Ambrose
She was going to make an excellent mother. I watched her with the Make A Wish kids. They ranged in ages from seven to thirteen. I hated that they were sick, but they seemed to be a bunch of strong kids. Their parents stood to the side and smiled as they took all kinds of pictures.
“Can we take one with the two giants?” one little girl asked.
I was in my cut, no shirt, my tattoos displayed. My hair in a styled mop. I had black jeans on and my biker boots. I looked at Darius. He was in a tight black Henley, blue jeans and sh*t kicker boots. His muscles popped as if he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
He nodded and smiled at the little girl. She held her arms up to me. I looked at her parents, and they nodded with smiles. I picked her up, she wrapped her arms around my neck and
