Rite Of Passage

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Rite Of Passage Page 3

by Infante Bosco, Janine


  F uck this flying shit. I don’t care if it takes longer to get where I gotta go, once this trip is over, I’m never flying again. Especially, after hitting turbulence half-way into the flight and having the guy to my left accidentally grab my junk instead of the armrest. Yeah, you heard me right. Now, I’m blessed in the south but even hard my shit ain’t that big. If I knew how to open the emergency exit, I would’ve thrown the motherfucker off the plane.

  The second the wheels touch down on the tarmac, I pull our two small suitcases from the overhead compartment, take Ashlynn’s hand and get the fuck out of dodge. There are no easy escapes when flying though and it takes us ten minutes before they even let first class off the plane.

  “That was so much fun,” Ashlynn exclaims as we finally make our way off the plane and head toward the gate.

  “Yeah, barrels,” I deadpan.

  Reaching the end, I pause to figure out my next move. I didn’t even bother to ask if someone would be picking us up from the airport. Deciding it’s very unlikely my mother took the time to pick us up, I start to lead Ashlynn towards the taxi stand.

  “Ryan?”

  It’s not someone calling my name that causes me to stop dead in my tracks. It’s the voice.

  Smooth as whiskey.

  Sweet as honey.

  All fucking Bess.

  Clutching Ashlynn’s hand tightly, I turn around. I naively expect to find the same girl I left behind, but she’s nowhere to be found and my gaze wanders away from the woman standing in front of me, gawking at me and my daughter. When I search some more and come up empty, I look back at the woman. The dark brown hair is the same but everything else is different. She’s traded her cowboy boots for a pair of fancy heels. Also gone are the daisy duke shorts I secretly loved so much. Now her long legs are hidden behind a pair of tailored pants.

  What a shame.

  To make matters worse, she’s not even wearing one of those skimpy little cropped tops I often teased her about. That shit’s gone too. I’m not even sure what the hell one would call the shirt she’s wearing, but it’s silk and there is some ascot looking thing around her neck.

  “You must be Ashlynn,” Bess starts, offering her a smile.

  At least that hasn’t changed.

  Girl’s still got a smile that can light up the whole damn world.

  “Who are you?” Ashlynn questions. Forcing myself to focus, I divert my attention to my daughter, watching as she stares curiously at Bess.

  “Baby, this is an old friend of Daddy’s. Her name is Be—”

  “Elizabeth,” Bess interjects quickly. “My name is Elizabeth.”

  My eyes snap to hers and instantly narrow in confusion. She doesn’t look at me, though, and I feel my body tense. The more I stare at her, the more I fight the urge to throw her over my shoulder and tell her to quit the facade. I’ve called her Bess since we were kids. Back when she was still in training bras and I was jerking off in a sock. She can wear all the fancy clothes she wants, but underneath the designer duds, she’s still my Bess. Just like beneath all this leather, I’m still Ryan fucking Perry.

  She finally meets my gaze and I silently raise an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.

  “No one calls me that.”

  No one but me.

  “I call you that.”

  “Yes, well, you’ve been gone a long time,” she deadpans, cocking her head to the side. There is no mistaking the challenge in her tone, daring me to argue and the second I hear it, I’m even more certain my Bess is buried somewhere in that body. In another time and place, I’d jump at the invitation. I’d chip away her defenses layer by layer and uncover everything I never let myself have. Everything I fucking wanted.

  All of her.

  Mind.

  Body.

  Soul.

  Even her heart.

  “Do you have any other luggage or is this it?” she asks, eyeing the two carry-ons I’m clutching.

  “This is it.”

  “Short visit then.”

  “You would know,” I retort. “Didn’t you book the tickets?”

  Ignoring my question, she smiles at Ashlynn.

  “We should get a move on. Your grandma is excited to see you.”

  “I talk to her on the phone sometimes, but I don’t remember her. Daddy says I met her once when I was a baby,” Ashlynn reveals. “We’re only visiting because my grandpa went to Heaven and Daddy says we have to.”

  Bess lifts her eyes to mine and shakes her head. I don’t get a chance to determine whether its disappointment reflected in her eyes or disdain because she turns on her heel and leads Ashlynn towards the exit. With no other choice, I tighten my grip on the suitcases and follow them. Those pants of hers might hide her legs but they hug her fucking ass in all the right places.

  It’s an ass made for fantasies and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend a better part of my adolescence staring at it.

  It’s also another facet of Bess that hasn’t changed.

  Thank fuck.

  Chapter Five

  T he ride to my parent’s house consisted of Ashlynn asking a thousand questions. Some I answered, others I grunted a response. Bess didn’t speak much but every now and then I’d catch her staring at Ashlynn through the rearview mirror. I wondered what went through her head when she looked at my little girl and if she knew about Tori. More importantly, I wondered if she even cared. Soon I found myself staring at more than just her face. I looked for any fucking sign that she was tied down to someone else, specifically a wedding band. Did she get the happily ever after she always wanted? The one that included a house with a picket fence, acres of land for her horses to run wild, three kids and a golden retriever.

  There was no band on her finger but that didn’t mean there was no man in her bed. The thought was daunting and for reasons I wouldn’t touch. Instead, I pushed the idea out of my head and when Bess pulled her car into the driveway of my parent’s sprawling ranch, I jumped out before she could kill the engine. Flipping my shades from the top of my head, I brought them down to the bridge of my nose, shielding my eyes from any eye rolls and helped Ash out of the backseat. I was rounding the back of the car to grab our bags from the trunk when my mother appeared at the front door.

  Dressed all in black, clutching a handkerchief, she was the picture-perfect widow. She was also the doting grandma who ran across the front yard in her heels to sweep her granddaughter into her arms. Leaving them to their reunion, I grabbed the bags from Bess’ trunk and slammed it shut. My mother’s eyes swung towards me and she grimaced at the sight of my leathers. I guess she was serious about leaving my kutte in the Empire State.

  Ask me if I give a fuck.

  Before my mother could criticize me, Bess’ father, Larry, offered me his hand. I lowered the suitcases to the floor and took his hand, greeted his wife, Sheila, and then looked back at Bess who was doing her damnedest to not meet my gaze. I knew I left Texas rather abruptly, and I made no attempt to keep in touch with her, but I still thought she’d be happy to see me. Hell, I was banking on it and to be honest, it might very well be the only reason I got on that fucking plane. I suppose that makes me a fool.

  We finally made our way out of the fucking heat and into the house where my mother had a spread of food laid out across the formal dining table. While my mother and Sheila continue to gush over Ashlynn, I decide to stuff my face. I’m just about to go for seconds when Bess enters the room, heading straight for the pitcher of sweet tea.

  Shoving a forkful of potato salad into my mouth, I watch as she takes a long drink. Her eyes find mine for a brief second before she glances at my mostly empty plate. I watch as she sets the glass on the table.

  “Your appetite hasn’t changed,” she says thoughtfully.

  “Once a man’s palette is wet for something, he doesn’t lose his appetite for it. Not unless his shit quits working, or he’s on his death bed.”

  Her cheeks go red and I grin before biting into a rib.

&
nbsp; That.

  I fucking missed that.

  It’s funny how you forget the things that made you wish for more tomorrows when they’re stuck in all your yesterdays.

  “I was talking about food.”

  “I wasn’t,” I say with my mouth full. Grabbing a paper napkin from the stack in the middle of the table, I wipe my mouth and push back my chair. As I rise to my full height, Bess takes several steps backward.

  “I…I’m just…I was just about to leave.”

  “What’s the rush?” I question, rounding the table. “We’re finally alone.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” she fires back.

  “If I remember correctly some of our best memories together happened when we shut ourselves away from the rest of the world.”

  “Yeah, well that was a long time ago, Ryan. Besides, we’re not really alone. Your daughter is in the next room and the only reason you’re here is because your father passed.”

  Stepping closer to her, I shrug my shoulders.

  “So you going to pass on the opportunity to tell me off.”

  “Why would I tell you off?”

  “I left, and I didn’t even bother to say goodbye. Judging by the ice you’re throwing at me; I think it’s fair to assume you harbor some resentment.”

  She scoffs.

  “That would imply I give a damn.”

  “No, it would imply that you did and all the fancy threads in the world can’t hide that,” I point out, lifting a hand to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. I stare into her blue eyes and I’m thrown by the sadness reflected in them. What I once called two bright stars are now dull. The light has been extinguished in them and fuck, I want to know why.

  Slapping my hand away, she steps around me.

  “Maybe you should concentrate on mourning your father,” she suggests. I turn and look at her, watching as she places a hand on her hip. Biting the inside of her cheek, she cocks her head to the side, assessing me. “Or are you still the same disgruntled asshole who blames everything on the people who love him.”

  “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel, Bess?”

  “I told you not to call me that,” she sneers.

  “Yeah, but you never told me why.”

  “I don’t have time for this,” she replies. Before she can walk away from me, I reach out and tag her wrist. Her steely gaze meets mine, and she tries to snatch her wrist back, but my fingers dig deeper into her skin. With one tug, I pull her closer. Her scent drifts past my nose, assaulting my senses, bringing me back to a place and time where it was us against the world.

  “I hurt you,” I admit softly.

  She opens her mouth to say something but quickly closes it and shakes her head, deciding against it. Instead, she pulls her wrist out of my grip and splays both palms against my chest, giving me a shove. I’m about to reach for her again when Ashlynn runs into the room and wraps her arms around my leg.

  “Daddy! You have to see the dresses and shoes grandma got me!”

  Diverting my attention to my daughter, I drop my hand to her strawberry blonde hair.

  “Just a minute…”

  “No, Daddy. Come on.”

  I lift my head to look back at Bess just as Ashlynn grabs my hand. My daughter starts to drag me towards the living room as Bess turns on her heel and struts right out of the room without so much as a goodbye.

  I don’t call out to her.

  I don’t say a fucking word.

  I let her walk away just like she let me walk away from her all those years ago.

  After all, payback is a bitch.

  Chapter Six

  S poiling Ashlynn with a new wardrobe was small potatoes for my mother and by the end of the night she had promised her a lavish trip to Disney World too. It was as if she was trying to make up for all the lost years with her granddaughter in mere hours. I wanted to tell her to stop promising Ashlynn shit, that she’s not the type of kid that needs to be bought, but I refrained. Ashlynn was enjoying her grandmother’s attention and my daughter seemed to be serving as a distraction to my mother’s grief. I knew it wouldn’t last, though. Eventually, my mother will fall apart. After all, isn’t that what spending forty years loving the same person will do to you?

  Yeah, I think I’ll pass and spare myself the heartache.

  Lifting the crystal glass, I watch as the amber liquid swirls around. My vision doubles and for a second, I try to remember if this is my fourth or fifth refill. Deciding it doesn’t really matter, I bring the glass to my lips and take a hefty gulp, welcoming the burn as it slides down my throat.

  “That was your father’s favorite whiskey.”

  At the sound of my mother’s voice, I draw the glass away from my lips and turn to face her. Dressed in her pajamas, without a stitch of makeup on her face, she looks like the woman who once tucked me into bed at night and read to me. The lines on her face depict the wear and tear of life but she’s still a looker.

  “You want one?” I offer.

  She shrugs her shoulders in a noncommittal matter and I move to the bar to pour her a shot, topping off my glass too because why the fuck not. I drop some ice cubes into hers before making my way towards her and offering her the whiskey. She gives me a small smile as she raises the glass to her lips and takes a small sip.

  “Ashlynn is a wonderful little girl, Ryan,” she comments. “Sharp as a tack and yet so curious. She spoke a lot about some woman named Ally. Is that your girlfriend?”

  I knock back the rest of my drink and let out a sarcastic chuckle before setting the empty glass on the coffee table.

  “You just can’t help yourself, can you?

  “Is it so horrible for me to want to know what your life is like? I’m your mother for crying out loud. Your father passed away wondering if you were living a good life. Now, I don’t think it’s too much to ask for one of us to know our only son is okay and unfortunately it’s too late for him.”

  Sighing, I take a seat on the recliner across from her and run my fingers along the worn leather covering the arm of the chair. My father used to love this chair. After dinner he’d always retreat to the living room and made himself just as comfortable as I currently am. The only difference is, he didn’t have to deal with my mother interrogating him. I lift my eyes to hers and watch as she takes another sip.

  “Ally goes out with one of my brother’s,” I explain, keeping it as simple as possible for her, knowing the term old lady would be completely lost on her. “She’s a nice girl, real great with Ashlynn and they get along just fine.”

  “I see,” she replies, taking another sip. “So, there’s no special lady in your life then.”

  Clenching my jaw, I shake my head at the question and decide it’s time for another drink or ten.

  “Let’s not do this,” I say, gritting my teeth.

  “Why not?” she challenges as I refill my glass. I contemplate chugging from the bottle, but my mother might have a heart attack and one funeral is enough. “I don’t blame you from steering clear of a relationship after Ashlynn’s mother, but it’s been years, Ryan.”

  “I get along just fine,” I mutter.

  “Oh, I’m sure you do,” she retorts. “That doesn’t mean you’re not lonely, or that something isn’t lacking from your life. These brothers you talk of, are any of them settled down?”

  Nearly all of them are, but I’m not about to tell her that.

  “Look, Ma—”

  “I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to settle down. In fact, I think Ashlynn would benefit from having a mother figure in her life.”

  That last comment grates on my nerves and causes me to slam the bottle against the liquor cabinet.

  “Enough,” I growl. “Ashlynn don’t need to get attached to anyone who won’t stick.”

  “The right girl will stick, Ryan, you just need to find her.”

  “I don’t need to do a goddamn thing!”

  “Watch your mouth,” she hisses. “I
won’t have you using the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “Fuck this,” I tell her. “This is exactly why I don’t bother with you,” I shout, pointing an accusing finger at her. “Quit meddling in my life.”

  “What life? You don’t have a life, Ryan. You exist. Nothing more and nothing less.”

  “Why because I’m not in a relationship? I’m perfectly content with my fucking life. I’m finally with a good club and for the first time since I started riding, I can honestly say I’m proud to be a Knight. I’m even prouder to call the men I ride with, my brothers. On top of that, I’m doing what I love. I know you don’t approve of anything I do, but I’m a fucking artist and my work means something to people. It means something to me.”

  “I’m not trying to criticize you,” she says softly.

  “Yeah, well, you could’ve fooled me,” I snap.

  “I think you’re a good father, Ryan. It’s not easy raising a child on your own and I think it’s even harder for a man to raise a daughter by himself.”

  She pauses and sets her glass down on the coffee table. Crossing the room, she stands in front of me and crosses her arms as she stares at me thoughtfully for a moment.

  “I want to help,” she says finally. “No, that’s not right,” she amends. “I want to be a grandmother. I don’t want Ashlynn to just know me as the lady who calls her once a week on the phone and sends her gifts on her birthday and at Christmas. With your father gone, I’m going to have a lot of time on my hands and nothing to do with it. I’d like for you to consider having Ashlynn spend the summer here in Texas.”

  Sure I heard her wrong, I quirk an eyebrow. Maybe I shouldn’t have done that last fucking shot.

  “She barely knows you,” I scoff.

  “I know and I want to change that. Now, I’m not suggesting you let her board a plane by herself. I’ll fly into New York once she’s finished with school, maybe spend a few days there. I’ll take her to a Broadway show. I bet she’d like that. Then, after we spend some time together there, she’ll fly back with me. It’ll give us a chance to bond and you a chance to live a little.”

 

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