a cream cheese frosting and sliced. His eyes got big and the man actually gave a satisfied smile. As he snagged two.
“Knuckles!” I laughed as I scolded his retreating form. A couple more club members visited with similar results, taking half a dozen treats with them. I noticed Chains watching the interaction, something unreadable in his expression.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he said, but then added, “They care about you. Already.”
“I care about them too.” I smiled back at him before returning to my piping, adding little frosting cobwebs to the cupcakes. “I’ve never really had a family like this before. People who just, I don’t know, accept. Everyone. The way they are.”
“We’re all different, baby. We spent enough time in prison being forced away from our differences. You stick to your own kind in there if you want to survive. In here?” He shrugged. “All that matters is loyalty to each other. We’re a family. All of us, Ellie. With me or not, our family includes you now. And our differences make us stronger.” Chains reached out, brushing flour from my cheek with his thumb in a gesture so tender it made my breath catch. “Your difference is the joy you bring to all of us. Right along with all our women. You belong here, Ellie.”
Family. It could feel like this. It could feel like home. Maybe it already did.
The last batch of spider cookies came out of the oven just as the afternoon sun hit that perfect golden hour. Chains suggested we take a break outside, and I gratefully followed him through the compound’s camo-netting-covered pathways to a small garden tucked between two warehouses. The space was unexpectedly beautiful, with wrought-iron benches nestled among rust-colored mums and carved gourds. Fallen leaves crunched beneath our boots, and the air carried that distinct autumn crispness that always made me feel alive.