by Tara Lynn
That took care of day one. Now I’d just have to avoid this screwed up family for a few hundred more. Maybe I could move out into my own small place. Freemont was cheap. But that would make saving up for college harder. I’d end up heading to UCSC without even enough for a semester’s tuition.
So here I lay, waiting for my problems to leave. I’d already heard mom head out to her little job at the hair salon. She was the least of my problems, though.
The voices moved down the hallway behind me, along with a couple sets of footsteps. I heaved in relief. Lorne must be taking his son to reunite with his other family, the Liberated.
Damon might have said he had left the MC lifestyle behind, but he’d come back to town. Now, he was back with his father.
Even leaving beside the ickiness of being related, the guy was a liar through and through. He’d probably fought Reggie just to trick me into falling into his lap.
You didn’t fall in his lap. You sat.
I shuddered the thought from my brain. A chopper engine rumbled outside, then zoomed off. I waited until the sounds faded, then finally rolled out of bed. I had the urge to flee, but this town had made me savage enough - no need to run out hungry and smelly.
I showered and dressed, still a little quickly, just in case that chopper came roaring back. Once all my stuff was in a book bag, I set it by the door and went back to the kitchen to grab an oatmeal bar.
I picked through the cabinets. We had boxes and boxes of chewy peanut butter singles so I just grabbed a giant pack. If I kept this in my car, I wouldn’t need to come back for days. All I need now was a place to shower. Maybe Marty had one at the bar. I’d just have to check for peepholes, first.
Light with victory, I whirled around.
Damon stood in front of me, sipping at a mug.
I yelped and tossed the box at him. He deflected it with an elbow, and casually took another sip.
“I’ve eaten,” he said. “Thanks for the offer.”
My body refused to move. Honestly I had no idea what to do. The toss had been a reflex - I hadn’t even recognized him. He’d shaved his face clean from head to chin. All that remained of that rough lumberjack was a shadow of a beard. It thrust all his features into sharp relief: his jutting axe head of a jaw, his cliff walls of cheeks and his storm water eyes.
He didn’t belong here. Even wearing his simple shirt and jeans, he belonged on the bag of some designer clothing store at some mall. I probably still would be dumbstruck looking at that picture of him.
Damon crouched a moment and picked up the box. “Here,” he said. “Twenty-four count. You going on a hike?”
My slack-jawed mouth had gone dry, so I gulped a few times and took the box. “Thanks.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question.”
He had his head cocked, just a notch. If he bent down for a kiss, I realized, his nose would miss mine.
Why was that thought even in my head?
I squeezed my eyes till the pain wiped my head clear.
“I’m not going hiking,” I said.
“Well, that’s one activity down. Only several hundred other possibilities.”
I sighed. “I just figured I’d keep it in my car.”
“It’s good to be prepared. That’s one thing the army teaches right.”
Army. That one word called up all the questions I’d had about him. It also made a lot of pieces fit together. He had left the Liberated, joined the military, seen the world and come back. Lorne wouldn’t have heard a thing about Damon unless he wanted it known.
It didn’t answer why he was back though. I tried to remember what he had said about changing his home instead of running somewhere new…
No. I was not here to understand him.
“Yeah, well, this is all the preparation I need,” I said, looking past at the hallway. “I’ve got to get to class.”
“Your mom said you only have classes three times a week.”
“I meant study for class. I need to go study.”
I tried to step forward, but he had me fenced in between the island stove and the counter. Instead of budging, he just snorted.
“I didn’t take you for a runner.”
“What?”
“You seemed like such a strong girl. You must be to deal with the people in this town, but I’m not seeing any of that now.”
All the tension coiled up in my chest erupted into my throat. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I know a few things.” He spread his arms out, gating me off completely. “I know you’re smart. I know you don’t like it here. I know you want to leave, but you can’t for some reason.”
“Well, right now it’s because of an asshole who’s in my way.” I eyed the other side of the stove. “Actually…”
I headed around. Just as I was at the other side, Damon took a giant step and blocked that end.
“Actually,” he said. “I recall saving your ass more than being an asshole.”
I snorted like a rhino about to charge. I was about to. “Saved my ass, just so you could have a piece of it.”
He chuckled, and it sounded like a country melody. “Is that what you’re telling yourself, sweetheart? You and I both know that won’t hold up in court.”
My cheeks burned. Oh god, I just wanted to run. But I couldn’t. Wherever I went, I had to come back to this.
“You offered me a drink,” Damon said. “You sat down next to me.”
“Ok, ok,” I said. “Can we just forget that ever happened?”
He thought off into the air a moment, transforming from a model into a Roman statue. “No,” he concluded. “I don’t see any reason for that.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t force my way out of this box. I’d better just let him say his piece.
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to hear what I said that night. We did nothing wrong.” He flicked the box in my hand. “There’s no reason for you to go through all this.”
“We’re related, Damon.”
“We didn’t know then. Besides, what does that even mean? A piece of paper gets to decide that? You didn’t even recognize me.”
I shook my head. “Maybe it was ok before. But now we’re living together. Your dad and my mom take family seriously.”
He said nothing a moment, and the fridge filled the silence with its hum. “You call Lorne, ‘Daddy’?’”
“No.”
“Did you take his last name?”
“Hell, no.”
“Then that makes you not his family. If it ain’t by blood, we make our choices. We each make our choices. You don’t even like him, do you?”
I said nothing. Lorne knew well how I thought of anything he touched. One enemy in the house was enough.
“It’s fine,” Damon said. “I’m not buying him any Father’s Day mugs either. And I’m his blood. You get what I’m saying?”
“We both don’t like the same guy. Great. Can I go now?”
“That’s part of it. Now I’m sure your mother’s fine, but she’s the last person that should be with Lorne.”
The heat turned back up inside me. “What’s wrong with my mother?”
“Nothing.” The smile that had been so high on his face dropped altogether. “I’m just saying, neither of us accepts our current classification. So there’s nothing wrong with what happened between us.”
He’d sunk in, as if more of his presence would suffocate my thought. Maybe it was working. My blood wasn’t boiling anymore. I only felt a bit warm.
“Fine,” I said. “But why are you even living here? Why on earth did you come back?”
“I’m going to fix the town,” he said. “I want to make it something other than the center of a drug empire.”
I snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I know it won’t be easy,” he said. “Change takes time. But I’ve got history in this place. I can make a difference with Lorne at least.”
The s
mile had vanished now. His eyes almost seemed to burn like stars. He wasn’t lying, or even joking around for once.
“I guess I believe you,” I said. “In theory, at least.”
His cheer came back in full force, with a brain clearing grin. He stuck out a hand. “Friends?”
I looked at the massive thing, and then gave it a small shake. “Alright. If it makes you happy.”
“Oh, it does.” He stepped out of my path and ticked his head at the hallway. “I’ll see you after you’re done studying then.”
I nodded and slogged down the hall. The roller coaster inside my head had finally gone flat, but I was still not on solid ground.
We were friends? That seemed a little too easy. I still didn’t know much more than his name. At least he wasn’t with the Liberated. That was enough to make someone my friend around here. Maybe we could get along, and with time, I’d forget how well we’d gotten along at the beginning.
Actually, I could already think about it without cringing.
Still, even as I got in my car and pulled off down the driveway, the word ‘friend,’ kept bouncing around in my head.
‘Friend’ was a start. It was also an end. I’d never been unhappy to hear it back in high school, with the sort of guys I knew there. Now that I had actually survived an encounter with Damon, the word felt a little bit sour each time I heard it.
It felt so distant. Somewhere, deep down, I still felt something close with him. Maybe it was what I saw when talked about changing Freemont. It was the same thing I saw that night at the bar as he stepped for me. It wasn’t just his looks. There was something real to him.
If I let it go, I felt a connection to him. Something deeper than friend. Something other than family.
What was left though? What could possibly be left?
I blasted the radio and the thought from my head, before it could ruin the whole day.
CHAPTER SIX
Damon
I stood by one of the lifts in the garage, waiting to be called in. Daylight blared outside and I still had no shades. There must be a pair lying around the clubhouse somewhere. I’d rather have the cash to buy one outright.
Coming from the Liberated, the money would be dirtier than I liked, but I always knew it’d have to start like that. All that mattered was making sure I didn’t wind up satisfied leaving it that way
The lot buzzed like a dozen beehives. The autoshop part had four service bays, and all of those were full, being worked on by guys in grey uniforms and a choice few with the Liberated colors. It still wouldn’t be nearly enough to launder the sort of income stream Lorne was pulling in, but it grounded the club. It let him pretend we still were who we used to be.
I sank back on the wall and watched the guys work. For the first time since I came to Freemont, I truly felt home.
I’d grown up here. I could still remember sitting on the trunk of a car as they hoisted it up. Old Gill would sit on his chair and talk to me, while Roberto or someone worked underneath.
“Why do we even have a garage?” I’d asked once or twice.
“To make money, little man,” Roberto would call out. “Gotta pay the bills.”
“Bills?” I’d seen dollar bills around, but mostly Lorne complained about not having enough.
“That’s not it,” Gilly had growled at the mechanic. “Your father and I bought this place because it was necessary. Tell me¸ Damon, what is our club motto?”
“Ride free!” It might have been the first words out of my mouth.
“And how do we ride on a broken bike?”
I shook my head.
“Exactly. All this?” He had stretched his arms as much as his arthritis would let him. “It’s a means to an end. Don’t forget the end.”
Gilly had died long ago. Apparently Roberto had been gunned down a year after I left, back when there was still blood on the streets. I didn’t recognize any of the faces working out here. It had barely been half a decade, but the only ones left from my time here were all Freemont Charter partners.
Partners. They should call them what they were: lieutenants in a cartel. That’s what this club had turned into: a meth empire. Even having a higher level of membership went against the very notion of the Liberated.
Past the shop were the office and the clubroom, inside which the partners were discussing my return. It was just a blank white building that looked about as glamorous as a post office.
Eventually, the office door swung open and a figure in club leather strode out. He cut past the cars littering the asphalt and headed my way.
I tensed up as I realized just who it was.
Reggie pounded up towards me, either squinting against the sun, angry or both. He stopped a couple yards away and the squint spread into a snarl.
“They’re ready for you.”
“Are you?” I moved up to him carefully, taking care to watch him while looking at ease.
“I ain’t gonna knife you,” Reggie said, eying my fists.
“No, you’re not,” I said. “I’m just making sure I don’t need to help you keep that promise.”
We walked back towards the door, though not exactly hand in hand.
“It’s a nice trick you got,” Reggie said. “Sucker punching a man, then running back to Daddy.”
“I don’t remember using my connections the night I beat you up.”
“No, you just let Marty step in.”
“We’d had our fun. No need to drag it out.”
Reggie paused at the door. “We’re not even, you and me. The beer earned you some rest, but you better believe I’ll be working you. Even if they let you wear the cut, that’s not going to change a thing.”
“Whatever makes you feel powerful.” I went in before he could carry on.
The bar was mostly empty and dark, a cool reprieve from the California sun. I took a lap, breathing deep of its dank musty odor. It gave me the same vigor others must feel in some flowery meadow somewhere.
I’d passed many a day in this place, shooting shit, drinking soda, and later, beer. I had barely been eighteen when I left, but manhood wasn’t measured in age around here.
I stopped at the pictures on the far wall, looking over members past and present. Some had left, some were locked up, and some were just plain gone. There was still an old group photo up with me in it. I was just a little thumbtack standing at Lorne’s side.
I’d admired each of the dozen in this photo, a warm and wild bunch who knew how to live life. My junkie mom had died when I could barely open my eyes. These guys here were the closest thing to a family I’d ever had.
Then, I’d walked away.
Now I had a new family I didn’t want and my old family had morphed into something cold and serious.
“Come on, shithead,” Reggie said, opening the club room door by the far end. Voices bristled inside. I filled my lungs, stretched my muscles and stepped on through.
Nine men in club colors sat around a long wooden table. My dad sat at the far end and Reggie went to sit on his right. Baxter nodded at me from his other side.
Torrance was there, too, and he beamed like I was one of the hookers I heard he now frequented. The only other face I could make was Vince, a thick bald guy who wore the same blank look as Lorne. He had always been a kiss-up. The other guys, I didn’t know.
“You should sit,” Lorne said. An extra chair had been pulled in and set directly on the far end from him. I sunk into it.
“So we’ve talked,” Lorne started,“about your request to be reinstituted as a full member of the charter. You’re an unusual case.”
He was using his club voice now - all business. There was little room for sentimentality in the new Liberated, especially when dealing with a son who had left the club hanging in the wind. I folded my arms and did my own bit to look unaffected.
“You carried out your duties, and you didn’t leave on bad terms, but they weren’t good terms either. You just threw down the colors and abandoned the club. Now, I alway
s believed that it was just temporary. That’s why I kept them.”
He pulled out a clump of material and slid it across the table. I spread it out before me. It was a jacket, with the skeletal outline of an eagle staring back. A little patch on the top right read Damon. Despite all my doubt over what this jacket meant, the leather scent had my head soaring over a sea of memories.
“It looks like they’ll still fit you,” Lorne was saying. “But some of these men raise a good point. We need to make sure that that fit is snug. We need to make sure you won’t just tear that thing off at the slightest wind and throw it down. So we can’t say we let you back in as a member, just yet.”
“As a partner,” I said, eyeing the finish on the table. It looked expensive.
Lorne’s poker face bunched up. “What?”
“I want in as partner, not just a member. I’ve been in this club more than three quarters of my life. It’s in my blood.”
“Fuck that,” Reggie blurted out.
Lorne glared at him.
“I’m sorry, man,” Reggie said. “He’s your family, but Liberated is family too. There’s no way he’s earned a seat at this table. Is he kidding? Are you kidding?”
He aimed this at me.
“No,” I said. “I’m not. I left, it’s true. I didn’t build this club into…whatever it is now. But I didn’t come back for no reason and with nothing to offer. I’ve got plans to make us even better.”
I didn’t want to share more details than that, but Baxter was right. If I’d come here to find honesty and freedom, then they should hear truth from me.
Guys around started talking to each other. Lorne cleared his throat and the room went silent.
“I think we’ll stick to the original plan for now. We’ve got a title for you.”
He pressed a patch onto the table and slid it over. I stopped it and read: ‘Probate.’
“What the hell is this supposed to mean?” I asked.
“It didn’t seem fair to call you a prospect,” Vince said. “We know you can handle being in the club. We just need some time to make sure you want to.”
Lorne studied me like our undead eagle. I supposed I should be angry, but a foothold was a foothold. I nodded.