by Hazel Parker
Once I get settled, I’m off down the winding road to her place. She lives more in the suburbs part of the town, just before the city line. It’s gotten colder and the wind bites, but her soft body behind me is enough to keep me warm for what feels like forever. My hand still pulses from being between her legs, my lips are still on fire even as the wind smashes them.
I think about her all the way to her place, and am eager as hell just to turn around and see her again.
“Thank you, Jaxson. I had a great night.” She smiles at me. I walked her to her door and stopped just in front. She fiddles with her keys. I already know I’m not coming in tonight. I want her badly, clearly, but it feels too soon. I know she isn’t some delicate flower, but she feels delicate to me.
Her being with me. I don’t want to scare her off, not that I’m a crazy dom in the bedroom or something. But sometimes I feel like too much for her; I was aggressive in the beginning and she didn’t like that at all. I can’t mess it up now that I have tasted her.
“You’re welcome. I did too.” I exhale once and step closer.
She clears her throat, “ I have a really busy week ahead of me, with school and everything. So um—”
“I’ll just see you this weekend, when you’re free.”
She smiles as if she is glad I understood. I know there is a story there, but now isn’t the time to ask for it.
“Okay.”
She bites her lip and then rises on her tip toes quickly to kiss me. I smile against her lips and deepen the kiss, getting one last good taste of her.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
I step back and watch her unlock the door.
“Goodnight, Jaxson.” She says back to me. I watch her step inside and then rush out of there, before I change my fucking mind.
MY HANDS ARE on my cock as soon as I step in the shower. But it doesn’t stay for long, since Isabelle is still on my mind, her scent on my hand and in my brain. I come faster and harder than I have in a while before I finish up.
It’s not late but somehow I’m exhausted. My days aren’t usually this packed and emotional. When I fall asleep I don’t know whether to think about Isabelle or the club being in trouble. Isabelle wins.
She is so fucking sweet and genuine, I didn’t know women like her were still out there. I thought Dad got the last one in Mom, he said it enough. But Isabelle… she is one of a kind. I knew it when I first saw her, I just didn’t know if I was being crazy or blowing smoke, that I had seen one too many formulaic women before. But not her.
I don’t know about her being my old lady or anything like that, but I see it. For the first time, I see a future beyond myself and my bike, and the club. And that’s what makes me fall asleep, so I can dream about that.
THE NEXT MORNING is greeted with a text from my Mom, saying she is outside my fucking house. It is barely eight, but here she is. I drag myself out of bed, piss and freshen up, then put on some flannel pants before I open the door.
“See this is why I took your key last year.” Is my greeting. My voice sounds like coal knocking together because I just woke up, but I don’t even care.
She snorts and waltzes in. “Oh please, after you see this breakfast casserole you’ll change your mind. Where are your clothes?” she drops a plate on the counter and then spins around to face me.
“You dragged me out of bed and expect me to be fully dressed?”
“I forgot how grumpy you were in the mornings.” She says nostalgically with a sigh.
I manage a grin at her, and then give her a proper greeting. She hugs me and checks my face like I have something on it, but she just does that. She isn’t in her nurse’s uniform, so I have no idea what her plans are.
I make us both cups of coffee and we sit at the island, but not before I grab a spoon.
“Did my brothers get casseroles too?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” I arch my brow at her and then open it up.
The smell hits right away, and it makes my stomach grumble. I dig in without question.
“Yeah, I figured you were having a hard time, what with all that nonsense with the club.” She leans back in the chair and crosses her arms.
“Yeah, well. It is what it is.” I keep eating, it’s even still warm so I figure she woke up early to make it. “This is good Mom, you made it today?”
“Don’t change the subject.” She touches my forearm with her left hand, her diamond ring still shining on her finger.
“I’m not…” I lie.
“I know it seems hard but it will be fine. Your Dad ran into quite a few problems too, so it isn’t just you.”
“It’s not?” I stop chewing and ask. She shakes her head. I stare into her dark blue eyes and she is unwavering. Not just making me feel better.
“No. He had shit going on with the police at one point, the FBI, and of course he county.”
“Shit. How did he get out of it?”
“I don’t know. He never told me.” She says, and I know she isn’t lying because one, she never lies. And two… I’m just shocked.
“I thought you two talked about everything.” I drop my spoon and sip my coffee instead.
“We did. But we also didn’t.” She sighs and grins to herself, “If we talked about everything with the club, we wouldn’t have lasted as long as we did, Jaxson.” Her voice goes soft, and I know we have been talking about him for too long.
I must really love my Mom because I can only think of one thing to get the sad look off her face.
“I met a girl.”
“What?” she immediately smiles, and it feels worth it, despite the oncoming interrogation. “Where did you meet her? Is she your girlfriend?”
I shake my head, “Relax Mom, one at a time.”
She nudges my arm. I take another drink of coffee, she hasn’t touched hers but I’m glad because she is so hyper right now.
“I met her at the club. She is new to town though, so she isn’t a regular or—what do you call them?”
“Bar busters.”
“Yeah. She came here for graduate school, actually.”
“Oh, she’s smart. Like me.” She laughs softly.
“Yeah, exactly like you. Anyway, she came to one of the bar nights and we actually got off on the wrong foot. I told her to leave.”
“Jaxson!”
“It was valid, I didn’t want her getting mixed up in all that shit. She’s… good, you know? I still feel like I’m going to taint her in some way.”
“Oh, Jaxson. She sounds like the kind of girl who wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want to do, so don’t worry about that. Just be good to her.”
For some reason, last night flashes in my mind and I don’t think second base with her in the middle of nowhere is being good to her. But who knows.
“Thanks. I’ll try.”
“When can I meet her?”
That makes me stand up.
“Oh Mom, I don’t know. We’re not that serious yet and I don’t know if we will be.” I stop and think, because I actually want her to meet my mom.
Shit. I have never wanted to intentionally introduce anyone to my mom, at any point in my life. But now I see it. I want Isabelle to meet her, so my mom can see how important she is to me.
“Okay, I’ll leave you alone. But everyone is coming for dinner tonight.”
“Got it.” I hide my discomfort. I love having dinner at the house but dealing with my brothers is a hassle sometimes. Especially Zeke, dude has always given me a headache, since he was born.
“I have to go run some errands. Finish your breakfast.” She gets off her stool to come hug me goodbye and then she is gone.
I end up finishing the whole casserole, though it isn’t that big, and then I go outside to get the mail. It’s the usual shit, credit card statements, club overhead, and then a new one from the city SBO is there.
I collapse on the couch and read it.
It basically just says what we owe to the city, and when it
is due. Simon was right about it being just after the first of the year, because that’s when it is.
I feel a splitting headache come on suddenly and then I let it win. Somewhere between the headache and closing my eyes, I fell asleep. I wake up to a slightly lower sun and many missed calls. They all came from Zeke though, so it isn’t important.
It’s almost time to get to Mom’s house for dinner anyways, so I head to the shower to get dressed. Even though we’re in a motorcycle club and always doing rough shit, we have to be dressed nice for dinner. I find khakis and a nicer tee shirt, dark blue, and wear it under my cut. I don’t think there is a day that I don’t wear it.
Once I get dressed, I text Isabelle just to see how her day was and then set off.
It takes me fifteen minutes to get there every time. I pull up and everyone has already come, so I know I’m going to get it handed to me when I walk in. I check my phone first though, so Isabelle can put me in a good mood.
Isabelle: It was okay, how was yours?
Jaxson: Just okay? And I slept all day.
I walk inside and it already goes off with a response. I stop in the foyer, and sit on the entry way bench.
Isabelle: Yeah, I just had a rough time in class. College kids are assholes. And that’s what I would have rather been doing.
Jaxson: With me?
Isabelle: …
Jaxson: Don’t leave me hanging.
Isabelle: Of course I would be. But I have a feeling you snore very loud.
I grin and shake my head at her, I like her sense of humor.
Jaxson: Well, we wouldn’t have been sleeping.
Isabelle: Oh. Don’t distract me.
Jaxson: You busy?
Isabelle: Sort of, I was plotting. Are you?
Jaxson: About to have dinner with my mom and brothers. So I’m about to be very busy and annoyed.
Isabelle: What? You don’t like them.
Jaxson: Of course I do. There’s just stuff going on with the club right now.
Isabelle: Oh, I’m sorry.
Jaxson: Thanks. I’m sure it will be fine.
Jaxson: Look I’ll call you later.
I lock my phone and stand just as I hear footsteps coming.
“Why are you hiding?” it’s Matthew, grinning with his beer in one hand and piece of bread in the other.
“I’m not. What’s she making?”
“Spaghetti.” He nods at my phone, “who were you talking to?”
“How did you know I was… no one.” I shake my head at him and try to move around him.
We get sandwiched between two pillars when he stops me with a hand on my shoulder.
“I could hear it going off. Come on and spill, before I tell everyone else.”
I flip him off. “I was talking to Isabelle.”
“No shit,” he gets close and I smell the same cologne he has been wearing for a few years and some of Simon’s chew.
“Yeah. We went out last night.” I scratch behind my ear. I love talking about Isabelle, I just don’t love revealing her to everyone else.
Right now it feels like it’s just us, there is no pressure. Minus Mom knowing, I want to keep it that way.
“Oh, good. I don’t think I have ever seen you go on a date.”
“I could say the same to you, asshole.”
The envelope in my jacket suddenly starts to weigh more. I know I have to tell them about it, and Simon will hear too even though he might not care as much.
Though after our conversation yesterday, I think he might.
“Right on. Let’s get in there before—”
“What are we whispering about?” Zeke and his heavy boots come around the corner. He grins, as always, with his messy hair under his hat and cut torn at the sleeves.
“Nothing.”
“Hey don’t hate on the youngest.” He pops something in his mouth I didn’t see before and chews loudly.
“Boys, I can hear you out there, come and set the table!” Mom yells, and that’s it for our side bar.
We walk in the kitchen and I hug her hello. She changed into jeans and a big sweater I recognize as Dad’s after a second. Her smile isn’t sad though, so it makes me feel okay.
I figure the bad news should wait until after dinner, but I still wish I didn’t have to wait at all. That nothing was even wrong. That Dad was still here. I’m starting to realize why I hate family dinners.
13
JAXSON
“So, Simon, how is work?” Mom asks as she passes green beans. Zeke chuckles under his breath but he doesn’t hide it very well, Mom notices and gives him one of her signature looks. Raises her brow and purses her lips.
“It’s good.” He heaps a combination of green beans and more roast beef on his plate. By the time it reaches me again, it is all basically gone. But I know Mom has another batch in the over for us all to take home.
“That’s it?” she tenderly cuts her meat in half.
“Sure, I mean, I guess things are going well. Chris has me heading a new project for this subdivision coming up just outside of town.”
“Oh well that’s good, you’ll be in charge?” Mom flatters him.
He chuckles once, “Sure, Mom. I’ll be in charge.”
“Well be nice.”
We all laugh, because Simon is known for his cold shoulder that he gives nearly everyone.
I crack open another beer. We set the table for another round so we don’t have to get up.
“We should start grilling Zeke now.” Matthew suggest with a humorous tone. I roll my eyes at him and Zeke just nudges him since they are sitting next to each other. I’m next to Simon, who has taken his opportunity of no questions to eat. I can tell he probably hasn’t eaten all day.
My mind is on the club and Isabelle. Darting between the two and unable to decide which one to focus on. If I can’t figure out how to come up with the money, then we will be shit out of luck. And the club will go down in less than a year of me taking the cut as president. And Isabelle… if I can’t figure out how to open up to her, I know I won’t be able to keep her.
And it has taken me a while to realize just how much I want to keep her. I have never met anyone like her; a woman as smart and sweet and beautiful. I realize I have to stop thinking about her before Mom catches wind of it.
“What did Zeke do?” Mom asks with this innocent tone, like he can do no wrong. Honestly in her eyes, he can’t. That’s her youngest and most perfect and apparently he was born at a hard time for Mom and Dad.
I don’t know what it was that happened, they have glazed around it the few dozen times the conversation has come up. All they said was that Zeke held them together for a while, when they felt like the years of their marriage was catching up to them.
“Nothing. That’s the problem. He’s always fucking asking for money.” Matthew explains, not without blame in his tone though. We all just laugh because we know it’s true, but none of us have said it out loud yet—at least I don’t think.
Just last week, I gave him two grand, because he asked nicely and he is hard to say no to when he really tries at it. I have no idea what the money was for, I never asked. If he isn’t sleeping at one of the spare rooms at the club, he is with Matthew. They technically live together but I don’t think he has ever paid rent.
“Oh please, Zeke is a good boy.”
“Yeah, I’m a good boy.” Zeke chimes in. I frown at him and he ignores me, just gives that crooked smile that makes my frown go away like always. “Plus I have a job. The club is my job. And I bartend when I so feel like it too.”
Matthew scoffs and Simon shakes his head. I just keep eating, because it’s entertaining and I don’t really have anything to add. They’re all valid points. Plus the bar inside the club is what keeps the lights on, ‘technically.’ It’s a reputable business with taxes and write offs and everything, and has been going since we opened. Well, it opened first.
Dad came into a new town. One that didn’t know about a MC club and how
to live with it. So it started as a bar with a bunch of bikers. He told the full story a few times but it was so long ago, and I don’t remember it. Basically a club member went rogue on a drug deal, and sold the club out for immunity or some shit. Anyway, the sheriff found out about the club and it was rough going for a while. I remember being a kid and not coming around anymore. Dad must have sweet talked them or something, because the sheriff came around and we were back to hanging around the club, had our cut plastered on the doors outside and inside, too.
The bar took off, because I guess it became a place for people to dare their group of friends to go to, when they thought we were dangerous. The bar is how we moonlight though, it pays for everything legally so if the feds ever come around, and they do, that’s how we would get out of it.
The town came around, and now it’s like we rely on each other. They’ll see shit and not say anything, and we add a little extra protection to them. Then we take care of shit around town that the cops can’t and in turn they turn a blind eye.
So it’s hard to say if we are criminals or not. We break the law sometimes but only if we need to. Only if it helps someone.
“I agree. That is a real job.” Mom giggles, knowing that she is just riling us all up for her to go after.
“Then why don’t you ever have any money?” Matthew retorts.
“Honey, your food is getting cold.” Mom tries to quell the interrogation but he just waves her off.
“People are shitty tippers. I can’t really help it much.” Zeke responds simply with his fake innocent tone.
I smile to myself, deciding I’m full and sip at my beer instead. Mom’s food is always good, I just have so much going on in my head that I can’t even enjoy it.
“Hmph. Well, you need to get your shit in order.”
“And I’m just not supposed to ask about where you get your money?” Zeke says to Matthew, and the look that he returns is what gets me to pay attention.
Suddenly the room is the thicker, the tone having switched to something more serious that I can’t place.
Matthew looks pale in the face and with his sun beat skin, he never looks that way. Zeke has a challenging shade to his face, his always permanent smile is gone and he only looks like this one or two days out of the year. Even after dad died.