Better (Stark Ink Book 2) (15 page)

BOOK: Better (Stark Ink Book 2)
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Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

Dalton, Adam, and Jonah managed to get the tree into the house with no problem, despite its massive size. Dalton crawled underneath to tighten the screws on the stand as Pop and the girls watched. Once he’d managed to crawl out from underneath it, he joined them.

Pop didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to. He clapped Dalton on the shoulder, his eyes glistening. The old man nodded and that was enough for Dalton.

“She would’ve loved it,” declared Ava, always able to say what everyone else only thought. “Should we do the whole thing?” she asked. “Or just the lights?”

“The whole thing,” Pop said firmly. “In case she can see it.”

They carried in all the boxes from the garage, lights, tinsel, ornaments. Zoey started to reach into one, but Dalton held her back with a hand on her shoulder. As she turned to look at him questioningly, he shook his head. “We can’t stay,” he told her.

Zoey frowned. “But the tree…”

He shook his head again, adamant. “They can handle it.”

She stuck out her lower lip. “But Dalton—”

He squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’ve got stuff to do,” he said, turning to gather her coat.

Zoey glared at him as she shrugged it on. “I want to stay.”

“We’ve got stuff to do,” he repeated.

“Like what?” she demanded as he held the front door for her.

Dalton gave a quick wave to Pop and the others as he herded her outside.

“It’s Christmas,” she argued. I want to help decorate and—”

“I don’t want you to get worn out,” he replied.

Zoey planted her feet at the end of the driveway and looked at him sharply. “Dalton, decorating one tree is not going to wear me out!”

“No,” he countered. “One tree won’t. But two…” He gestured to the truck.

Zoey’s eyes followed the motion and she froze.

The second tree was tightly wrapped in the netting and secured to the bed. In case it wasn’t obvious, he said, “It’s not as big as Pop’s, not for our tiny place. But it’s full, no gaps, and I thought you’d like it.”

Her eyes lit up, which was the sole reason Dalton had bought the thing. She squealed and threw herself into his arms. He sighed as he realized how much he missed making her happy. His mouth found her ear and he nuzzled it against the cold. “I’ll never forget how much you love Christmas.”

 

 

Dalton got the tree into the apartment by himself and let Zoey choose which corner of the living room to put it in. By the third re-location he turned to her, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

He hadn’t meant it seriously, but to his surprise she grinned.

“I’m sorry,” she giggled. “I’m picturing you as a lumberjack.” She sighed. “Dressed in flannel, smelling like the great outdoors.”

Dalton abandoned the tree and lunged for her. She squealed, trying to move out of his reach. He caught her around the waist, though. “Come here, woman! Let me show you my log.”

“Ugh!” she cried as she tried to squirm out of his grip. “You’re terrible at this.”

Dalton pulled her back and managed to land a kiss on her protesting lips. Zoey gave up the fight and leaned against him, his hands threading through her hair. Her mouth was warm, inviting.

She moaned and he gently moved her back to the couch. As he laid her down, she whispered, “At least you’re good at this part.”

He knelt on the floor next to her and tugged at her waistband.

She gave a slightly frustrated groan.

His lips brushed her as he said, “It’s alright, baby. Just let me take care of you.” He knew she was too far along now for anything crazy. He dipped his hand into her panties. His fingers combed through her soft curls until he found the tiny button of her clit. As he rubbed it gently, it swelled against the pads of his fingertips.

Zoey grabbed his wrist and tried to push his hand against her more firmly. He peeled her off with a low chuckle. “Greedy,” he said quietly. “Don’t be so impatient.” He kept up the pressure with his thumb as his fingers caressed her damp folds. “You know you’re lucky I’m so damn good with my hands.”

She gasped as he pushed a finger inside her. First one, then another. His cock jerked, impatient too, but he had his whole life for that. Dalton would have her always and in all ways. Every minute with her, no matter what there were doing, was a gift. Zoey would never feel anything but pleasure at his touch.

He fucked her— slow and steady— with his fingers. Not as deep as his cock would have gone, but enough to fill her. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open like an invitation written in red. He sealed his lips over hers and pushed his tongue inside. She sucked it, still greedy.

Zoey always did love a good double stuff.

Her legs scissored, desperate for that much-needed friction that would bring her over the edge.

Dalton slicked her clit good with her juices before pinching it firmly.

She tore her mouth away from his, screaming out her orgasm.

In the few bewildering moments that followed, he wrapped both his arms around her, cradling her into his chest. She panted and clutched at him until she regained her composure and fell back against the couch, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. She smiled dreamily as her fingers pressed against his broad chest.

“Greedy girl,” he admonished with a grin.

“You told your dad I was a
nice
girl,” she protested.

Dalton leaned down and pressed his lips against her ear. “You’re
my
girl, which means you’re both. Whenever I want.”

Her fingers trailed down to his stomach and continued on to the raging erection in his jeans. “Seems like you want it now,” she teased as she tugged.

He groaned. “Don’t start if you can’t finish.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

With one hand she unzipped his fly and with the other she pulled him close. He kissed her again, knowing that was what she wanted. She found her way into his jockey shorts, but could only take half his length in her hand. She knew what he liked, though, and gave his shaft a gentle squeeze before she reached down to cup his sac.

He moaned, gazing at the smile that played across her lips. One day, when she was up for it, he was going to get in there and stay for a good long while. He might cum, too, and watch her swallow everything he gave her. But they’d work back up to that. There was time.

Her fingernails lightly grazed his skin and once more he marveled that she was here, with him. He felt the familiar tingle in his belly that echoed lower, as well. Zoey must have sensed he was close.

“Dalton?” she whispered.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. Startled by it, Zoey let go.

Dalton growled as it sounded again. He stood up, yanking his shirt out of his jeans so it would hang down and cover his hard-on. He stalked to the door, mood darkening. If it was Grant, Dalton would kill the man with his bare hands. If it was Adam, well, Dalton was reasonably confident he could stop short of delivering a death blow to his own sibling.

He checked the peephole and frowned. Grasping the knob, he flung the front door open. The younger man standing on the porch jumped. When he got a look at Dalton’s face, he eased back a little. “Z-Zoey Grant?”

Dalton’s eyes narrowed. “Do I look like a Zoey Grant to you?”

The kid shook his head wildly. “No, no. I mean… is she here?”

At the sound of her own name, Zoey called out, “Dalton?”

The kid looked past Dalton and into the living room. Dalton didn’t like it, so he moved to block the view. The kid was undeterred, though. “Zoey Grant?” he said, louder this time.

“I’m Zoey.”

Dalton glanced over his shoulder to see her getting up off the couch. He turned back to the kid. “What do you want?”

The kid held up a manila envelope. Dalton frowned at it. It was thinner than Grant’s divorce decree. Dalton didn’t know if that was better or worse. As much as Dalton wanted Grant to give up and go away, somehow it didn’t seem as though it would be so easy.

Nothing in Dalton’s life was easy.

As Zoey neared the door, Dalton didn’t make room for her. She had to reach around him to get the envelope. He didn’t care. He didn’t like Grant and he didn’t like this kid, for a hell of a lot more reasons than a ruined orgasm.

The kid cleared his throat nervously, eyes flicking to Dalton and then back to Zoey. “You’ve been served.” He spun and darted off the porch rather than wait for a response.

Dalton watched the kid take off in his car. There seemed to be no one else on the street, though. After making sure it was all clear, he closed the front door and locked it. When he turned, Zoey had the envelope in her hands. She was shaking as she read the contents,. Whether she was afraid or angry, he didn’t know.

He took it from her and scanned it. He didn’t have to read the whole thing to get the gist.

Petition for the Establishment of Paternity
was clear enough.

Dalton sighed. “It’s bullshit. He knows it.”

Zoey shook her head and looked up at him. Tears welled in her eyes. “He’ll never leave us alone, will he? After this, it’ll be something else, then something else after that.” She swiped at her cheeks. “I’ll go to my parents. I’ll sit them down, make them understand. I’ll pay them back.”

“No,” he said, gripping the order so tightly it wrinkled.

If Grant wouldn’t walk away, if he wanted to toy with Zoey, play games with her instead, then fine. Dalton could play games. He’d been damn good at them once upon a time.

He tossed the order on the kitchen counter and scooped up his keys.

“Give me one chance to see if I can fix it.”

Zoey sighed. She looked suddenly tired, beaten down. Dalton’s jaw tightened.

“Dalton.”

He held up a finger. “One chance.”

Her mouth tugged into a frown. “Don’t. Don’t go see him. He’ll—”

“I’m not going to see him,” Dalton insisted. “I’m going to find someone else, okay? I know someone who might be able to help us.”

Her brow wrinkled. “Who?”

Dalton snatched his coat off the chair. “A friend of a friend.”

‘Friend’ was stretching it. And there was a chance that no one could help them.

They needed a Hail Mary. Thankfully, Dalton was no stranger to those.

Chapter Thirty

 

Dalton pulled his truck into the gravel lot and put it in park. Beside him, Adam ducked his head to gaze up at the yellow-tinted sign above their heads. Maria’s flashed down at them, setting the cab of the truck aglow.

Adam drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “I gotta say, D, this is the last place I thought we’d end up when you called.”

Dalton frowned at a pair of roughnecks in cowboy hats shuffling to their trucks. One tossed a beer bottle against the brick wall, shattering it. “Haven’t been here in a while. Still looks as rowdy as ever. I just wanted someone to watch my back while I’m in there. Obviously, I couldn’t ask Jonah.”

Adam leaned back in the seat. “Nah. This place isn’t as bad as you remember. Sullivan and his boys keep it pretty clean.”

Dalton nodded. “I thought they might still hang out here. That’s who we’re here to see.”

Adam scowled. “Uh, D, Sullivan’s top notch and all, but do you really need a sniper to solve your problems? Not that I don’t agree that it’s tempting.”

Dalton shut off the truck’s engine and opened his door. “Not Sullivan. Just one of his guys.”

They reached the front doors and headed inside. The place was pretty busy, even for a weeknight. For the most part, the mix of people was the way Dalton remembered it: cowboys, bikers, and factory workers. It had been a long time since Dalton had been here, though. Long before rehab he’d taken up drinking at home. There had been no one around to cut him off in his living room.

The eponymous blonde bartender clearly remembered him. She eyed him stonily as he passed the bar. He gave Maria a curt nod, but kept walking. She wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Dalton and Adam enter. Shooter and his large Sioux buddy both stood up at the same time, pausing their game of pool. Beyond them, the Badlands Buzzards, Rapid City’s very own one-percenter MC, also spotted them.

Thankfully, the Starks had paid their debt— and then some— plus Shooter and his boys stood between them.

The former Army lieutenant set down his cue and took a few steps forward. He jerked his chin toward the bikers in the corner. “You know I’ll keep them off your back, but I’d prefer you don’t actually go looking for trouble. At least not in here.” He paused. “Unless… you already found it.”

Dalton shook his head. “No. Well, yeah. I’ve got some trouble, but not with them. I’m looking for a friend of yours.”

Shooter’s eyes narrowed. “Which one? And don’t say the big one because he’s still sore at your brother there.” He jabbed a finger at Adam. “And if your brother and my brother go at it, we’ve all got problems.”

“No. Not him,” Dalton clarified as he scanned the booths. “Him.”

Shooter followed his gaze, then grunted. “Fair enough,” he said as he stepped out of the way.

As Dalton and Adam moved past him, Adam said quietly, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“More or less,” Dalton replied.

They stopped at a table occupied by a man and a woman. Both had dark hair, both had on leather jackets. Surprisingly, both looked menacing.

“Barnes,” said Dalton to the man seated in front of him.

They didn’t really know each other, not personally, but Rapid City wasn’t that large. Doc Barnes was a cop, or used to be, and he knew Adam, at least.

Barnes looked up from his beer. Recognition set in despite the lack of a formal introduction. “Stark?”

Dalton looked at the two of them. “Got a minute?”

Barnes raised an eyebrow. “We do. But it looks like you might need more than a minute.” He nodded to the woman and she made room for Dalton on her side of the booth. Barnes gave Adam some space on his end.

As Dalton slid in, the woman gave him a once-over. “I’m Izzy.”

“Dalton Stark.”

“The drunk.”

Barnes sighed. “Baby, don’t start a bar fight. It’s not even midnight.”

“It’s true enough,” Dalton said. “But I’m an ex-drunk.”

She eyed him skeptically. “You’re in a bar.”

“Looking for you,” Dalton pointed out. “On the subject of exes, my woman and I are back together, but there’s a hitch.”

Adam snorted. “He means
she’s
hitched.”

Dalton shot him a look.

Adam held up his hands. “Just telling it like it is.”

Dalton took a deep breath and turned back to Barnes. “She’s technically still married, yeah, but it’s all over except for the paperwork, which he’s trying to strong-arm her into signing.”

Izzy snorted. “Divorces are kind of what we’re hoping to avoid. Hire a lawyer.”

Dalton shook his head. “I don’t need a lawyer, I need you.” He reached into his pocket and brought out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times and then handed it to Izzy.

She frowned at it for a long moment before passing it to Barnes.

Dalton kept his voice low. “Wasn’t the first time, but it’s for damn sure the last. Photo’s not worth much, though, without a police report to go with it, which she didn’t want to make.”

Barnes snorted and handed back the phone. “It’s not worth much
with
a report. Especially not in this town.”

Dalton nodded. “I’ve managed to hold him off so far, but it’s not going to be long before he figures out the photo is basically worthless. By the time that happens, I need something— anything— you can get on him. Anything that’ll stick. Right now he’s burying her in paperwork. Divorce, plus a paternity test order.”

Barnes raised the same eyebrow.

Dalton “He says he thinks I’m the kid’s father.”

Barnes gave Dalton a hard look. “Any truth to that?”

“No,” Dalton replied firmly. “He’s just being an asshole. He knows that’s not what I meant. I said he threw them away and they were mine now, but he knows goddamn good and well that I never laid a hand on Zoey after she left me. I never even saw her again until she ran away from him. She was already seven months pregnant by then. He’s just trying to fuck with her, make everything harder. She wants to leave, but he’s not letting her go.”

“Why not? If a guy like you is willing to fight for her, seems like he’d be smart to walk away.”

Dalton sighed. “Money. Zoey’s parents have some and I suspect he’s flat fucking broke. Basically he wants her to pay him to disappear.”

Izzy snorted. “This guy sounds like a real winner.”

Dalton nodded. “Well, believe me, I’m getting the feeling I should have broken his hand so he couldn’t hold it out.”

Barnes didn’t seem put off by the remark. Dalton had heard stories about the man over the years, now he suspected they might be true.

“Tricky,” Barnes replied. “They’re still married and there’s the kid to consider. Plus, with you out of the picture…”

“That’s the only reason I haven’t tracked him down. If I go to jail, it’s just Adam and Jonah left to protect them. I won’t have that. Zoey and the baby need to be with me. They need to be safe. We need this shit to
end
. Even though Zoey’s parents aren’t my favorite people, they shouldn’t have to shell out any cash to this guy. He doesn’t deserve jack shit.”

Dalton reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. He set it down on the table between them. “This is what I have. I asked around about your rates. It should be enough for a background check… plus a little extra digging.”

Dalton wasn’t certain exactly how this was supposed to work. Barnes was an ex-cop, but the way Dalton had heard it, the man didn’t exactly go by the book even when he’d worn the badge. Barnes and his girlfriend had a reputation for doing what needed to be done even though Dalton never saw a thing about it in the newspapers afterward. He guessed that Barnes’ old police force connections kept them under the radar. He felt certain, though, that this man knew exactly what Dalton meant and what he needed to get Grant off their backs and out of their lives permanently.

Barnes picked up the envelope and lifted the flap. He took out approximately half the bills and slid it back to Dalton.

“Half-off for wife beaters,” Izzy said with a wicked grin. “We’re running a special.”

Barnes stuffed the stack of bills into his jacket. “If there’s anything to find, I’ll get it,” he told Dalton. “But you need to be prepared. There may be nothing.”

Dalton’s jaw twitched. “There’s something, I’m sure of it. It doesn’t add up at all, they’re broke, but he has a new car. He has cash, but makes her use plastic. I don’t know where he’s getting the money or where it’s going, but my gut tells me it’s not legit.”

The man nodded and took a long pull of his beer. “It’s a good place to start.”

For the first time since Zoey had come back into his life, Dalton felt a glimmer of hope.

BOOK: Better (Stark Ink Book 2)
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