by Bijou Hunter
“Pauline,” he sighs.
“You see family life as respecting boundaries and saying what makes people happy and treating everyone like they’re treasured but only in a sanitized way. I see family life as invading everyone’s privacy and saying whatever I feel and treating everyone as they’re treasured because they’re my family and thus special as compared to the rest of the world. I see a good family as loud and frantic and intrusive. Emmett fits into that life. He fits me, and I don’t want to change. Not for you or anyone. I’m deeply in love with myself, and Emmett respects that.”
“Rushing into marriage and kids is what led your mother to run away from Tumbling Rock.”
“I know, but I’m not her. I don’t have a dream to fix animal boo-boos. Loving Emmett and living close to my family are the only dreams I see as worth having.”
Dad struggles to find the right words for me to magically start thinking like him.
“You’re a smart girl, Pauline. I don’t want to see you waste all of your potential.”
“I know, but your dreams aren’t mine. You’ve always known I take after Mom more than I do you. None of this should come as a big surprise.”
I watch my father’s face go through all seven stages of grief. By the time he hits acceptance, I’ve played a few games of Candy Crush on my phone.
“If this is what you want, I’ll support you. If things change, I’ll help you then too.”
“Even if I run away from Emmett one day and need to move into your house with our giant kids?”
“Yeah, even then.”
“You’re a good dad. All the best fathers are compliant, you know?”
Dad fights a grin. “Yeah, you’ve been telling me that for years.”
“Only because it’s true. You know how I feel about lying.”
“Yes, Pauline, I do,” he says, clearly resigning himself to this new reality where he has a scary son-in-law and future scary grandchildren.
For the next ten minutes, I struggle to small talk with Dad. Moping now, he refuses to entertain me with tedious details of his dull life. I ask a billion questions, nearly begging him to bore me.
When none of my efforts light a fire under his ass, I fake a menstrual cramp and tell him we’ll talk soon. Dad only nods because he understands what I refuse to accept. We might only live a few states apart, but our lives will never truly intersect again.
48 Train Wrecks - Emmett
Donovan refuses to gloat, but his plan to focus the cops’ attention on Stephen paid off. When the parole officer showed up at the asshole’s place with a few sheriffs in tow, they found a stockpile of weapons and enough meth to charge him with distribution. Instead of rebuilding the Deacon Rollers, Stephen will end up with a long stretch in the state penitentiary.
“And I didn’t need to dig a shallow grave,” Court says, patting Donovan on the back as we stand in the clubhouse.
Floyd walks into the Tavern and makes a beeline for us. He hangs up the phone and smiles.
“The other Deacon guys are interested in playing nice now that their leader is going back to prison. They want to set up a meeting with us soon and talk.”
“Can we trust them?”
“These guys just want to be led. They’re not thinkers, and they have no options besides club life. I can’t imagine any of them going straight. We’re the only real game in town, and they sounded pretty starry-eyed about how you took out Stephen without getting your hands dirty. Shit both impressed and scared the shit out of them.”
We clap for Donovan who takes a dramatic bow any Earlham woman would appreciate.
“So problem solved?” I ask.
“That one anyway.”
Floyd glances around, probably wondering if we’re being watched. Court claims Joe has the place wired. The old bastard is paranoid of snitches and double agents.
“Think Joe will be ready to retire now that you’ve dealt with the Deacon crap?” I ask, not caring if our glorious president hears me.
Court gives me a disapproving frown, but I only laugh at his fears. What the hell will Joe do? He needs fresh blood, and we’re his legacy. No way will he kill me and piss off the club. Not to mention face Poppy’s wrath.
“Who would be your VP?” Floyd asks once we’re playing pool in a back room.
“I don’t know. Joe hasn’t said anything specific.”
“Of course, he hasn’t,” I grumble.
“Any of you interested?” Court asks.
Donovan pretends to be deaf while Floyd shakes his head. Court gives me a glance, but we both laugh at the idea of me being in charge of anything.
“I don’t even run the show between Poppy and me,” I admit.
“That doesn’t mean shit. Justice runs the show at home, but I have no problem calling the shots here.”
“I’m muscle. Nothing more complicated than that.”
“Well, I bet Joe has someone in mind.”
“I hope he shares the details with the rest of us before we’re old men like him.”
Court glares at me. “Just can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Of course, I can. I just don’t see any reason to try.”
Donovan grins at me, but Court is still playing the Boy Scout with his club president. If I was in the man’s place and did all the work he’d done the last few years, I’d have shoved Joe out of the way by now. Court is patient, though. Well, until he’s not. No doubt Joe better make things official before the quiet killer quietly takes control.
49 Train Wrecks - Poppy
Once Journey’s toenails shine with the wet polish, Matilda blows on them while I apply a pink coat to Justice’s toes. My mini helper and I switch places with her blowing again and my giving Journey a second layer of pink. Matilda finishes off our designs by making white dots on their big toes.
“Ta da,” I say and give Matilda a high-five. “We made them beautiful.”
Justice opens her arms so the little girl will sit with her. They cuddle on the couch and talk school just weeks away. Journey looks at her phone a million times. I know she’s worrying about Otto’s meeting with his “real” dad who suddenly decided he wanted to see his kid.
“He won’t show,” I say while brushing her hair. “Bet you a million billion dollars.”
“You’re probably right. He’s pulled this routine a dozen times since Becca went to prison and everyone outside of Tumbling Rock thought Otto’s grandma was raising him. Deep inside, the guy doesn’t want to be a dad. He’s only going through the motions.”
“Otto already has a real dad,” I point out. “Even if he’s sad when his bio one blows him off, he’ll come home and hang out with Donovan and know good people love him.”
Journey looks up at me and smiles. “You're so sweet today. Are you dying?”
“No. I just love when you’re pregnant. You seem softer and more perfect.”
“Emmett is making you weak,” Justice says. “I approve of that, but I’ll miss the mean-spirited, big mouth, bully Poppy too.”
I lean forward and frown at her face. “What’s that near your eye?”
“What?”
“It looks like, wait, are those wrinkles?”
Justice glares hard at me. “I didn’t miss it that much.”
“I don’t want to lose all of my edge now that I’m your slave for the next nine months. Well, assuming I don’t get knocked up and end up on the couch with you two.”
My sisters look at me in unison before Journey asks, “Is that a real possibility?”
“I don’t know. I mean we’re not using condoms, and we have sex a lot, and I’m young. Technically, that should lead to a baby, but maybe Emmett and I are like Chandler and Monica and don’t have the right baby making chemistry.”
Journey gives Justice a weird look. I continue brushing my oldest sister’s hair while they share their silent conversation. Behind us, a Harley approaches. A few minutes later, Jared enters the house.
“Zeb is heading this way on his new
bike,” Jared says, walking into the kitchen. “I passed Coretta driving this way too.”
Shrugging, I braid Journey’s hair. “Maybe they’ll crash into each other again.”
“Or they’re coming here to brighten our day,” Justice mutters.
“Christine bought him the bike. It’s possible Zeb wants to show it off to her.”
Finishing Journey’s hair, I frown. “But she’s not here.”
“They don’t know that.”
“Mom is never here at this time,” Justice says. “They’re not so old that they can’t tell time, are they?”
“How would I know?” Jared asks, making himself a sandwich.
“You’re only a few years younger than them, aren’t you, Stache?” I ask, fighting a grin. “You’re late for dinner a lot, so maybe telling time is something that fades with age.”
“Keep it up, and I’ll sic them on you, Pauline.”
“Save the threats for someone who won’t smear gum on your mustache while you sleep.”
“You wouldn’t,” Justice dramatically gasps. “That would be awful, and I would never want it to happen, but it’d also be funny as hell to witness the aftermath.”
“If you don’t mind climbing over your mother and my naked bodies to get the gum in my stache, have at it.”
Justice covers Matilda’s ears. “She’s still a child.”
“Don’t pull that with me. I heard you telling her to ask to sit with me, so she could nail me in the nuts.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have told me I was loud.”
Jared smirks and lifts his drink. “To all the women in my life.”
“You must have done something really bad in your last life for God to give you so many daughters,” I point out.
“No doubt. Then again, maybe the suffering in this life means I’ll have only boys in my next life.”
“You’ll still end up with gum in your stache,” I say, walking into the kitchen to start dinner. “Your precious sons will also probably kill you in your sleep.”
“Why in the hell would they do that?”
“Why are you asking me why men do what they do?”
Jared thinks to engage with me in a duel of egos, but we hear a car pulling up and know someone more obnoxious has arrived.
“Will you hide now?” I ask him.
“No. This is my house. If they don’t like it, they can leave.”
“Do you think they’re still… you know?” Justice makes a sexual hand gesture behind Matilda’s back.
“I have no idea.”
“Their love is eternal,” I say, peeking through the blinds.
“I have a theory,” Journey says, joining us in the kitchen, “that when Christine left town, Zeb and Coretta had no one to fight about. Without you as their target, they focused their nastiness on each other. Now you’re back with Christine, and they can team up to go after you again.”
Snickering, I pat his arm. “You’re their St. Valentine.”
Before Jared can reply, we hear Zeb fiddling with the doorknob. I consider ignoring the old bastard, but that’s not how I should treat family. Besides, he’ll just break a window and blame me for getting his hand bloody.
“Hello, Peepaw,” I say, opening the door.
“That baby weight looks good on you.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, then you best have a doctor look at your glandular problem.”
Pulling Zeb into a hug, I cradle his elderly frame against me. He struggles in my embrace, but my fat body refuses to free him.
“I’m going to miss you so much once you’re dead,” I murmur against him. “Oh, sweet, Peepaw. Why can’t you live forever?”
Zeb pinches my arm hard enough for me to let him go. I smile at his frowning face.
“Peepaw, it’s me, Poppy. Your granddaughter, remember?”
“Little bitches, all of you.”
From the couch, Justice nods. “Christine isn’t here, and Jared doesn’t want you in his house. Bye-bye and take care.”
Zeb glares at Jared who ignores him.
“I’m staying for dinner,” my grandfather declares and sits down with a loud thump.
“We’re out of food, Peepaw,” I say, leaning over to look him in the eye. “Do you need me to call someone to help you find your way home?”
“Go away.”
The sound of Coretta at the door sends Justice, Journey, and Matilda racing out the back door.
“Traitors,” Jared mutters.”
I open the door for Coretta, who frowns at me. “Took you long enough.”
“I was hiding my vibrators, Meemaw.”
Coretta gives me one of her death stares, forcing me to giggle my ass off. I laugh for so long she and Zeb begin picking at Jared. I’m still snickering about her bitchiness when Emmett arrives with Court.
My man bursts into the house like a tornado and sweeps me up for a sloppy, completely inappropriate kiss that I lengthen just to be a little bit more inappropriate and sloppy.
“Who’s the thug?” Coretta asks me.
“My husband.”
“If you got married, how come I wasn’t invited to the wedding?”
“You were, Meemaw,” I murmur. “You sat in the front row, remember?”
Coretta glances at a confused Zeb. “This one thinks she’s clever.”
“Christine didn’t raise them well.”
Winking at Emmett, I pull him over to the stove so I can cook while he feels me up.
“Did you have a good day on the road?” I ask, inhaling his sweaty scent.
“Yeah, baby. Those Deacon guys want to join our club. Court plans to make them jump through a lot of hoops before he lets them get too close, but it’s a nice change from them trying to kill us.”
“I bet it is,” I say, sliding my hand under his shirt.
“Have some dignity,” Coretta growls at us.
Zeb grunts in response. “Get a room if you need to rut.”
“Don’t mind if we do,” Emmett announces, taking me over his shoulder. “Jared, can you cook?”
The mustached thug exhales loudly. Not because he doesn’t want to cook, but he no doubt hates being stuck alone with these two charmers. Fortunately, Jared won’t leave a club brother hanging and agrees to finish dinner while Emmett carries me caveman-style to my bedroom.
50 Train Wrecks - Emmett
Poppy is a beautiful woman, and I’ll never want another. With that said, she’s lazy as hell in bed. Luckily, I don’t mind her zoning out while I do the hard lifting. Two years of waiting for access to this sexy body means I’ll never complain about a damn thing. Out loud anyway.
“Doggy-style leads to boy babies,” she says, fighting laughter. “I read that online, so you know it’s true.”
“Uh-huh.”
Pressing deeper inside her, I caress the soft flesh of her upturned ass. We worked out our earlier hunger in a fuck so fast Poppy never fully undressed. She’s always a bit slow about removing her panties, so I shoved them aside and licked her pink flesh until it was wet and ready.
“I read this helps,” she says, resting her head on her arms as if she’s ready for a nap. “Boy sperm are lazy and weak. I swear they can’t do anything themselves.”
“I’d be willing to have a girl if it meant you on top.”
“Why are you so lazy, Emmett?” she asks, glancing back at me with a mask of fake sincerity. “This is our son we’re talking about here. Now do all the work while I daydream about the dinner Jared’s cooking.”
Closing her eyes, I wonder if she’ll doze off on me. Just in case, I move faster and harder to keep her focused.
Humming my favorite Eagles song, Poppy remains the picture of beauty. When her eyes open slowly, and she smiles back at me, I’m done for.
Poppy’s all business once we search for our clothes. “My grandparents are awful people. It’s what makes them so entertaining. Unfortunately, they’ll dig at you endlessly because you’re another Jared in
their eyes.”
“It'll be okay, baby. My old neighbors were super old, and they would accuse me of stealing their flowers. I have no idea what they thought I did with the flowers, but more than once, the lady hit me with her cane as I walked by their house. The old bat really loved her fucking flowers.”
“Did she hurt you?” Poppy asks, rubbing my head while I pull on my jeans. “My poor sweet Emmett would be Einstein if people weren’t always bashing in his brain.”
I respond to her teasing by giving her a pat on the ass. Poppy gasps in feigned horror and then runs out of the room.
Following her, I find myself back in the kitchen where Zeb and Coretta remain. The two old timers turn their gazes to me and lock on target.
“You’re in Jared’s thug gang, aren’t you?” Coretta asks.
“What?” I mumble, shaking my head as if I’m confused.
“You’re a biker thug,” Zeb says.
I look around, playing the stupid fucker routine, and then smile at Zeb and Coretta.
“Okay. That’s a good idea,” I tell them.
Joining Poppy at the stove, I kiss her smiling lips.
“My poor befuddled Hoss,” she whispers.
“How would you like it if I kept calling you by your dad’s name?”
“You’d just be saying the first half of my legal name, so I think I’d be fine.”
“Well, all right then, Paul.”
“You’re so sexy, Hoss.”
Groaning, I wrap her in my arms. “What do I need to do to make you stop calling me Hoss?”
“Let me choose our first baby’s name.”
“It won’t be something sissy, will it? I can’t have a son named Gale or some damn thing.”
“Nothing sissy. I promise.”
“Well, all right then. But no more Hoss.”
“Who’s Hoss?” she says, patting my gut. “Dinner is nearly ready thanks to King Thug here.”
Jared blinks a few times before leaving the safe space in his head where he hid while alone with his rude former in-laws.
“Your mom helped. She’s taking a shower now.”