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to live. I might’ve missed some of it without him. I needed to figure out how to…” I shake my head, trying to find the words. “How to undo the deep scars I got from the bastard who raised me. Your dad didn’t tell me how to live or how to handle my problems, but he did let me watch. And he let me participate in your life.” I take a breath. “Anyway, Emma and Cally are my family now.”
    Silence hangs between us. Ryan works his jaw back and forth. “I had no idea.”
    “Why would you?”
    His forehead furrows. “I just thought Pops was a prick… maybe? Shit.”
    “Don’t try to figure it out. The bastard isn’t worth it.”
    Ryan’s voice is low. “God, man. I’m sorry.” He concentrates on me, and an earnest confidence crosses his face. “Families make mistakes. They walk away. They come back.” His eyes narrow. “And blood doesn’t make a family.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Grayson
     
    As if those were the words I needed to hear, the weight of guilt recedes. Blood doesn’t make a family, and I’ve known that my whole life but never realized it. “Are we good?”
    Ryan throws his hand out. “Yeah.”
    That’s all that needs saying. We shake on it. “Alright then.”
    He dips his head, nodding toward the open room where Jared and Brock are chatting with Emma. “You good to go back out?”
    It’s my turn to nod. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
    I take a deep breath and head down the hall. I’ve said it a dozen times—I hate strip clubs because they remind me of Pops—but right now, I want out of here for different reasons. I’m exhausted and more emotional than I’ll ever admit out loud. And I really fucking need Emma’s body against mine. She makes me sane. The simple fact is that I’m meant to survive with her by my side.
    Across the room, Jared and Brock stand up, then Emma. She’s smiling. Both men look pleased, and whatever their questions were, they must’ve asked them the right way. They’re pros. It would’ve been nice to work with a new team. Throwing punches at potential new team members probably means I have no shot at that job, a fact that was confirmed when Delta went to search Emerald’s at Brock’s request, and the order pointedly did not include me. It sucks. But like the way it worked out with Ryan, a new team will happen when it’s meant to happen. I have to believe that my near-complete mental breakdown in this stupid-ass strip club happened so that Ryan and I could move forward. A new job will come when I hunt it down and find it.
    I rub the back of my neck as Sarah comes back from the same hall we just came from. Ryan heads her way, and I miss most of what she says. My focus is intent on Emma.
    Yeah, she’s sweet and gorgeous, but damn, the woman is strong—a survivor. It makes me love her all the more. As she walks over, her eye catches mine, and I get my arms around her as fast as I can. Sliding to the side of the room, she melts against me. Her soft curves press to me as if we’re pieces of a puzzle. “You good, pretty mama?”
    “A lot better.”
    “Good. I want as much distance as possible from here.”
    She turns in my arms, gazing across the stage. “Don’t hate this place or what I did. Emerald’s isn’t who I am. But I am better for it. I’m stronger because I pushed myself.”
    Holy. Shit. I love this woman. “Way to make my asshole mistakes sound like some shitty stepping stone in life.”
    “Ha.”
    Holding her to me, I wave bye to the men standing in the room. “Ready?”
    Her smile curves as she leans back into me, but then she pops onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to get my purse and keys, okay?”
    I squeeze her before letting go. She runs off and grabs her things, saying her goodbyes, and then she’s back in my arms, and I’m dragging her out the door. Fresh near-dawn air hits us. I drink in the cool morning and turn to look at Emerald’s a last time, briefly thinking back to the moment I saw fear in her eyes. Never