“Remember when I told you I sold everything I owned and began hiking the AT?”
“Yes.”
“I sold the house for a hundred and fifty thousand dollars more than the mortgage. I hit the housing market just right without meaning to, and over the years I’ve grown that money through investments. You met Brain — he’s my advisor and he’s about four levels beyond a genius. Also, I’m part owner of the bar, the bike shop, the gun store, and the shooting range. I make an hourly wage plus I get a substantial quarterly check because our businesses are very profitable. You look at me and see a bouncer and a biker, but that’s okay because it’s what you’re supposed to see. I think society and it’s prissy-assed rules about what’s acceptable and what isn’t is fucked up, and society looks at me and sees a loser. I’m happier than almost every civilian I know, so who’s the loser?”
“Civilian?”
“Anyone who isn’t part of the biker world.”
“Means something different to my dad.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Apology accepted. You’ll let me pay for meals when we eat out from now on. I’m not going to insist on a whole lot, but I need you to give me this one.”
“Because you’re the man and are supposed to be the provider?”
I’m not stupid, I saw the flashing danger sign. “You’ve provided for my kids so far beyond what you had to, and I’m truly grateful you’re in their life. You’re a great provider, Connie, but I’m not great at being provided for. Please let me pay for meals when we eat out together.”
“You’re slick, I’ll give you that.”
Time to change the subject. “Most people are out of breath climbing out of that canyon. What do you do to work out?”
“I have a workout room downstairs, and I run on the treadmill and use the weight machine before I wake the kids in the morning.”
“Every morning?”
“Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I do yoga on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, but don’t work out on Sundays.”
“How religious are you?” It was a potentially dangerous conversation, but I needed to know and she’d opened the door.
“Oh, I don’t take the day off because it’s the Lord’s Day or anything, I just think my muscles need a day I don’t push them.”
“So, not very religious?”
“I’m not ready to talk to you about something so personal, yet.”
Well fuck, now I was intrigued, but I wasn’t sure if I could safely push for more information.
I was considering my next question when she said, “I don’t know anything about your family. Brothers, sisters?”
I sighed and told her a truth only a few of my MC brothers know. “My parents and brother were killed in a car wreck when I was fourteen, and I went into foster care. After high school I went to community college for two years and took the classes I’d need for a law enforcement career — criminal justice and some law classes. I didn’t pass the personality profile during the police academy and was kicked out, so I became a skip tracer instead.”
“I don’t know how many times I can say I’m sorry to you, but I’m so freaking sorry you’ve experienced so much loss.”
“It was a long time ago… and freaking? Is that your way of saying fucking?” I didn’t want to stay on the subject of my shitty teenage years.
“Maybe.”
“Can you say fucking? Will the windows break around you if you do? The birds fall from the sky while lightning strikes all around you?” I asked with a smile, teasing her.
“No, but I’m not comfortable saying it.”
She responded with a smile, but now I wanted to understand her rationale. “You know it isn’t a sin to say it, right? Society has decided it isn’t acceptable. It’s one of society’s silly rules.”
“Yeah well, I live in this society so I tend to follow the rules. Silly or not.”
She’d given me her truth and I couldn’t ask for more than that. Time to change the subject. “Can I stick around long enough to tuck them in tonight before I leave?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. You overworked muscles you aren’t used to using.”
“My ankles are already feeling it, and a muscle in my thighs that attaches to my knees. I’m not sure I was even aware it was there, before today.”
“You run straight on your treadmill, and your weight machine has you lifting in a straight line. The real world has curves.”
“You think I’m too insulated.”
Fuck yes, but… “If you’re comfortable with it, it isn’t for me to judge.”
“But you don’t want your kids to be insulated.”
“If it were up to me, I’d homeschool them and never let them out of the house, but even that wouldn’t guarantee their safety. So, instead I need to teach them as much as I can about staying safe and defending themselves.”
“You agree with my father about martial arts.”
She said it as a statement and not a question, and I nodded. “Yeah, and I’ve already told you I know an instructor who teaches with self-control as the foundation of everything. Not only your temper, but also the simple act of moving your arm to defend yourself. It’s your arm — if you can’t control it, who can? It’s also your temper, and you must control it.”
“Chloe was testing you.”
“How did I do?”
“Better than I expected you to. I was impressed.”
“What do you do to discipline them?”
“I use logical consequences when I can, but if it isn’t practical we have timeout, loss of privileges, or early bedtime.”
“If I were to do the loss of privilege or early bedtime, it’d fall on you to enforce it, which wouldn’t work. My arsenal is pretty barren.”
“Were you spanked as a child?”
I nodded. “Belt, but yeah.”
“Me too. My dad’s a strict disciplinarian. It’s a wonder Sandy’s bottom didn’t bear permanent marks, he belted her so many times.” She shook her head and came back to the present. “I swatted the kids’ behinds when they were too young to have a conversation about right and wrong, but I haven’t done so in about a year and a half. About a year ago, I ran a finger over wet soap and ran it down Chloe’s tongue for backtalking me and using crude language, and I’ll do it again if I hear that kind of language from her.”
“Clara would’ve gotten a swat on the butt for that tantrum, but I had a feeling Chloe wouldn’t be accustomed to that, so I found another way. I still think a quick swat is better than a timeout, but I understand the ramifications if you do it in public and someone reports you. If kids know you’ll react one way in public and another in private, they’ll adjust, and that isn’t good, either, because they need to think their parents are all powerful. So, I’ll discipline them without striking them.”
“Well, what do you know. You’re going to follow one of society’s silly rules.”
She was teasing me, so I grinned and tilted my head in agreement.
* * *
I cooked steaks on the grill while Connie prepared fried squash and french fries. We cut the kids’ meat as they took a seat at the table, and I realized how comfortable we were becoming, parenting them together.
“We make a good team,” I told her, and she smiled back as if in agreement.
I had one-on-one time with each child while she ran the other through the bath, and tonight was apparently also hair-washing night, so the blow dryer was involved. I remembered bath time with Clara and Nicky when they were little, the fun of playing in the water, the affection and caring of making sure they were clean. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to have that with Chloe and Declan, but I enjoyed the time I had with them.
It hurt my heart a little when I realized how much more Declan opened up and talked when Chloe wasn’t around, and I made a mental note to try to draw him out more around his sister.
Tonight we
cozied up in Chloe’s bed for me to read to them, and I carried Declan to his bed at bedtime.
I sat on the top step with Connie again, and we listened to them talk.
“Declan?”
“Be quiet or we’ll get in trouble.”
“I like having a daddy to read to us and tuck us in.”
“I liked climbing on the rocks.”
“Me too. Do you think Daddy will marry Aunt Constance so we can all be a fambly?”
“No. Aunt Constance was mad when Daddy bought us boots.”
“She has to fall in love with him. Let’s pick flowers tomorrow and make her think he gave them to her!” Chloe was a terrible whisperer, especially when excited, but it made me want to go to her and hug her, my heart swelled so much for the little matchmaker.
“Lay back down,” Declan said, also in a much-too-loud whisper. “She can hear when you walk.”
“I want to sleep with you.”
“It makes her mad now, Clo. Please just stay there. I don’t want to be in trouble tomorrow when she wakes us up and we’re together.”
“Just for a little while?”
“I’m suppose to tell on you if I don’t want to be in trouble, too. Please just stay over there.”
Her little feet padded softly across the floor, and the mattress springs barely protested when she joined her brother. I heard Declan sigh, but I’m sure Connie didn’t. I wasn’t sure she’d heard her walk across the floor, either.
“I’ll take care of it,” I whispered.
I walked in and looked under Chloe’s blanket, then looked under her bed as I said, “Where could Chloe be?”
I left the room to check the bathroom, and when I came back she’d flown to her bed and was pulling the covers up. “There you are! I didn’t see you before. When I put you in your bed, I mean for you to stay there unless you need to use the bathroom, or unless something’s wrong. Okay my little Chloe-bug?”
“I’m not a bug!” she said with a giggle.
“Yeah, you’re my little Chloe-bug, all cocooned up in her princess sheets.” I dropped to my knees, propped my elbows on the side of her bed, and brought my face closer to hers. “Seriously, Chloe, you have to stay in your bed. I think you should apologize to Declan for not caring that you were going to get him in trouble along with yourself. He could’ve told on you and kept himself out of trouble, but he kept quiet, knowing he’d get in trouble even though he begged you not to come over there. I’m not going to make you apologize because it needs to come from your heart. Think about it and decide. You don’t have to do it right now.”
I kissed her forehead and went to Declan’s bed. I’ve never been prouder of him than I’d been when he didn’t snitch on his sister, but let her come to him because she needed him. I wasn’t sure I could tell him that without it coming across wrong though, so I told him, “I’m proud of you, Declan. I love the way you look out for your sister.” I dropped to my knees and propped my elbows on the side as I’d done for Chloe. I didn’t want the naughty child to get more attention than the good child. “Do you miss being able to sleep with Chloe?”
“Yeah, but Aunt Constance says we’re too old.”
“She’s right. I love that you’re so close to each other, but you need your time alone at night. Aren’t you afraid you’ll get girl cooties?”
“I don’t have cooties!” Chloe yelled from her side of the room, and I grinned at Declan.
“She doesn’t,” he said, his face serious. “I’m pretty sure some of her friends do, but I checked Chloe’s hair real good and there wasn’t anything crawling around.”
I suppressed a laugh as I said, “Well, I’m glad to hear that, but you can’t see girl cooties. They pretty much only transfer to boys when they’re asleep though, and now that you’re four, she probably has them. You might have boy cooties, too, and you don’t want to pass them to her when she’s asleep, do you?”
He shook his head, his little face so solemn I felt guilty for lying, but I kissed his forehead as I’d kissed his sister’s, and left the room. I sat on the top step with Connie again and she glared at me but didn’t say anything. I’d heard her listening right outside the door, so I knew she’d heard it all.
“Do you think we really have cooties we can give each other in our sleep?” Chloe asked.
“Why didn’t Aunt Constance tell us?”
“Maybe it’s a secret we aren’t supposed to know?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll stay over here. I don’t want your boy cooties.”
“I’m glad we can’t pass them to each other when we’re awake.”
“Me too.”
Chapter 11
Gonzo
Connie and I waited another five minutes before we went down. I heard them drift off to sleep by the cadence of their breath, but I waited for her to decide enough time had passed.
She took me to the den and had fire in her eyes as she accused, “You lied to them!”
“My wife boiled lavender in water, strained it into a squirt bottle, and labeled it Monster Spray. She put it beside the bug spray in a cabinet they couldn’t get into, but let them watch her get it out so they’d think it was as dangerous as the bug spray. She spritzed their room with it, their closets, under their beds. She put a lot on their curtains and around the door frame. She told them it was poison to monsters and would keep all of them out of their room, and they believed her.”
She crossed her arms and her glare grew harder, and I asked, “Do you tell them Santa Claus is real?”
She narrowed her eyes and I chuckled. “In a year or two we’ll laugh with them over it, but by then they won’t want to sleep together, hopefully. I’d love for Chloe to think boys can give her cooties until she’s about forty, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to make her believe it that long.”
“Chloe, not Declan?”
I shrugged. “I was a teenage boy once. When your dick’s hard you don’t care about cooties when you’re a teen. STDs, AIDS, and teen pregnancy are all real and they still fuck without a condom.”
“You’re crude.”
“You gonna soap my mouth?”
“Would you like that?”
“I’d like to see you try.”
I suppressed a smile when she realized she didn’t have a comeback. She saw me holding it back, and she rolled her eyes and smiled. “Goodness but you’re impossible.”
“We’re having a picnic at the clubhouse Saturday — one week from today. We’ll have members of law enforcement with their families, and club members will have their wives and kids there. Nothing illegal, nothing terribly raucous. We roast a pig, and the women bring side dishes and desserts. Later in the day we have paintball wars in the little wooded area in the compound, but before that we give the little kids super soakers and turn them loose in the woods against each other. Chloe and Declan will love it, and I think you might have a good time, too. There’s some cussing, but it’s casual cussing.”
“What’s the difference in cursing versus casual cussing?”
“They might hear, ‘The damn fire’s burning too hot, pull some of the wood away,’ but they won’t hear, ‘Fuck but I’d like to dip my cock in that cunt’.”
Her face went bright red again and I said, “Please consider it. You’ve met Harmony, and I promise you she, Gen, and Angelica will make you feel welcome. The other ol’ladies will, too, but those three are special to me and they really want to meet you and my kids.”
“Ol’ladies?”
“I know it sounds misogynistic to civilians, but it’s important in our world. It’s a title, and it deserves respect. I hope you’ll understand we have our own rules and terms, and you won’t belittle something others hold dear.”
She didn’t say anything and I asked, “What did you think of Brain and Harmony?”
“They seemed a lot more normal than you.”
I laughed. “Okay, but what about their relationship?”
“They’re obviously close. They
seemed to know what each other was thinking, and it looked to me like you have some sort of connection to both of them, not just Brain.” She shrugged. “Brain came to you once when you seemed to be in distress, but Harmony went to you after you called Chloe… by the wrong name.”
“You can say Clara’s name. It’s okay. And yes, I’m close to both of them. My point is that Harmony wears a vest that says “Property of Brain” on the back. Outsiders see it and assume it means Brain owns her, and while that’s true, it also means she owns Brain. That patch keeps her safe around bikers because they know if they lay a hand on her they won’t have to deal with Brain alone, but also the entire RTMC. We don’t call law enforcement when there’s a problem, we handle it ourselves.”
“But you said law enforcement will be at your party.”
“Yeah, officers, detectives, and maybe even some of the brass. We’ve worked hard to earn their respect. They don’t approve of our vigilante activities, and are clear they’ll arrest us if they catch us, but they also don’t necessarily see us as the bad guys. We’ve helped curb the drugs and violence in the territory we claimed when we came to town, and the brass appreciates it even though they can’t officially condone it.”
“I’d never wear a patch that said I was the property of someone else.”
“Here’s a clue, you don’t have to turn someone down for something they haven’t asked you to do.” I sounded angrier than I intended, and I took a step back as I said it because I could see I scared her. Or, maybe alarmed is a better word. She wasn’t afraid of me, just wary at a tone of voice she hadn’t heard from me since the night we met.
She looked at me a few seconds and said, “I apologize. I don’t understand your world but I’ll try not to speak ill of it.”
“Thank you. If you come, you and the kids will be safer inside our compound during a party than anywhere else on the planet.”
Gonzo (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 7) Page 9