Chapter 2

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Being a naturally early riser didn't mean anything when Amelia didn't actually fall asleep until almost sunup anyway. When she blinked her eyes open she gasped and curled up in a ball before realizing she was home and relaxing back against the cushions. The house was still quiet, eerily so, and Amelia figured Tig was still sleeping one off. Kicking off the blanket she sat up and rubbed her eyes, smearing black eyeliner around her face without a care.

When she left the living room she was greeted by her father, in nothing but his boxers, with his gun trained right on her chest. "Jesus, Dad, it's me!" Her hands flew above her head as she looked at him, it took the man a minute to realize that the shadowy figure tiptoeing around his house was his daughter.

"Meely, my little girl!" He crushed her in his arms, gun still in hand, but she kept trying to wriggle out of his grip.

"Awkward Dad, put some damn clothes on."

He laughed gruffly and grabbed something, most likely dirty, from the laundry basket by the bottom of the steps to throw on. "I almost blew your pretty little head off." He ruffled her hair as he looked her over for obvious injury, the fiery red color was an unlikely gift from her mother while the curls were a Trager trait. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

She ignored his question at first knowing it would send her into an emotional outburst. "Can I have another hug now that you're decent?" She sniffled, walking closer to her and without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and she immediately began to cry. "You were right, he was a deadbeat asshole. I want to come home." Allowing her to cry he held her and made no attempt to soothe or quiet her. Tig absolutely hated hearing and seeing her so very upset but it was clearly something she'd been holding in and building up for quite some time. It didn't matter how absent he'd been or how far she'd run, he was her father and her pain hurt him in a very profound way.

"Did he hurt you, Amelia?" Tig asked as she calmed and her tears slowed. "Tell me the truth. What happened?"

"He just hurt my heart," she said softly. "And my pride. I only went there to be with him so when I left him, I left Denver too."

"Oh baby," he kissed her forehead. "I'm so sorry." He spotted her bags by the front door and smiled to himself, she was planning on staying. "I'm glad you're back though. You're home now, you don't have to worry about anything. I want you to stay here until you get on your feet and get a job."

That was already her plan, Amelia had to doubt he'd offer but it was nice not to have to ask. "Thank you. It looks like you might need a little help with upkeep anyway." Her nose wrinkled as she looked around in the daylight to see it was even messier than she first thought.

"I'll put you to work later." He grabbed his keys and headed toward the door, dirty clothes and all. "Come on, let me take you to breakfast at Hanna's like when you were little." She cringed and shook her head. There was no way she was leaving the house looking like such a mess. After forcing him to shower and change she got herself ready and then they went off to breakfast.

Amelia hadn't been on a Harley in years and although riding with her father was different in every way than when she rode with the younger set she still loved it. It was in her blood, she figured as she popped off and led him into Hanna's. It hadn't changed over the years she'd been gone but nothing in Charming ever really did. They ate and caught up, both holding back some shameful, violent and dark secrets, before he convinced her to come around to the clubhouse.

"I'm telling you, everyone misses you. It'll be great."

She scoffed and laughed as he draped his arm over her shoulders. "Dad, we both know I was no angel but I'm not that girl anymore. I've grown up and now I'm just looking for some...happiness, I guess."

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