Eternal Temptations (The Tempted Series Book 6) (30 page)

I was five years old; it was my first time riding my brand new bike, the one with the pretty pink basket on the front and the little bell I pretended was a horn. You remember the one, don’t you? It was my first bike without training wheels and you couldn’t wait to teach me how to ride it. With a steady hand, you guided me, balanced me until I got the hang of it and then, and only then, did you let go. I flew down the block, listening to your laughter fade behind me.

I did it! I rode a two-wheeler. All thanks to you.

The next day, I fell off my bike and broke my arm. You met me and Mom at the hospital just in time for the doctor to tell us it was broken and needed a cast for six weeks. I remember being scared, so scared but then you held my good hand as they fitted the cast and promised everything would be okay. You were the first person to sign my cast and I still remember the stick figures meant to resemble you and me that you drew.

I was eight years old, and it was my First Holy Communion. You and Mommy threw me this huge party, and it was the first time you and I ever danced to ‘Daddy’s Little Girl’. The dance started off with me standing on top of your loafers and ended with me in your arms.

Do you know how many times I’ve caught you playing that video over and over? Always rewinding the tape after the song is over to watch it again. I lost count how many times but it was many.

I was eleven years old, and we went to Saratoga for the summer. You took me to the track and showed me the racing form and let me pick the horse in the fourth race. Native Dancer came in first and you won a whole lot of money. I don’t remember how much but you gave me a cut and told me not to tell Mommy.

We went to the track a lot after that and I grew to love horse racing. I don’t know if it was the thrill of winning or the thrill of spending time with you.

I was thirteen when you took me on my first date. I didn’t know it was a date at the time. I thought it was just one of our typical father-daughter dinners. You remember those don’t you? The nights you would take me to Villa Pasquette restaurant and had the owners Gino and Maria serenade me at the table. Anyway back to the date, I was thirteen and instead of going to dinner with my father I wanted to hang out with my friends. I didn’t want to go, but you insisted I did and promised it would be the last time.

After work you picked me up and handed me a bouquet of flowers. I looked at you like you were crazy but then you told me, “Remember, Adrianna, a good man will always try to remember the little details.”

That night you tried to teach me what I should expect from a boy. You told me to set my standards high and never allow a boy to disrespect me. “To some you’ll just be a girl, but to one you’ll be the world.”

I didn’t need for you to show me how a woman deserved to be treated because for thirteen years I watched you treat my mother with the utmost respect. And long before that last dinner we had at Villa Pasquette, I knew I wanted to walk in my mother’s shoes one day. I wanted the man I married to look at me, treat me and love me just the way you loved my mom.

Even now, at twenty-nine, married to the love of my life and two kids—you and Mom’s story is still my favorite one ever written. Thank you for loving my mom.

I was fifteen, almost sixteen and learning how to drive. I had taken lessons, but I was still nervous about failing my upcoming road test. You had a Lincoln at the time, a navy blue one to be exact, and you didn’t even let Mommy drive it. But you let me drive it. You took me out every Sunday morning for thirteen weeks, showed me how to parallel park, how to pop a U-turn and when I told you I was afraid of the highway, you tricked me into driving straight onto the Belt Parkway and over the Verrazano bridge. I passed my road test thanks to you. Thank you for teaching me to face my fears.

It was my sweet Sixteen, and we were on our way to the catering hall when you pulled out a tiny velvet box and gave me a pair of diamond hoop earrings. I had wanted them so badly and I remember you telling me in the limo “I never disappointed you yet and I’m not about to now.”

I cherished those earrings. Still do and when Victoria is sixteen, I will pass them down to her.

Even when things got tricky for us, and I started to date Anthony, the dynamic between us, that incredible bond a daughter only has with her father, well, it shined through, allowing us to still build great memories.

Like the subway series tickets, you surprised me with. You wore your Mets gear, and I wore my Yankee gear, we ate hotdogs and rooted for our separate teams, never truly allowing our differences outweigh the bond we created throughout the years.

And differences we had.

I wish we would’ve done things differently. I wish you would’ve talked to me about how you were feeling instead of acting out of fear. I wish you would’ve remembered that before everything, my first role in life was your daughter and I’d always be your girl.

The years Anthony served in jail, I wish I would’ve been courageous enough to tell you how much I missed you. I wish I would’ve found the strength to tell you how much I needed one more memory. Maybe a trip to the racetrack would’ve reminded us of all the memories we made and the ones we still had to make.

We lost three years of our bond to fear and resentment when all we needed to do was be honest with one another.

If you would’ve come to me, I would’ve told you all the things I am now about to say.

I will always be your little girl.

I took your advice and found a man who always remembers the little details.

A man who is a lot like you.

I found someone to live up to the great man that is my dad.

And to him I am his whole world.

I found that one person just like you said I would.

And I am now Anthony’s wife.

I am a mother to two amazing children.

But at the end of the day I am also your daughter.

I will always be your daughter and you will always be my father. The man who taught me to expect greatness, to never settle for less than I deserve and to conquer my fears.

Three great lessons that I will teach my children.

But there is one lesson I’d like to teach you and that is to know life may end but love doesn’t. I’ll always love you, Dad. I’ll think of you every time I drive pass the boarded up restaurant we used to go to. I’ll think about you whenever I wear the earrings you bought me. I’ll smile as I speed down the Belt Parkway and imagine you’re right beside me in the passenger seat and when the Belmont stakes come around, I’ll always bet the fourth race.

I’ll miss you.

But you’ll always be in my heart.

Thank you for loving me.

Love Always,

Your Little Girl

There used to be a time when partying entailed a clubhouse full of whores, a never ending supply of booze and a brick of the finest weed. A time when the only things the Satan’s Knights MC knew was mayhem and grief, blood and death. The days when their president lived for the darkness and craved a little bit of light. The days before I found my Sunshine.

We used to live only to ride, party and fuck, but now some of us, myself included, have found there is more to life than a clubhouse full of cheap pussy. We found our heart, and passing blunts around isn’t as appealing as it used to be. I love my club, still live to ride, but I’ve got a woman to go home to night after night and her pussy is the only one I crave. In fact, as I stare at the menu the only thing I’ve got an appetite for is Sunshine, not a porterhouse at some swanky restaurant in the city.

It was Wolf’s idea, a night on the town to celebrate Stryker’s homecoming, and though I’d rather be in bed with Reina wrapped around me, I have to agree with my bat-shit crazy brother, Wolf, Stryker deserves a night out. He probably needs more than a steak though, poor bastard spent eight months in Rikers, more than double the time he was sent in there for, all because he kept getting his ass thrown in the hole. Don’t know much about any of the nomads but it’s obvious our boy Stryker has a temper.

Closing my menu, I reach for my drink and try to pay attention to the conversation. Wolf has gone all out, setting us up in a private room at Smith and Wollensky’s steakhouse and everyone has made it their business to show up. It was like we had moved church to the overpriced joint, taking our respective seats around Wollensky’s table just as we do at my table, and as usual the conversation turns to Pipe’s wife’s tits.

“A fake rack never did it for me,” I chime in, lifting my beer bottle to my lips before pausing to point a finger at Blackie. “If you put your two cents into this conversation, I might shoot you.”

Leaning back against his chair, Blackie shakes his head and tries to hide the grin spreading across his face—bastard.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the man of the hour,” Blackie announces as his eyes zero in on a Wolf and Stryker as they walk into the room.

“And his party planner,” Riggs notes, raising an eyebrow toward Wolf as he glances around the room. “Fancy place, Wolf.”

“You’re used to fancy aren’t you, Richie Rich?” Pipe quips. He’s relentless with the rich boy jokes, especially after Riggs brought it to our attention that the oil diggers are in town looking to make nice with their boy.

I stand from my chair at the head of the table and walk over to Stryker.

“Welcome home, brother,” I say, glancing toward the waiter standing in the doorway. “Get this motherfucker the finest bottle of whiskey,” I demand, wrapping an arm around Stryker’s shoulders.

“Thanks, Prez,” he says as I lead him toward the table. As he stands as still as a soldier, Blackie pushes his chair back and rises to his feet to greet his former cellmate. He sizes him up before tipping his chin and biting his cheek.

“How’s the nose?”

Stryker shrugs his shoulders, taking the glass the waiter offered and knocks back the shot before peering at Blackie. As per my orders, Blackie staged a fight with Stryker, broke his nose and got his ass carted to Otisville where Vic was waiting for him. Yeah, I owed Stryker big time.

“It’s good, gives me character,” he replies.

Blackie smirks and wraps an arm around Stryker’s shoulders just as I had.

“Thank you,” he says, his face growing serious. “Appreciate what you did,” he adds.

“No sweat,” Stryker shrugs, pulling up a chair at the table. “I needed the fucking vacation.”

“Yo, bro, we’ve missed your ass,” Linc calls from across the table.

“You missed him hustling pool,” Deuce states. “Kid’s broke.”

“Kiss my ass, Deucey,” Linc replies, before turning his attention back to Stryker. “They have a table outside if you feel like making a quick buck,” he antagonizes.

“Fuck pool,” Wolf says, opening his menu. “I’ve got this room for the next four hours.”

“You really went all out,” Pipe proclaims as he butters a piece of bread. “I hear The Knot is hiring if you’re looking to hang up your cut and plan weddings and shit.”

I chuckle, reaching for my beer, finishing it and signaling the waiter for another.

“Fuck you,” Wolf hisses. “You should thank me, if it was up to the rest of these clowns we’d be having cherry pie and fake beer while Blackie and Lacey play footsies under the goddamn table.” He points his finger toward Riggs, “And this guy would chase his kitty all over the fucking place.”

Wolf drapes an arm around Stryker and reaches for the whiskey again. “Don’t you worry, man, Uncle Wolf knows how to throw a party. Part of the reason I reserved the room for four hours was because the girls are due to arrive soon.”

“What girls?” Blackie asks.

“My man, Stryker has seen nothing but dick for months. Got him some top notch girls. The pussy on tonight’s menu is as prime as the cuts of beef are. You are all pussy whipped fools,” Wolf mutters, throwing his other arm around Linc. “Not us. Shit, we ain’t going down like that, right boys?”

“Fuck no,” Linc agrees.

“Yeah,” Stryker mutters, refilling his glass.

I laughed to myself, recalling a time when I said those exact words. It takes just one woman to make you eat those fucking words. I can’t wait to watch the other half of this table chow down on them.