The Devil's Honey

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-ONE
⛓️Xavier⛓️

"Ew, it's hot here," Ayla grumbles, running on no sleep on the whole nine-hour flight to Nice, where my son and daughter-in-law now live. Refusing to sleep, my daughter thought it would be a good idea to yap my whole ear off for the entire flight, and now she's paying for it because she's half asleep in my arms.

The one thing she wouldn't shut up about was seeing a man back in New York riding down a busy street on a Harley. We had stopped besides, what I assume was a man part of an MC, at a red light. My fearless little girl had put down her window, stuck her head out of it, and stared at the bike with wide eyes. Poor Summer was frightened out of her mind when she saw her little friend's actions.

The man had lifted his visor, and despite not seeing the rest of his face, he was smiling at my little girl who was more interested in his bike. The lines by his eyes creased and he chuckled when Ayla asked him for the price of the bike, stating that I would apparently pay for it.

He told her it wasn't for sale and that again, I would buy her one in the future. Will I now? She waved at him to the point I was worried she was going to dislocate her arm and watched him speed off into the sunset.

Now I'm all for my little girl being interested in cars and motorcycles, but God forbid she ends up falling in love with one of those bikers. That would send me into an early grave, that's for sure. I've dealt with a few of them in my lifetime and coming from myself, a lot of them are ruthless. Although they keep themselves to themselves, I've seen what happens when you fuck with them in the wrong way and trust me, it ain't good. I would know.

I have already mentally prepared myself for Ayla to be trouble the older she gets. She's a good girl, don't get me wrong, but she has no filter. Thoughts of her causing trouble outside a Biker Motorcycle club just because she touched a motherfucker's bike, or something leaves a foul taste in my mouth. I do not want to have to retrieve her from a place like that. And if I did, I would prefer for her to be alive when I do.

"When are you going to get me a bike?" She questions me for the tenth time since we've landed. "I want a pink one."

"I saw a nice little princess bike in a shop just now." It was a tricycle with fluffy pom-poms on the handlebars. "Now will you stop talking about motorcycles?"

"Ten dollars."

"I've only got euros."

Her face scrunches. "No. Can we get a doggy?"

"No. You've already got two fucking cats. Plus, your brother has a dog." I mentally scold myself for swearing.

"That has to go toward the swear jar now." Ayla points out, and I roll my eyes, thankful that Hendrix's home is coming into view, so I can hand her off to him for a bit. "Mama says the money in the swear jar is going toward college."

"Princess, with the way you keep bribing me for money, I'm sure you'll be able to fund college yourself." I point out, pulling a curl that's stuck in her mouth that she seems to be chewing on. I grimace as I pull out the wet curl. "Stop doing that."

"Well, as you've said you're not buying me a motorcycle, that money will have to go towards that." I chuckle and she scowls at me. "Why are you laughing?"

"You've got a lot to save, my sweet girl." I pinch her cheeks and leave her to continue scowling at me. I'm pretty sure I hear her mumbling that she will steal my wallet.

The front door to Hendrix and Mila's home opens wide and I notice how quiet Ayla gets as she stares at her big brother for the first time.

"Son." I greet.