Eating Asphalt (Sacred Hearts MC Pacific Northwest Book 5)

by A. J. Downey

  “Alright.” I nodded, a little sad to see him go, but I knew I would see him again, and soon. At least I hoped. I know it was likely just my history with Ben, but I couldn’t shake the feeling this was some sort of excuse to leave.

  We finished eating, and he slipped off his stool and paused, a hand on my shoulder to lean down and kiss me.

  Marc immediately made himself scarce, ducking around the corner and going up the stairs to his room.

  I sighed happily against Jared’s lips, and he drew back slightly.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, and I had to smile. It sounded like a promise.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I repeated back to him. He smiled back at me before drawing back and heading around into my room to finish getting dressed.

  I started cleaning up the kitchen. It was only fair since Marc had cooked. He had a knack for the kitchen and cooked with me on the regular. Now that he was getting older, there were times he came out with recipes and fairly infrequently like this, even cooked all by himself.

  I was still working on getting him to do his own laundry. I think that had less to do with laziness, or lack of know-how on his part, and more to do with even though he was as independent as he was, still liking his mom to do certain things for him.

  I seriously didn’t know how I had lucked out so hard as to have a kid as great as Marc.

  Jared came back into the kitchen as I was rinsing dishes and loading them into the dishwasher and stole one last kiss before leaving.

  “I’ll see you around, gorgeous,” he murmured, then lest I become too complacent at his sweetness to me, he slapped me on the ass. I jumped, letting out a yip that dissolved on a laugh.

  A moment later, the front door opened and closed. A few seconds after that, I heard my son come down the stairs. He entered the kitchen and I glanced back over my shoulder.

  “You alright?” I asked curiously.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips and steeled myself for the hard talk.

  “I haven’t ever really been with anyone but your father,” I said quietly, dumping the water off the plate in my hands and lowering it into the bottom rack of the dishwasher.

  “Mom, he was never really around. Let’s face it. You haven’t really been with anyone in a long time.”

  “Marc—” I didn’t want him to be so angry with his dad.

  “Mom, no, it’s okay. Like, it’s totally cool. I like Jared.” He shrugged. “I just want you to be happy.”

  I shut off the water and turned around, leaning back against the sink.

  “Have I really been so very unhappy?” I asked.

  He went to the fridge and got out one of his bottles of sports drink, rolling it back and forth between his hands.

  “You haven’t exactly been happy for a real long time,” he said. He sounded like he felt guilty for even saying it. “I know you put on a brave face for me all the time, but I’m old enough now. You don’t have to.”

  I sighed. “I’m the adult, and you’re still my child,” I said. “My very, and sometimes annoyingly, perceptive child.”

  I crossed my arms over my stomach; a subconscious movement to hold my hurt in, I think. I felt like this wasn’t exactly one of my finer parenting moments here. Marc shouldn’t have known. I felt like a bit of a failure for not hiding it better.

  He gave me a reckless grin and tossed his sports drink in the air with some spin and caught it, backing out of the kitchen toward the bottom of the stairs.

  “Like I said, most moms don’t give birth to legends.”

  I rolled my eyes and he laughed at me and went up the stairs.

  “I’m sure I’m not the only mother to give birth to such a smartass,” I muttered under my breath, but I was smiling. I finished washing and putting things away, opening cupboards to find where Marc had stashed things, apparently the day before while I had been out.

  Again, I felt a surge of pride at what an excellent kid he was. Even if I did have to argue with him about his room starting to stink and getting it cleaned up on occasion. Such was the life of a boy mom.

  I spent the rest of the day unpacking and with Marc’s help, getting certain furniture pieces into their final position so that the rest of the unpacking could commence. I tried to focus on the living room the most, getting it ninety percent of the way unpacked and set up. I called it quits that evening and with a sigh, went out on the back patio and dropped into one of the lounge chairs out there.

  I chewed my bottom lip and stared at my phone’s empty screen, void of any notifications. I sighed and worried vaguely that Jared might be done. That I’d put out and he’d won the prize and there wasn’t anything left there… I mean, irrational much? Sure, but, agh God!

  It was so frustrating. The years of disinterest, the touches shrugged off, the affection waved away and the excuses. My God, the excuses… I’m busy. Not right now. I have a headache, babe. I just don’t feel like it right now.

  I thought it was me. I’d thought it was me for so long and I carried that secret pain and burden that it was me. The stretch marks, and even after they’d faded, the fact that my figure wasn’t as taut, wasn’t as toned, thinking I was maybe too needy… that maybe my looks were fading… plucking the one or two gray hairs, trying anything to get him to look at me like he used to. Blond? Nope. Red? Nope. Getting back in shape? Nope. Sexier clothes? No, and when he threw a fit and demanded to know if I was cheating?

  God, that had been devastating in a way I can’t even explain and to find out he was?

  Whew, there had to be an entire 747 overhead compartment bin full of baggage and anxiety I had to unpack but Lord, it was all mine to unpack. It wasn’t Jared’s problem and fuck if I didn’t want to come across as too needy.

  So, I sat, and I stared at the blinking cursor on my phone, and I warred with myself on should I, or shouldn’t I text? Should I, or shouldn’t I call?

  I mean, he hadn’t texted or called me, so was it over? Just like that? I wanted to reach out, to know, and I was literally sitting here driving myself crazy overthinking all of this but…

  My phone buzzed in my hands, and I jumped and let out a yelp.

  “Mom?” Marc called from inside the house, the security door closed, but the back door beyond it standing open. It was a nice mild day, and as such, I was letting the house air out a bit.

  “It’s fine, I’m okay!” I called but here was my kid, coming out the back.

  “What was that?” he asked, the ghost of a grin on his face. I looked at his handsome face, so like his father’s, with his father’s brown eyes and my thick mane of chestnut hair, although definitely cut shorter in a style more appropriate for a boy.

  “I’m just overthinking things in my classic style and my phone went off and startled me,” I confessed.

  He laughed at me a little and sat down, spooning some of the cereal he’d poured himself into his mouth.

  “Is it Jared?” he asked around his mouthful.

  I looked and shook my head. “It’s Evelyn,” I said.

  He rolled his eyes slightly at the mention of my best friend’s name back in Georgia.

  “I don’t want to be around for that conversation,” he said, getting up and going back inside.

  “I love you!” I called at his back.

  “Love you, too!” he called after the security door slammed shut. I winced. I’d never been a fan of loud noises.

  I called Evelyn, because her text was pretty much a Girl, when are you going to call me?

  “I was wondering when you were going to get your bony ass on the phone with me!” she crowed by way of greeting when she answered.

  I laughed and shook my head. “It’s been busy around here,” I told her.

  “Aw, yeah?” she asked. “What’s going on now?”

  “Well.” I sighed to buy myself some time. I didn’t know where to start. “The movers finally showed up yesterday,” I said finally.

  “Oh, yeah? H
ow’d that go?” she asked.

  “They broke a bunch of my shit,” I said, making a disgusted noise.

  “Oh, no! Girl! I’m so sorry, on top of everything else.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “I know, but you know what? It’s not the end of the world. They’re just things. Marc and I made it here safe, and we have a sound roof over our heads and…” I hesitated, unsure of what exactly to tell her about Jared. I mean, she knew about him. We’d texted, but…

  “Bitch, you better spill,” she demanded when I was silent too long.

  “The handy guy,” I said.

  “Mm-hm, the hot one?”

  “Yes.” I drew out the word and she chuckled a little.

  “Uh-huh, and what about tall, dark, and handsome?”

  “He uh… he maybe stayed the night last night.”

  I had to hold the phone away from my ear at her excited and deafening squeal she let out on the other end of the line. Okay, she was way too excited.

  “Okay, tell me everything. I need all the delicious dirty details.”

  I rolled my eyes, but her excitement was sort of infectious. I put all my doubts and fears aside for the moment and reveled in the memories of my wild night.

  I told her everything, and I could just picture her on the other end with her big glass of red wine and a bowl of popcorn, hanging on my every word.

  “Right, that sounds amazing, but you didn’t sound happy when I answered the phone. So, come on, tell me, what else happened?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I just haven’t heard from him the rest of the day and you know me—”

  “Overthinking every little minute detail to absolute goddamn death and letting your insecurities run rampant?” she asked, and I gave a sardonic laugh.

  “You know me so well,” I said flatly.

  “Girl, we have talked about this!”

  “I know, I know!” I groaned.

  “Don’t make me put my therapist’s hat on,” she said, and I smiled to myself. Try as she might, Evelyn, my friend, my best friend, the shrink, couldn’t always help herself. She tried valiantly not to head shrink her friends but sometimes… I couldn’t say it upset me. Well, it did sometimes, but most of the time I found her wisdom incredibly insightful and needed.

  “You’re right.” I sighed and confessed, “My insecurities are eating me alive right now and God, Evy, I don’t know. It’s like when I’m with him the stupid things sleep. They raise their ugly heads every once in a while, but he just… he just always seems to know what to say or when to change the subject and talking to him is so easy and—”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about!” she crowed triumphantly.

  “What?” I asked with a little laugh.

  “You listening to yourself right now? When you talk about him, girl, you sound happy.”

  “I am!” I put my hand to my forehead and rubbed at the headache that was forming there. “But I can’t help it. The ‘what-if’s’ are out and in full force.”

  “Well, your ‘what-if’s’ are almost always usually a what the fuck and you need to push past ‘em, baby.”

  “I know, I know, and I wish it was just that easy but—”

  “But what? What are you gonna tell me that I’m not gonna like?” she demanded.

  I blinked and said abruptly, “Evy, I’m going to have to call you back. He’s here.”

  “Tall dark and handsome?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you mean he’s there?”

  “I mean, he literally just pulled up,” I said, having to raise my voice over the chug of his motorcycle’s engine as he pulled to the end of my drive in the part where you pulled past everything and could put it in reverse to back down the drive.

  Instead of backing into the driveway itself and blocking my car in, he just heeled down his stand and leaned the bike onto it.

  “Well, if that isn’t just the best way to tell your insecurities they can take their lies and shove it,” she said, and I could hear her smile.

  I laughed and as Jared strode down the drive, said, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Bye,” she sang out.

  “Bye.” I hung up.

  “Hey,” he said, and I stood up as he finished crossing the distance between us.

  “Hey,” I said back, and he swept me up against him with an arm around my waist and kissed me soundly.

  “Hmm,” I hummed in peace against his mouth.

  “You okay?” he asked against my lips and I nodded, struck dumb for a moment by his kiss. “Didn’t hear from you all day. I started to get a little bit worried.”

  I closed my eyes as he rested his forehead against mine and just enjoyed being held close for a moment.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said and swallowed hard.

  “Liar,” he said, and he was smiling, grinning hard. His voice held some mischievous teasing to it.

  I rolled my eyes as I pulled my head back from his and said lightly, “Didn’t want you to get sick of me.”

  I’d meant it to be silly, a little joke, but it definitely didn’t strike him as funny. His smile flattened and his expression became serious. He shook his head.

  “I didn’t want to be too overbearing or overwhelming or whatever, but, babe, I don’t think I’d ever get sick of you. Please, don’t ever think that.”

  He dipped his head to capture my gaze with his when I stopped looking at him and I blinked once in surprise at the sincerity in them. He asked, “K?” I realized he needed to hear me say it.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Promise me.” He wasn’t asking.

  “I promise.”

  He nodded carefully after searching out my eyes for a moment.

  “Okay.”

  “What are you even doing here?” I asked with a slight laugh.

  “Like I said, I hadn’t heard from you all day and I was on my way home and passing by. I just had this urge to see if everything was alright, so I dipped at your exit and here I am.”

  “Oh…” I murmured; happy he was here.

  “I’m not overstepping, am I?” he asked, and I smiled and shook my head.

  I did the brave thing then and took a deep breath. “When I hadn’t heard from you, I guess I started overthinking things,” I confessed.

  He frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

  I drew in a shuddering breath and said, “I thought maybe I was… um, like a hit it and quit it or—”

  He grabbed my chin lightly and stared me in the eyes, his hazel ones full of fire as he shook his head.

  “I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said, and his voice was clipped. He dragged his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and put the screen in front of my face.

  He had texted me, like three times throughout the day, asking how things were going with the unpacking, asking if I was doing alright, and finally, letting me know he was getting a little worried.

  I frowned and opened my phone and showed him none of those texts had been received.

  “Technology, gotta love it,” he said sardonically, and I smiled. “So, we good?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Of course!”

  “Restart your phone for me,” he said, and I did. We waited for it to cycle through its startup screen then waited for a time after that. Still nothing.

  He sighed and restarted his phone and almost as soon as it restarted, it started buzzing in his hand with alerts and text messages from other people. A moment later, all three of his texts came through on my phone.

  “I guess it wasn’t really you, it was me,” he said with a wink, and I laughed.

  “Gotta be anywhere in a big hurry now?” I asked.

  “Can’t say that I do. Just need to get ready for work tomorrow.”

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  “I could eat. Are you on the menu?” he asked, grabbing my ass playfully and I laughed.

  “Chicken. Chicken is what’s for dinner.”

  “Count me in,” he said wi
th a smile.

  “Okay, great.”

  16

  Glass Jaw…

  I woke up to a text that morning from Mav.

  Major got himself picked up on a drunk and disorderly down in Tacoma last night. You’re closer. Bail him out, please? Club’s got it.

  Shit. I was supposed to spend the day here, but fuck if duty didn’t call.

  I showered, made coffee while the kid started up breakfast. He’d made some progress on his mom’s kitchen while I’d had her out yesterday afternoon and I appreciated that. He was a good kid.

  I hated leaving like this. It felt abrupt, and I didn’t like that, but things were also still new and club first… damnit.

  I would make it up to her. Wasn’t sure how, but I would.

  After a swift goodbye and a lame excuse, I rode down to the Pierce County jail and posted the modest bond on fuckin’ Major.

  “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?” I demanded. My brother looked rough, the neck of his faded black tee stretched and torn, but with the way he had the sleeves cut out that could have been a before or after.

  “Motherfucker called me a nigger. I couldn’t let that disrespect stand. I was about to knock his fuckin’ teeth down his throat but the cops showed up and arrested my ass for all the yelling.”

  “What motherfucker would this be?” I asked.

  “Fuckin’ bouncer. Some Aryan Nation yahoo fuckin’ weirdo,” he said.

  “You know where you left your bike?”

  “Shit, man. They probably towed it. It’s back over on Pearl Street,” he said.

  “Where the fuck were you? Hell’s Temple?”

  “Naw, that new fuckin’ club. Didn’t know the girl I was with had a daddy and brother who were a couple of racist fucks.”

  I laughed to myself. “I was wondering when you were gonna say pussy had something to do with it.”

  “Man!” He made a tsking noise. Wasn’t the first time he had chased some white tail that was just trying to stick it to her racist daddy by sucking some big black cock.

  “You’re lucky the pigs just arrested your ass and didn’t fuckin’ kill you,” I said. “Come on. Let’s see if we get lucky and find your bike.”