Jack was kneeling on a barstool next to Harlowe as she kneaded a loaf of cranberry wheat bread. In front of him was a small ball of dough, the boy mimicking her movements as best as he could. She smirked as his bit his lip in concentration while he worked, his tongue poking out the corner.
The pair had spent all morning together at the bakery. She showed him all kinds of desserts and then decided he might like to make something. When she'd asked him what he would like to bake, he'd instantly said bread. He liked the braided loaves featured in the window and wanted to learn how they were made.
"Okay." She announced, patting the soft dough. "Now we cut this guy into three equal parts."
"Kay." Jack nodded along while leaning over to watch her expertly section the dough for braiding.
"Then we roll 'em into long ropes. Like this." Her hands moved efficiently as the dough stretched out. "We twist the ends together and start braiding."
The boy oohed and awed as she nimbly wove the dough into an intricate knot.
"Tada!" She announced as she swiped a milk wash over the top and placed it on a baking sheet for the oven.
"How long til we can eat it?" Jack asked as he stood on his toes to watch it slid into the oven.
"It needs to bake for an hour. We can eat another one if your hungry?"
"Nope." He shook his head as he helped her clean up. "I want that one."
"Okay."
"Lowe?" Jack's tentative voice brought her eyes back from the flour covered counter top, his tone sounding hesitant.
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"What happened to your finger?"
Harlowe glanced down at her left hand, the pinkie ending prematurely at the first joint.
"Oh." She paused having never needed to explain the missing digit, everyone in the club just knew how she lost it. The urge to lie was instantaneous, Harlowe driven with the need to protect him from the ugly in the world. In a split second decision she replied with, "someone hurt me."
Jack scowled thoughtfully. "Why?"
"I don't know." Harlowe didn't think he needed the reason but hoped that revealing a little might encourage him to share as well.
"Did it hurt?"
"yeah it did, but it's all better. I don't even miss it." Harlowe smiled sadly. She may have gotten used to it, but a day didn't go by that she didn't remember what it felt like when the metal jaws of a pair of pipe cutters snapped her bones. She still felt the tingle of the missing joint and on cold wet days, it ached.
Jack poked at his dough a moment before looking up at Harlowe with a scowl. "Someone hurt me too."
The words had her hands freezing in mid swipe of the countertop, her eyes rising to the stoic boy.
"You wanna tell me about it?" She asked while leaning against the edge of the butcher block for support. They were aware he hadn't been in the best of situations, his bruises and poor health, the most obvious signs of abuse. His habit of being small and constantly aware of his surroundings was another.
His shoulders rolled a bit, the motion a similar shrug her old man had done a million times before. "Just... the other kids didn't like me."
"At the foster home?"
"Yeah."
"What happened?"
She watched him frown, his fingers digging into the dough ball. "Robbie shoved me down the stairs. He knew..." Jack's words trailed off with his hesitation to share.
"Knew what?"
"That I..." he huffed a breath out his nose, a frustrated sound in the back of his throat. "I was scared of the basement."
"Oh." Harlowe murmured, leaning forward on the counter to meet his eyes. "Did you tell your foster parents?"
Jack's lips pulled downward as he repeated what had obviously been said to him when he told them. "Only pussy's are scared of the dark."
A prickly heat spread across her skin as anger seemed to fill every cell in her being. She wanted to find the poor excuse of a human and help Happy bury them in the desert.
"It's okay to be scared of the dark."
"I'm not." Jack pushed his overworked dough to the side. "It's not that."
"What is it then?"
The little boy slowly looked up at her and muttered, "I didn't want to get locked in."
"That happened before?"
"At mom's." Jack explained, "When she had friends over, I had to go in the closet. She said the lock kept me safe but I didn't like it."
"I'm sorry that happened to you." Harlowe replied through the lump developing in her throat.
"Me too." Jack's finger brushed across her blunt knuckle.
"I'm okay now and it's safe here." Harlowe assured him, her hand turning over to squeeze his. "You'll be okay here too. Plus we don't have a basement."
Jack's lip curled a bit, his eyes rising to hers. "How long til the breads done?"
"A while, how about we sample every cookie we make to find your favorite?"
"Okay."
Harlowe rubbed his buzzcut head affectionately. "Okay."
"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" Happy rasped, his hand following the curve of Harlowe's nude back while she lay across his chest. The tension that made its way down her spine had him regretting even bringing it up.
They'd had a relaxing evening, Jack more talkative than normal as he bragged about all the things the pair had done that day. He announced his favorite cookie was the double double chocolate chip, which happened to be Happy's as well.
It was a good evening together as family, but Happy had noticed the tightness in Harlowe's smile and distance in her eyes. She was brooding on something and he'd held himself back from asking all night.
"He talked to me." She finally murmured, her hand pressed flat over his heart.
"Yeah, me too. I know every cookie and cake by heart now." He rasped knowing she meant something else entirely. He wanted to hold onto the lightness in his chest.
"About his foster home and his mom."
Happy's hand stopped between her shoulder blades, his fingers wide as he felt her vibrate with a growl of frustration.
"If I tell you-."
"There's no if, Lowe. What'd he say."
"The bruises are from another kid in the house. Pushed him down the basement stairs. Little asshole." Harlowe scowled as she thought about what she would do to the bully if she met him.
"You get names."
"What're you gonna do, Hap? Off some thirteen year old?"
"Yes."
Harlowe rolled her eyes and poked him in the chest. "Stop."
"What else he say, you've been all wound up tonight."
"The foster parents didn't sound any better but he didn't say anything specific." Harlowe chewed her lip before continuing. "He said his mom used to lock him in a closet when she had friends over."
"What?" Happy's voice was the coldest version of itself, the rough crack of it like the strike of flint lighting a raging inferno.
"He's scared of getting locked inside places, getting trapped. The kid did it because he knew Jack was scared."
"You tryin' to convince me to take him out?"
"Babe."
Happy took in a slow breath, Harlowe rising with the deep calming inhale he released before he spoke again. "He okay after talking about it?"
"Yeah."
"How'd you get him to talk?"
"He asked what happened to my finger."
"Oh."
"I told him someone hurt me but that I was okay now."
"You tell him I took care of it?"
"No I wasn't trying to scare the kid. I just thought if I talked first, maybe he'd follow."
"You're a good mama." He grinned as she huffed out a breath, her cheeks flushing slightly. Happy pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing the shortened finger. "You are."
"I don't know what I'm doing." She sighed, thumping her forehead against his chest.
"You ain't alone." Happy rasped, his fingers curling into her hair sending chills down her back. "Half the time I'm thinking about how I'm gonna fuck up, while the other half I'm thinking how I'll kill anybody who lays a finger on him."
"You're a good daddy."
"Mm." He chest rumbled at her soft words, his dick awakening below her. "Say that again but slower."
Harlowe giggle against his ribs before rising to straddle his waist. "Aren't you tired yet, old man?"
"Not when you're callin' me daddy."
Happy felt weird driving a cage but couldn't exactly take Jack with him on his bike. He glanced over at the boy who was peering out the window as city streets passed by.
"You sure you're good with hangin' out all day? Probably be pretty boring."
Happy hadn't really wanted to bring the kid into the tattoo shop. He had no idea how to entertain a kid for eight hours, but with Harlowe helping with a catering event the bakery was hosting, he needed somewhere to go. They'd gotten the boy registered for third grade in the fall but the remainder of the summer would be balancing work and childcare.
"Yep." Jack replied without glancing over.
"Coulda been eating cookies all day." Happy offered again knowing Harlowe had needed a day off of motherhood to help run the bakery. It'd been her suggestion to start taking bake sale events for schools, the bulk of proceeds going towards the schools needs, while they received a small cut and free advertising for every upcoming kid's birthday party for the school year. The sales that usually followed an event had gotten the shop above water when they'd hit hard times and in doing so Harlowe was promoted to the official event coordinator of the bakery. It meant she had to run the events, which meant she needed her full attention on the event and not worrying about where the kid was and what he was doing.
"Wanna see where you work." Jack turned to look at Happy as they pulled into the parking lot of the tattoo shop. "You don't want me to?"
"Sure I do." Happy released his seatbelt and reached behind the seat for his gear. "Just saying you'll be bored."
"I promise I'll be quiet." Jack grabbed the lunch bag Harlowe had packed him that morning.
"Hey." Happy turned back towards him, laying his hand on the boy's neck. "You don't gotta promise shit like that, alright? You can talk to me whenever you want."
"Okay."
"I want you to see where I work too."
"You do?"
"I mean there aren't any cookies but I can show you my portfolios."
"That's fine." Jack raised the lunch bag, "I brought the cookies."
"Double doubles?" Happy asked as he took the boy's hand while walking through the parking lot.
"Yep."
"You gonna share?"
Jack flashed him a rare grin before he replied, "maybe."
Happy's gruff laughter brought an even wider grin on the boy's face. He scrubbed the boy's stubbly head playfully and threatened, "you better, I know where you live, kid."
"Hey, Killah." The long haired biker known as Ratchet greeted Happy with a hearty handshake and back pat. The Las Vegas charter we're visiting with a freshly patched Son looking for his official reaper ink.
"Good to see you brother."
"Been too long." Happy tipped his chin towards the boy, "this is Jack."
"He yours?" Ratchet asked with raised eyebrows.
"Yeah." Happy smirked at the man's surprise, the reaction becoming familiar whenever he introduced a Jack to brothers. No one seemed to think the Tacoma Killer could spawn, the idea of such a ruthless killer being parental too foreign for them to comprehend.
"Damn, first an old lady and now a kid. Seems like Killah's gone soft." A younger Son commented nearby, his face unfamiliar to Happy.
"Watch it, brother." Ratchet warned, grabbing Happy's shoulder as he stepped towards the kid insulting him. "Might wanna think twice about questioning what Hap will do to someone even thinking he's soft, I once saw him shove a spoon in this guy's-"
"Enough." Happy growled, causing the man's words to halt suddenly as his eyes slid over to the boy.
Happy glanced at Jack who sat watching the men talk with rapt attention. He scrubbed his buzzcut head affectionately, the gesture steadily becoming second nature, "Cmon, kid. Help me get set up for these big mouths."
"Why do they call you Killer?" Jack's voice echoed in the empty shop after everyone left for the day. The words ricocheted around Happy's skull. It was the question he hadn't even known he was dreading until it fell out of his curious eight-year-old's mouth.
"Just a nickname." Happy rasped while methodically wiping down the tattoo rig in his hands and avidly avoiding the boy's gaze.
"But why?" Jack's feet swung back and forth off the end of the tattooing chair as he watched him place every piece back in its place. Happy closed the tool chest and searched for an answer.
"No one messes with a guy called Killer." He settled on an explanation with a grain of truth hoping it was enough to be a conversation ender.
"You want people to be scared of you?"
"Yeah. Sometimes."
"Oh."
"You scared of me?" Happy rasped cautiously when the boy fell silent.
"Sometimes."
The quiet word felt like shrapnel embedding into the thick muscle of Happy's heart. It tightened his throat in a way he'd only ever felt with Harlowe.
Regret and guilt for hurting a loved one.
It was then he realized that the boy had cemented himself inside Happy's life. He wasn't just the kid they got strapped with after his mother died. Jack was his son, his family. You don't hurt family.
"But not really." The boy continued, pulling Happy out of his spiraling thoughts.
"What's that mean?" his voice was rougher than usual, gritty with unfamiliar emotions.
"Just..." Jack shrugged his narrow shoulders a bit and chewed his lip. "Sometimes I am but I don't really wanna be 'cause I know you won't hurt me."
Happy hummed a bit, pushing his rolling stool to sit in front of the boy. "It's okay to feel scared."
"You're never scared."
Happy huffed out a laugh, scrubbing his shaved head a bit before confessing. "Scaredest I ever been was the day you showed up on my doorstep."
Jack's eyes widened at the statement. "You were scared of me?"
"Yeah. Scared of what would happen." Happy rolled his shoulders uncomfortably at the confession. "Didn't think I'd get t'be a dad and didn't know if I'd be any good at. Still scared I'll mess it up. Mess you up."
The pair were silent for a long moment, Happy going back to cleaning the rest of his station.
"You won't."
"How do you know that?"
"Because Harlowe said you don't do things you don't wanna. You're stubboard."
"Stubborn." Happy corrected with a scowl, "why'd she say that?"
"I wouldn't try her oatmeal cookies."
"Because raisins are gross." Happy replied, smirking as the kid nodded emphatically.
"She said to eat some without 'em and I said no and she said I was as stubboard as you."
"Stubborn, and that ain't true."
"She said if you don't wanna do something you won't. And I said I guess I'm stubboard too cuz I hate raisins."
"Stubborn, and that doesn't make it true, just means you got good taste, kid."
"Oh." Jack chewed his lip a bit before he supplied, "You don't have to be scared, Dad. You're not messing up."
The sentence would've halt his heart without it but hearing Jack call him dad was world changing. Happy could barely rasp out a reply as he blinked away the sudden burn in his eyes.
"Thats good to hear, kid." He lifted him off the chair and asked, "how about we pick up some pizza on the way home for Lowe? She's gonna be tired from running around all day."
"Okay. Can we get breadsticks too?"
"Only if you share." Happy locked the front door and took the boys hand even though the parking lot was empty. They walked towards the big truck parked a few rows away.
"Maybe." Jack replied with a smirk.
"Pfft, I can make you share." Happy tickled his sides as he lifted him into the truck cab causing a riot of giggles from the boy.
"Okay, okay, okay." Jack agreed breathlessly. "I'll share."
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Happy laughed gruffly, strapping the seatbelt around the boy's middle. "You remember this next time you to try to hog the good stuff from your old man."
Jack grinned at him, "Maybe."
Happy growled lowly, his hand reaching out teasingly towards his sides again.
"Okay, I will." Jack exclaimed with a laugh, squirming away from Happy's hand. "I promise."
"Mmhmm, you better."