Fear the Beard (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 2)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  “They were…at the staff meeting you always manage to miss.”

  I snorted, then started to chuckle.

  “It’s the same night as church,” I told her innocently.

  “It’s every other Tuesday,” she murmured. “Church is on Wednesday and Sunday.”

  I grinned. “I wasn’t talking about religion.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Go to work, Dr. Tommy.”

  I did, and the entire time I worried about how I was going to tell Tally that her best friend was a bitch without hurting her.

  Which had to be the reason I was in such a foul mood when she stopped me in the parking lot.

  It’d been twelve total hours with her on shift with me, and I knew I couldn’t hold the anger in any longer.

  Not when she was in need of a friend and didn’t even know it.

  She’d been sending me smiles ever since Lucia had left, as well as secret touches when nobody was looking.

  When she stopped me in the parking lot by placing her hand on my tattooed forearm, I pulled away, trying to hold strong.

  “What do you want?” I growled, trying to yank my hand back from her.

  I’d been so lost in thought as I made my way outside that she’d startled me into reacting before I’d had a chance to control my features.

  It wasn’t the hurt look that flittered across her face that made me stop and back pedal.

  It was the anger as she glared at me.

  “I have two more weeks, Thomas Tomirkanivov,” I snapped. “You can wait until I feel comfortable to have this type of relationship with you. Until then, we’re going to be friends when we’re not completely alone…and together when we are. If that means being in front of your club, that’s fine. I’m not comfortable being open about us in front of Hadley, and you can’t be mad at me for that. You said yourself that you didn’t find her trustworthy.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  She was right.

  Fucking dammit.

  “Fine.”

  She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers at me.

  “My parents are heading out of town today for the weekend. I’d like it very much if you came to stay with me…or vice versa.”

  “My older sister is coming into town, along with my parents for Ellen’s birthday,” I murmured. “I can’t stay tomorrow afternoon…but you’re welcome to come with me.”

  She blinked, then nodded.

  “I think I’d like that,” she admitted softly.

  My lips twitched.

  “You’ll come to my place?” she whispered. “Around eight?”

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “I’ll be there…do I need to bring anything?”

  She smiled then, brilliant and blinding.

  “No,” she shook her head. “Just an empty stomach.”

  My traitorous belly decided to start growling again, causing her to giggle.

  “See you in a few, Hungry.”

  I growled and took a step forward, causing her to jump and run, giving me a nice view of her ass as she ran toward her car.

  Her SUV that had new tires, and what looked like a new paintjob, though it was hard to tell in the near darkness.

  “Bye!” she called as she dropped inside.

  I watched her go, not moving a muscle until I could no longer see her taillights.

  And only then did I head to my bike, and toward my new, empty house.

  On the way, I entertained the thought of having a woman who was over ten years younger than me, making my house a home.

  Complete with a small pair of feet toddling around, filling it with giggles and happiness.

  Chapter 19

  If she starts removing her earrings while maintaining eye contact, you’re either in for the fuck of your life, or you better run. Either way you’re screwed.

  -Fact of Life

  Tommy

  I arrived at Judge Slater’s house, aka my old house, two hours later.

  This was a very bad idea.

  I knew that.

  But did it stop me from coming? From walking up to Judge Slater’s door even though he’d once had a restraining order against me? Hell no.

  Knowing he wasn’t here was a good reason for that, though.

  Knocking on the door and thinking about how odd it was to see this side of the door, I waited for long minutes while screaming sounded from inside, before letting myself in.

  “Tally?” I called over the din of a very upset baby.

  Tally called out something, and I followed the noise, ignoring the ache in my chest at seeing this house so different than it once was, and headed straight for the back bedrooms.

  I passed what used to be Ellen’s room, and then Sonya’s, finally arriving at my old one.

  It was now pink.

  Very pink.

  “What’s up?” I asked around the lump in my throat, my eyes automatically going to Tally where she was holding Tallulah against her chest looking haggard and beautiful.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned. “Thank God you’re here.”

  Then she gave Tallulah to me, and I automatically took her, bringing her into my chest, and blinked as she left the room.

  And didn’t come back.

  Tallulah stopped screaming the moment she was in my arms, her eyes still pouring tears, as she stared at me.

  “What’s wrong, pumpkin head?” I asked her, wiping a few of her tears from her big blue eyes away with the pad of my thumb.

  She’d grown exponentially since the last time I’d seen her. She was definitely a much heftier weight than she’d been the last time I’d held her like this.

  “She’s not feeling well…” Tally said as she pointed at the floor.

  So that was what the smell was.

  “You have an upset tummy, pumpkin head?” I whispered roughly.

  The thought of this little girl being sick was enough to bring me to my knees.

  “She’s apparently been sick all day, but my mother never called me to tell me.” Tally dropped down to her knees next to a puddle of throw up, and cleaned it like she’d done it dozens of times before. “Though, I assume that’s because she wants me to graduate.”

  I snorted and took Tallulah out of the bedroom I assumed used to be Tally’s and was now a little mixture of them both, and straight to the bathroom where I stripped her and placed her on the counter next to the sink.

  My mom always used to say that the sink in this bathroom was made for washing babies, and it’d seen many a’ babies in its lifetime. It was a stainless-steel farm sink, about half the size of what you would see in a kitchen.

  It was just as deep, though, and I’d always wondered why my mom and dad had put it in here. It was more suited for a laundry room than a bathroom, but as I turned the water on, and made sure the water was on the lukewarm side of hot, I realized exactly why she’d done it.

  To put babies in; exactly what she’d said hundreds of times.

  It was something that I never quite understood the significance of until I placed Tallulah in it a short two minutes later.

  “Bath?” I asked the small girl, dunking her hand under the water, causing her to smile slightly.

  She looked sick.

  Her skin was pallid, and her eyes had deep bruises underneath her lids.

  Her hair was even a mess of curls.

  “Isn’t this sink awesome?” Tally asked from behind me.

  Yes, yes it was very awesome.

  I cleared my throat. “Yep.”

  She placed her hand on my shoulder.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Only my heart breaking.

  “No.” I handed Tallulah a loofah, which she dunked under the water and immediately brought up to splash water everywhere. “A long, long time ago, there was a bad boy.”

  She looked at me like I was crazy.

  “A long time ago?” she teased. “You’re not now?”


  I pinched her ass. “Hush and let me tell a story about the boy I used to be.”

  She pantomimed zipping her lips shut, and then throwing away the key over her shoulder.

  “I’m zipped,” she informed me.

  I gave her a pointed look, and she started to giggle.

  “I’m done, I promise,” she assured me.

  I gave her a look that clearly said that I didn’t believe her.

  “The boy was too smart for his own good, and decided to do something stupid when he realized that his parents lost their house.”

  Tally’s head tilted to the side, and then her eyes filled with understanding.

  “You’ve already told me this.”

  I nodded.

  “But what you don’t know, and what I didn’t want you to know, is that I made your father’s life a living hell.”

  Her eyes widened, and then understanding dawned, and the compassion went out in her eyes.

  “I never put two and two together…” she moaned. “It was you!” she hissed and stood back, pointing a soapy finger at me in accusation.

  I nodded.

  The tone of her voice, as well as the way she was crossing her arms over her chest let me know real quick that she knew exactly who I was to her father.

  Exactly what it was I’d done to him.

  Exactly how much I’d hurt her by admitting that one single fact.

  “You made my dad’s life a living hell,” she accused.

  I nodded, not defending myself. “It was bad, I’ll admit.”

  “Bad?” she asked incredulously, snatching a towel down off the rack from behind her and walking toward Tallulah in quick, angry strides.

  I waited to see what she was going to do and she didn’t disappoint.

  The moment that she turned around, she threw the towel in my face.

  “My dad didn’t want to get a restraining order against you.” She said through gritted teeth. “From what little information I was able to gather when I was younger, and over the years, you were a complete asshole.”

  I caught the towel and stuffed it under my arm, waiting to see what she’d throw next.

  Which happened to be a rubber duck in the shape of some ugly snowman aimed at my face.

  I caught that, too, and got a face full of soapy water for my trouble.

  “Tally…”

  “I invited you into his house!”

  I sighed.

  “I was an asshole,” I told her. “I’m not that same kid anymore.”

  “You weren’t a kid, though, were you?” she accused. “You were an adult.”

  “I was sixteen when I went to college. Seventeen when I found out my parents lost the house,” I started explaining.

  “Did you get with me to stick it to him?”

  The question stunned me so much that I stared at her in disbelief.

  “I didn’t…no!” I barked. “I would never do that to you. Not to you, and definitely not to her. I would never bring a child into a situation like that…and I’m not that same person anymore. I swear on my life. I’ve turned my ass around. Bought my parents a house to make up for doing shitty stuff when I was younger…I was an asshole. I know I was.”

  “Why?” she asked curiously.

  Questions were good.

  It meant she was listening to what I had to say instead of just dismissing me altogether.

  “I was bullied, starting in junior high and all through high school. I was that kid who everyone had a turn at, making sure he had a completely miserable school experience. I was that kid that you read about in the news who kills themselves…except I channeled those feelings into harming others instead of self harm.”

  She blinked in surprise.

  “I got awesome grades—all As. I had a three point nine nine seven grade-point-average. Then to make matters worse, I made the varsity swim team my last year of high school…and it was the guy who was biggest asshole of them all who I beat out for first spot at swim meets.”

  She blinked.

  “I can’t quite picture you as a swimmer…you’re too…muscular.”

  I grinned, my mouth twitching into some semblance of a smile.

  “Then I got out of high school and left to start college. One weekend I tried to come home only to find my home, the house I grew up in, was no longer our house.”

  Her eyes went wide.

  “Why didn’t your parents tell you what was happening?” she breathed.

  Tallulah chose that moment to projectile vomit across the room.

  Luckily, we were still in the bathroom and she was facing away from the door so it mostly hit the bathtub—otherwise someone would’ve had to figure out how the hell to get puke chunks out of shaggy carpet.

  “What did she eat today?” I asked, stopping my explanation.

  “Nothing,” Tally said instantly. “Mom said that she tried to get her to have a few bottles, then tried to get her to eat her favorite baby food—peaches—but she refused everything.”

  “Got any Pedialyte?” I asked, leaving the bathroom to head to the kitchen.

  Tally followed behind me at a slower pace, stopping beside the large, butcher-block topped island—which was new, I might add—and watched me move around the kitchen.

  “No, not any Pedialyte.”

  I opened the fridge and saw some prune juice, which she most certainly shouldn’t have at this juncture, some orange juice, what I assumed was some tea, and some Gatorade.

  Pulling out the Gatorade, I lifted my eyebrows at her in question.

  She pointed to a cabinet, and I moved to it, pulling the doors open and reaching for a bottle all the while I continued explaining.

  “As for why my mom didn’t tell me, she didn’t know how to tell me,” I explained. “Mom and Dad are proud people, and since I was such a momma’s boy, and mom was so embarrassed that it had come to this, she didn’t know how to tell me, I guess, so they just didn’t.”

  “That’s terrible,” Tally whispered.

  “Terrible, yes,” I agreed. “But that didn’t give me the right to be a complete asshole.”

  Her mouth kicked up in a small smile.

  “I was such an asshole back then that if you had looked up the definition in the dictionary, my sixteen-year-old graduation picture would be there right beside it.” I poured the yellow Gatorade into the bottle and screwed the lid on, handing it to her as I continued. “I got back into town and came straight here. I walked up to the front door, slid my key in…and nothing. It didn’t work. I couldn’t get in, and when I knocked on the door—loudly because I was pissed off—your dad answered. I hate to admit it, but I was a complete and utter dickhead to him.”

  Her mouth twitched. “Dad doesn’t like to be bothered.”

  I gave her a wan smile. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  She took the bottle I handed her, and then thought better of it.

  “I have to go clean up that throw up before it starts to permanently attach itself to the shower wall…” she handed Tallulah over and waited for me to get her situated before she handed me the bottle.

  Before I could even give the bottle to Tallulah, Tally was gone, and seconds later I could hear the shower going.

  “Your momma’s so pretty,” I told the baby in my arms.

  Tallulah didn’t even toss me a smile, which made my heart hurt.

  Placing the bottle to her lips, I hooked my foot around the bar stool that was pushed under the overhang of the counter and pulled it to me, taking a seat once I had it in place.

  Tallulah started to slowly take her bottle, and she was about halfway done when her eyes started to flutter closed.

  I leaned the bottle against my chest and reached my free hand up to rub along her head, running my fingers along her messy hair.

  “She looks so small in your arms.”

  ***

  Tally

  “She looks so small in your ar
ms,” I said to the man who was making my ovaries quiver.

  Tommy’s head snapped up, and he grinned, making my heart melt.

  I was still pissed.

  Actually, I was beyond pissed.

  This man that was standing in front of me was the reason that my father had freaked out over so many incidents throughout the years.

  I’d thought my father’s irrational anger at Tommy when he’d dropped me off the day after all the flooding had been because Tommy was older, tattooed and in a motorcycle club.

  But, apparently, it hadn’t been just about that. No, it had been about a heck of a lot more than that. Stuff that I had no way to control my father’s reaction to.

  I couldn’t even ask my father to try.

  He had tried.

  I knew my father.

  He wouldn’t have gotten a restraining order against Tommy had he not done something bad…repeatedly.

  But seeing him standing there, his tattooed arm gently cradling Tallulah’s sleeping body, her hand and cheek pressed up against the leather cut that Tommy never left the house without, I knew that I couldn’t let my father push Tommy away.

  Seeing him with Tallulah tonight, I knew that I was in love with him, despite his admissions.

  He’d walked right into the bedroom, ignored the puke that was not only all over Tallulah, but me and the floor as well, and had taken her from me. Slipped her right into his arms like she didn’t stink to high heaven.

  He’s insinuated himself into my life and hers and didn’t appear to have any qualms about doing so.

  Then he’d dropped a bombshell on me. Slayed me, making me think that it was all a big lie for a few long, tense moments.

  But when he’d started to explain, and as I started to recall some of the memories from that time, I remembered my dad saying something about a troubled kid.

  And in later years, I knew for a fact that Dad thought that the kid who he got the restraining order against had just been a troubled young man that needed some time to cool off.

  What I hadn’t remembered was hearing anything about us taking that kid’s family home…and I wasn’t sure if my father even knew that part. I know that if he had taken the time to understand why the kid had been acting the way that he was, he would’ve done things differently.

  Like not getting a restraining order against a kid who was pissed about his family’s house being foreclosed on by the bank and someone else buying it all without his knowledge.