Chapter 7
What do you like? I like romantic walks down the gun aisle.
-Jessie to Big Papa
Jessie
“Oh, my God,” I grunted and hung up the phone. “This is a fuckin’ nightmare.”
I placed my hands on my head and leaned both elbows on my knees as I tried to get my mind to wrap around what I’d just heard.
“What is?” Linc asked as he came in the room.
I looked up and studied my son.
He was tucking his crisp white dress shirt into his jeans, but his eyes were on me.
This was making me sick.
Margot had showed up in my life—and Linc’s—like she always did. Only this time, I couldn’t shield him from her. She’d gotten to him first, and hooked him in with her lies and promises.
Now he was adamant on spending time with her, and I had no choice but to let him, or I’d look like the bad guy.
“I’m going to tell you this as nicely as I can, but your mother just asked me if I would send some money with you because she can’t pay rent.”
Linc opened his mouth to reply, but I held up my hand, halting what I knew was about to come out of his mouth.
“When you were a year and a half, she borrowed money from her mother, and by borrowed, I mean she stole her mother’s jewelry, hocked it at a pawn shop, and then bought coke with the money.”
His mouth snapped shut.
“Twelve years ago, your mother called me to ask me for money so she could pay off her car note. I sent it to her because I felt sorry for her,” I continued. “I followed her, though, because she pocketed the money and was so fucking jittery that I knew that she wasn’t going to put that money on her car note. I watched her walk into a drug dealer’s house, make a deal with him, and then drive off without once even noticing I was watching her. But before she drove away, she shot up in the car.”
He sighed. “What do you want me to tell her?”
“What I want for you to do is to not go there at all. I’d rather you didn’t associate with the woman who’s just going to try to use you to get back at me. I wish you’d use common sense, open your eyes and see that your mother is not the kind of mom you want her to be.”
Linc’s lips thinned.
“She’s not a good person, but all I can do at this point is let you figure that out for yourself,” I grunted as I came to my feet. Everything hurt. Everything always hurt. “When she asks you for the money that she asked me for, just tell her that I didn’t have it. Don’t tell her anymore or any less than that. Also,” I held out my hand. “Give me your wallet.”
His brows rose.
“Trust me. I know your mother,” I told him. “Just give it to me.”
He held out his wallet, which was nearly identical to mine. It even had a chain that hooked it to his pants exactly like mine did.
My kid was my kid, through and through. He wanted to be just like me, and sometimes that was scary shit.
Why he would want to do that was beyond me. I wasn’t a bad person, but I wasn’t the best guy either. I’d done things in my life I wasn’t proud of. Made bad decisions that came back to haunt me later on. And, if I was being honest, I wanted better for my son than I had. I wanted him to go to college. I wanted him to play professional football. I wanted things for him that I never got the chance to even dream of when I was his age.
I took Linc’s wallet and extracted his credit card, debit card and all of the money except for a twenty-dollar bill.
“She tries to make you pay, say that you only have twenty dollars. Pull it out, hand it to her, and put the wallet back into your pocket,” I told him. “Don’t leave it on the table. Don’t fall for the ‘oh, what’s that?’ as she points in the opposite direction so she can check your wallet before she throws it on the floor. Also, as a precaution, give me your keys. You can take my old truck today.”
Linc’s eyes widened.
“But…you never let me drive that!”
That was true.
My truck was old. It was fast. And it was mine.
Linc had his own car, a 2014 Dodge Challenger. I’d begged, cheated, scraped the bottom of my barrel, and cajoled the dealership into selling me that car on my shit credit. And one bank had given me the loan, thank fuck.
It didn’t matter that I had money now. It mattered that, over the last seven years, I’d come to a point where I couldn’t pay my mortgage for four months, six different times. That I was late on credit card bills, and had some that were getting paid off, but were still a long ways away from having a zero balance.
It’d taken me quite some time to realize that credit cards weren’t the answer. Unfortunately for me, that was a little too late to make a difference on my credit score.
“Why?” he asked as I handed him over my keys.
“Because it looks like a piece of shit, even if it isn’t. Your mom would see dollar signs if she saw your car,” I told him. “She doesn’t need to know that it has a few miles on it. She will only see a cash cow, and she’ll try everything to get you to give it to her. When you refuse, she’ll try to steal your keys. And when she can’t do that, she’ll come over at night.” I hesitated. “Probably should start putting it in the garage. Make sure you clean out the clutter this weekend and start doing that.”
Linc’s lips started to lift in a sardonic smile.
“You know her well, don’t you?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, didn’t like it, tried to return it, but they wouldn’t take it back.”
Linc’s lips quirked. “Well, I’ll be going then. I’ll call you and let you know when I’m home.”
I clapped him on the back as I walked him outside, nearly laughing my ass off when he clapped his hands in glee as he walked up to my old truck.
“You could always take your old bike, too. It’d serve the same purpose.”
Linc tossed an ‘are you kidding me?’ look over his shoulder and yanked open the door.
The outside was nothing special.
Outwardly, the 1978 Chevy C-10 appeared to be old, beaten up, and on its last leg.
It was the inside that counted.
Under the hood of that old truck sat a 454 big block that growled like a stalking panther. One slight touch of the gas pedal and you were going fifty miles an hour without even blinking. At stop lights, you had to put the beast into neutral to keep the motherfucker still. If you forgot what you were doing just for a second, it was trying to shoot you into oncoming traffic.
Linc had driven it all of three times, and each time I’d been in the truck with him to tell him what to do.
Now, he was sitting in the driver’s seat, petting the steering wheel like it was a cat.
“Stop feelin’ her up and get your ass into gear. I can tell you from experience that your mother’s a bitch to deal with when you’re late.”
I remembered that vividly, actually.
The one and only time I’d been late, due to Linc puking all over my lap when he was about a year old, she’d freaked out on me the moment I’d walked into the restaurant door.
She didn’t care that Linc had been running a slight fever. Didn’t care that I’d gotten there as fast as I could and had even called her to let her know I’d be late.
No, all she’d cared about was tearing me a new one for showing up late and humiliating her by standing her up.
“We’re just going to the Dairy Queen,” Linc said.
I didn’t laugh.
I just held up my thumb but didn’t tell him that we’d just been going to the Dairy Queen.
Let him realize his mom’s faults on his own time.
Big Papa’s words meant more than he knew.
If I could, I’d save my kid from all of his mother’s shit. I’d take him away, shield him and make sure he never realized what an asshole his mother was.
Linc hadn’t seen her in years, and the last tim
e hadn’t been pleasant. But through the eyes of a kid, a parent can do no wrong, and unfortunately for me, Linc didn’t remember how bad those times he’d seen his mother had been.
But Linc was his own man now. He wanted to make his own decisions.
And even if they were wrong, I’d let him make the mistakes.
There was no other way to learn from your wrongs if you didn’t make any.
Linc started my truck up, and immediately started to laugh at the roar of the engine.
“Can you handle it?”
He grinned and nodded.
“I’m headed out with the club. If you need me at all, call me, okay?”
Another nod.
I ruffled his hair, causing him to curse, and me to smile.
There were, at least, a few things in life that were constant. My love for Linc, and my want for other things.
Things that included a certain brown-haired beauty that was never far from my mind.
***
An hour into our evening, shit hit the fan.
Ghost, one of the longest standing members of The Dixie Wardens MC- Alabama Chapter, was visibly distraught.
I didn’t know much about the man.
He wasn’t the easiest guy to get to know, and he had the most intimidating stare of all of the members.
I was able to get along with even Sean now, but Ghost was still a mystery to me.
He didn’t talk. Didn’t often attend parties, even the ones that were family-oriented. Didn’t even like being in the club as far as I could tell.
But I’d been in the club for a mere eight months. Likely, there was something more going on, and what I saw with my own eyes was clouding my judgment.
Even Big Papa had said that Ghost was acting weird.
But I’d never seen him like this.
“I need to ride somewhere, and I need all of you to go with me.”
Aaron, Truth, Tommy Tom, Fender, Sean, Big Papa and me all stared.
“Whatever you need, man. And we’re there,” Tommy Tom was the one who spoke.
“We’ll stay back with the ladies. You go ahead and do what you need to do,” Fender pointed to me.
My brows rose, but I realized that, due to my son seeing his mother, it was probably wise to stay back for the backlash that I knew was coming, despite my desire to go with them.
My eyes trailed over to Ellen, and my stomach clenched.
God, she was beautiful.
She was nothing like Margot.
Where Margot was blonde, blue-eyed and mean as a snake, Ellen was the exact opposite.
She had tanned skin, brown hair that looked like fire when she was in the sun, and hazel eyes that changed from the greenest green to the darkest brown, depending on the day and season. She dressed so cute and prissy, while Margot wouldn’t be caught dead without a midriff baring halter top—regardless of whether it was fifty fucking degrees out or not.
But what I loved the most about Ellen—yes, I fucking said loved, always have, always will—was the way she never stopped smiling. She never got down, even if everything in her life was turning to shit. By me—mostly. By her mom. By Margot. It didn’t matter what happened, Ellen never got down.
Except, apparently, for today.
She looked fucking tired. Like she was defeated and barely holding herself upright.
“That okay with you?”
I looked up to find Sean staring at me.
“Sure,” I said without even knowing what I’d just agreed to.
“Good. Take Tally’s Tahoe. Everyone should fit into it sans you two. Keep them at the clubhouse until we figure out what the fuck to do afterward.”
I nodded once.
Though, I knew for a fact that the ladies would only remain still for so long. They all had jobs. They all had lives. And most of them had kids who wouldn’t like being cooped up for more than a day.
Twenty minutes later, the ladies were all loaded.
Both in the physical sense, since they were in the Tahoe, and in the inebriated sense since they’d been drinking quite a bit tonight. Though none of them were completely sloshed, thank fucking God.
“Ready, Freddy!
Me, I’d be angry or discontent. Naomi? She just rolled with the punches.
Ellen, however, was a silent presence in the back seat and wouldn’t even look at me.
“You okay?”
That was only directed at one person, and she turned her head slowly to give me her eyes, and what I saw there was enough to steal my breath straight out of my lungs. Again.
“Yeah,” she lied. “Fine.”
I didn’t believe her for a second.
But did I say anything? No. I let her stew. And being left to stew, she became more and more mad, and I should’ve known that the pot would boil over.
Fuck.
Chapter 8
I went for a walk today because I stress eat and hated myself a little bit. I took a bag of M&Ms with me because I needed something to motivate myself to walk in the first place. Ate a piece every ten seconds. Sometimes life is all about balance.
-Ellen’s real life thoughts
Jessie
I don’t know how it happened.
One minute I was sitting in the living room, flipping through the channels on the TV in the main room of the clubhouse with Ellen sitting on the couch perpendicular to me, and the next she was making a weird sound in her throat.
I turned to look at her, and the moment our eyes met, she broke down into sobs and ran from the room.
She was crying so hard that it took everything in me not to go to her. Not to follow the sound of her sobs into the hallway where she’d been given a room for the night.
My eyes went to the screen, and I realized that the movie that we’d watched hundreds of times so long ago when we’d been together was now playing on the big screen.
And I closed my eyes in dismay.
Shit.
I got up and walked down the hall, knowing that this was one of those times where I needed to fix this.
I couldn’t do this anymore.
I had to explain my reasoning.
Surely if she knew, she’d agree.
She’d realize that I wasn’t staying away from her to break her. Not to humiliate her. Not because of Sean. I was doing it to save her, dammit!
‘“Ellen,” I started to say, pushing her cracked door open slightly.
She was lying on the bed, her face buried in a pillow, trying to stifle the sounds of her sobs.
I felt sick to my stomach.
She held her hand up, trying to stop me from coming in, but I ignored her.
I did, however, leave the door open for her to have some semblance of openness, as if I weren’t shutting her in and forcing the issue.
“Get out,” she cried.
I came forward, not stopping until my knees hit the bed.
I lifted one knee and planted it into the bed, then leaned over until I could brush her hair away from her face.
I was such an idiot.
All this time I was protecting her and never once had it occurred to me that I was hurting her even worse in the process.
Sure, I’d realized she was sad.
But she had put on a good front these last few months. Ever since our parting comments that last night we were alone together, I’d stayed away.
She’d opened up her business. She’d kicked ass. She’d shown up at MC parties.
And overall, I thought she was getting better.
Then Sweet Home Alabama comes on, reminding us of old times, and suddenly she loses it.
Though, if I admitted as much, that movie had been a killer to watch over the years. Each and every time it came on, I changed the station.
Even now, I had each and every line memorized.
It’d been a movie that she’d fallen in love with, and I’d watched it with her because it made her happy.
&nb
sp; Now, though, it was obvious that it didn’t.
Maybe she’d had the same problem over the years when it came to that movie as I did.
“Ellie,” I started to say.
She shot up off the bed and glared at me.
“Don’t call me that. And get the hell out.” She pointed to the door.
“It’s my room,” I countered, crossing my arms over my chest and standing there against her anger.
She ignored me and sat down on the bed, pulling her phone out to ignore me as if that would make me go away.
I felt my phone buzz, and I pulled it out to see a text from Ellie on the screen.
Ellen (8:24 PM): I need you to leave me alone. You’re breaking me. I need to be let off the hook.
And suddenly, I was just as pissed as she was.
“You don’t deserve to be let off the hook,” I said in response to her message.
She stood up and whirled around, confusion on her face.
Then her mouth dropped open as realization dawned.
“All of this time,” she whispered.
I deserved everything she threw at me and more as I read the destruction on her face.
“I fuckin’ hate you,” Ellen growled out.
I gritted my teeth. “Well, I don’t hate you, even though I should.”
Her mouth opened and she stared at me with confusion.
Then, like the dumbass that I was, I went right off the cliff.
There was no pussy-footing around the bush for me. No, I jumped whole hog into the middle of it, telling her exactly what I was thinking.
“I’m not the only one to blame in this situation,” I told her. “You broke me just as much as I broke you.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“How many times did you tell your mother that we were just friends?” I challenged her.
Her mouth snapped shut.
“Yeah,” I said. “And how many times did you hide us? Jessie, get in the closet so she doesn’t know you’re here. Jessie, let’s go to the next town over so no one will see us,” I mimicked her voice. “Any of those sound familiar?”
Her lips thinned.
“I loved you.”
I laughed a humorless laugh. One that hurt to hear, even from my ears.
“You loved me?” I snarled, my control breaking. “You loved me so much that you moved on within a week. When I came back to apologize, to tell you why I had to go, you were with someone.”
The Beard Made Me Do It (The Dixie Warden Rejects Book 5) Page 6