Bear Trap

by Bijou Hunter

  Chapter Twelve

  Finnish Variation of Louisa: Loviisa

  ➸ Clove ☆

  I’m useless with a cast on my leg. Showering is a pain. Getting up and down the stairs is such a pain in the ass. In fact, Glitch carries me both ways once a day. If I need anything before the end of the day, I’m plumb the fuck out of luck unless someone is willing to act as my servant.

  I wish Glitch could remain with me at the townhome all day, but he has work to do at the rental houses. The club plans to finish up everything before the new guy arrives and their focus turns to him.

  Bored during the day, I crash at different townhomes. Today, Cayenne provides my entertainment.

  Cayenne’s townhome is Duffy-proof. Alarms and special locks on each outside door keep the seven-year-old from escaping. Unlike the rest of our townhomes with hardwood floors, this one is carpeted to lessen injuries to a tantruming Duffy. The furniture is extra plush for the same reason. Upstairs, Duffy’s closet is a padded quiet room for when the kid goes ballistic and needs to lash out.

  As much as I love the dark browns and exotic décor of my townhome, I can’t deny Cayenne’s pale pastels are relaxing. I settle onto the couch and smile at her.

  “The kids sure decorated your cast,” Cayenne says, tapping my leg before sitting down and studying me a little too much.

  “What’s up?”

  “I heard you’re thinking about therapy.”

  Exhaling, I shrug. “Ginger told you that, huh?”

  “She overreacts, but the Cinnamon episode left her reeling.”

  “I’m not Cinnamon.”

  “I know.”

  “I just want to get some things off my chest.”

  “And you need to. That’s why I’m offering my services.”

  “Are you coming on to me again, Cayenne?” I tease, giving her a wink. “I know you’re hard up for dick, but, honey, I’m not into girls. Though Anise’s moving down here in a few weeks, and she’ll hit anything.”

  Cayenne crosses her arms and gives me her best irritated-mom look. “Are you done being a pain in the ass?”

  “For now.”

  “Did you know that Pepper occasionally freaks out about having a kid? She doesn’t want to dump her feelings on Bay, so she comes here and talks to me. I’m her therapist. I even give her homework.”

  “What kind of homework?” I ask, curious now.

  “I had her watch videos of babies crying so she can get over her terror at having one of those screaming things in her life.”

  “Will I get homework too?”

  “Depends on what bothers you. During Bay’s sessions, she mostly bitches about the rest of you and how you’re all idiots. She doesn’t really need homework. She only needs to vent.”

  “How am I an idiot?” I grumble.

  Cayenne winks. “Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

  “And what do you get out of it?”

  “I wanted to be a therapist when I was a kid,” Cayenne says, looking awkward now. “That clearly isn’t happening, but I still have an urge to listen to people’s problems and try to help them.”

  “Why can’t you train to be a therapist for real?”

  “I have a criminal record, and they check at most places where I could work.”

  Hating how sad she sounds to have her dream shit on, I say, “You could still go to school and open your own practice.”

  “Maybe when Duffy is older. For now, I want to be home as much as possible for her. School would put too much pressure on me.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” I ask, fighting a grin.

  “I feel like you’re deflecting.”

  Nodding, I lean back on the couch and rest my head on a pillow. “I think about my mom a lot lately. I also keep thinking I should get in touch with my roots, but I don’t particularly want to travel anywhere. Also are they really my roots if I don’t know anything about them?”

  “Define roots?”

  “My mom was from the Philippines. My dad’s parents were from Mexico. I guess I feel like I should know more about those places.”

  “And decorating your place didn’t help with those feelings.”

  “They’re just things. I think I’d be as happy with a completely different townhome.”

  Cayenne nods. “Because the décor is superficial. What you crave can’t be fixed with what’s on your walls.”

  “What do I crave?”

  “Were you close to your mother before she died?”

  “No.”

  “What about when you were little?”

  “I’m not sure,” I mumble, only remembering how she held me after beatings. “I clung to her when my father was in a rage, but I don’t know if she really wanted me to.”

  “Do you think your mother resented you?”

  “Why would she?” I ask, frowning.

  “When a woman is trapped in a relationship like your mother was with your father, fleeing is easier if there are no children. Do you think your mother felt you kept her trapped with him?”

  “No, because she had nowhere to go. Her family was in the Philippines, and she didn’t have the money to get back to them.”

  “So it wasn’t about her resenting you,” Cayenne says, and I see her jotting something down on a pad of paper. “Do you resent her?”

  “For dying?”

  “For being weak.”

  “She had reasons for why she stayed. I don’t think she knew to leave. Or maybe she tried and failed. I don’t know.”

  Cayenne nods and stands up. “I’m going to give you some homework,” she says and walks out of the room.

  “If it’s a video of a baby screaming, no, thanks.”

  “I want you to buy a journal,” she says, returning with a notebook, “and write down everything you remember about your mother. Her name, age, birthday, what she liked to eat, did she have a favorite song. Anything you can remember.”

  “What’s the point?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Studying the notebook, I frown. “Do I get in trouble if I don’t do my homework?”

  “Are you trying to make me your mom by putting me in the position of punishing you?” Cayenne asks and rests her hands on her hips in a very mom move.

  “I don’t know.”

  “The answer is no.”

  “Wait, then why ask?”

  “I wanted to see what you’d say,” Cayenne says, grinning at my irritation.

  “You’re really into this shrink thing.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Do you help Yarrow and Ginger?”

  “Yep. They’re trickier than Pepper and Bay.”

  “Do you resent everyone falling in love?” I ask, imagining how lonely life must be sometimes for Cayenne.

  “No. Do you?”

  “I’m in love too.”

  “With Glitch?”

  “Who else?” I cry, wondering if my love hasn’t been obvious enough.

  “Last I heard you viewed him as a sex toy.”

  “I guess you missed a meeting.”

  “I like Glitch. He fixes shit without asking why I need it fixed. Camo turns everything into a conversation.”

  “I think Camo might be a mama’s boy. Perhaps, you remind him of his mother, and he wants your approval or attention.”

  “Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

  “I wasn’t. I was shrinking the idiot,” I say and set down the notebook.

  “Do your homework, Clove. I think you’ll be surprised by what happens.”

  “And if I’m not surprised.”

  “We’ll talk about it during our next session on Wednesday.”

  “Why Wednesday?”

  “I’m booked every other day.”

  “Damn, bitch, you’re actually putting me on a schedule? What if I have a mental emergency?”

  “Call my office and see if I can squeeze you in,” she says, fighting laughter. “I must warn you that Yarrow is my receptionist and she tells everyon
e no.”

  “The trick is to offer her candy,” I say, laughing too.

  As if beckoned by our discussion—or possibly lonely while Blackjack is working—Yarrow shows up at the back door. The conversation quickly turns to her favorite topics—cats and babies. I’m relieved to have the focus off me now that I have homework to do.

  ➸ Glitch ★

  Hazard burned down a cop’s house and got booted from his club. After ten years in prison, I expect an unhinged fucker to burst through the door, make threats, and quickly get himself killed. In fact, Oz, Blackjack, and I discussed where to dump Hazard’s body during dinner last night. We figure it’ll be a good spot to dump Vile and Devo’s when the time comes.

  “If he isn’t too disgusting,” Blackjack says while we sit in the back room, “the girls want him to plow Cayenne.”

  “Plow?” Oz asks.

  “Their word, not mine.”

  Camo slams his fist on the table, knocking over a few beer bottles. “What the fuck?”

  “Yeah, what the fuck?” Oz growls at the younger man.

  “Cayenne is too good for a piece of shit convict. She has a kid, and she’s beautiful, and that guy is a fucking criminal.”

  “So are you,” I point out.

  Camo rolls his blue eyes. “It’s not the same thing.”

  “Cayenne is a grown woman, and she can choose whoever she wants to plow her,” Oz mutters. “Can we all shut the fuck up?”

  “I haven’t said anything,” Devo points out just to be an asshole.

  “Do you want a cookie?” Oz asks, and I can’t help laughing.

  Devo decides to ignore Oz and get angry with me. “Twat.”

  “If you want to throw down, let’s go.”

  “Sure you don’t want your woman to take the shot for you?” Devo asks.

  Gripping the table, I stand up and glare at him on the other side.

  “Settle the fuck down!” Oz yells sounding like a crazed bear.

  He startles the waitress who has the misfortune to walk over at that exact moment. Dropping a tray, she stares horrified at Oz. He shakes out his shoulders and smiles reassuring.

  “No worries, Dee. What do you need?”

  “That guy at the bar says he’s here to see you.”

  Rather than bursting into the bar like a maniac, Hazard enters Rusty Cage with a whisper. I noticed the guy a few minutes ago and paid him no attention. Now he walks over, holding a beer in his right hand and a backpack slung over his left shoulder.

  “I’m here,” Hazard says, sounding more tired than anything else.

  Oz stands up and shakes the guy’s hand. A quick introduction is done, and a lot of head nodding occurs.

  “Want to sit down?” Oz asks.

  “Not really. I drove all day to get here. I’d like to see where I’m sleeping for the night and settle in.”

  “Understood. We have a house for you. I’ll lead you out there.”

  Running a hand through his wavy, brown hair, Hazard nods at the rest of us. “I look forward to working with you,” he says and turns to leave.

  “Hope you do a better job than you did in Little Memphis,” Vile grumbles.

  Hazard glances back and smiles. The old-timer doesn’t catch the grin, but I do and get a chill. Frowning at Oz, I know he saw the same icy smirk I did.

  Without saying another word, Oz walks out with Hazard following him.

  “No way is he touching Cayenne,” Camo growls before storming out of Rusty Cage.

  Blackjack glances at me and shrugs. “Someone has a crush.”

  “I’m leaving,” I say, ready to return to Clove.

  Standing quickly, Blackjack slaps me on the back. “I’ll race you home.”

  I laugh at the fucker’s excited grin, and we take off running for our Harleys. Not once do I think to say goodbye to Vile and Devo. They’re dead men walking in my mind, and I already envision a future with them long gone.

  ➸ Clove ☆

  Unable to wait another minute to see him, I limp toward the door when I hear Glitch’s key in the lock. He looks shocked when I throw myself into his arms.

  “I had a breakthrough at therapy!” I cry, gripping him as he shuts the door and helps me to the couch. “A huge breakthrough.”

  “Therapy with Cayenne?”

  “It still counts.”

  “Yes, it does,” he says, calming the hurt I feel when I think he doesn’t take my announcement seriously. “What was the breakthrough?”

  “I want a family.”

  “Me too.”

  “No, what I’m craving is the closeness I haven’t felt since I was a kid,” I say with his hand snugly in mine. “With the crew, I had to be tough and pull my weight to belong. With my father, I had to make money for his fix. With my mother, I felt real closeness early in my life, but then she pulled away. Once her love was gone, I made myself hard to survive. Now, though, I crave the closeness she once provided.”

  My eyes dart around the room, and I feel paranoid to admit my need out loud. A little part of me still worries trusting anyone completely is a mistake. That part of me can fuck off.

  “You were the only person who wanted me even though I was more trouble than I was worth. I made you feel like shit, but you still saw value in me. I tried to believe it was just the sex, but you’re far hot enough to get plenty of pussy. You wanted me even when you shouldn’t. That’s why I fell apart once you stood up for yourself in Little Memphis. I’d begun to trust you, even while pushing you away, and now I was losing you.”

  Cupping my face, Glitch kisses me softly. “I was never going to give you up. I told myself I would, but it was never happening.”

  “Because of you, I want that closeness all the time. I want to feel it with our children. Because of you, I want to make a family like I never had. I only feel safe to really let my guard down because of you. Now that I have, I can’t wait to do it with our kids.”

  “Are you asking me to knock you up?” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than you carrying my baby.”

  “I’m not afraid of us. I know you are worth facing my fears. I kept pulling you closer and pushing you away. No more because I’m not afraid anymore. Not of remembering sad things or crying or anything. Cayenne helped me see how I wasn’t grieving my mother, but the closeness she gave me when I was little. The same closeness you offer me now. I’m ready to let go.”

  My tears pour down my cheeks, but they come from a place of joy. I throw my arms around Glitch’s neck and hold on to the man who put up with my shit because he saw value even I didn’t know I possessed.

  ➸ Glitch ★

  Living together won’t do, so Clove and I decide to get married. The sooner we take this step, the faster we can start our life together.

  After we marry at the courthouse, we have our wedding reception in the backyard of the townhome complex. The weather behaves for the first hour, but rain begins to pour just after we cut the cake. We hurry the food inside where we continue our party.

  My stepmom, Holly, leaves before the rain, but I sense her quick exit is my father’s idea. He declined our invitation to my huge fucking relief.

  Vile, Devo, and Hazard are also invited to the reception, but none of them come. Oz, of course, acts as if he’s been personally insulted by their no-shows, but Clove is thrilled the assholes aren’t in her home.

  “Who fucking cares?” she cries when Oz complains again. “Will any of them be alive by Glitch’s and my first anniversary? The answer is no, so let it go.”

  Clove ditches a still-pissed Oz and a not-even-a-little-bothered Ginger. She stops to smell the colorful gladiolus arrangements on a table. Her gaze finds me, and Clove gives me a brilliant smile.

  Soon, my new wife and I dance in the living room to the “Macarena.” She giggles the entire time while maneuvering on her still cast-covered foot.

  We continue to dance long after everyone goes home and we’re left alone with Gizmo. The cat sno
ozes on the couch, ignoring the music and us.

  “You can sing to me,” Clove says while swaying back and forth.

  “Let me know if your leg begins to hurt.”

  “Is that your way of saying you won’t serenade me?”

  Smiling at her teasing, I kiss the tip of her nose. “I only know the words to kids’ songs.”

  “Then give me some sexy Old MacDonald,” she says, reaching around to squeeze my ass.

  “Prepare to soak your panties.”

  Though Clove laughs at my warning, my singing proves too seductive for her to keep her panties on. I quickly have her over my shoulder and on our way upstairs to enjoy our first roll in the marital bed.

  Epilogue

  Polish Variation of Louisa: Luisa

  ➸ Clove ☆

  The most difficult part of parenthood for me is not spoiling my kids. It kills me to tell them no or deny their every little desire. When they misbehave, I fear I’ll look as terrifying to them as my father did to me. I end up frozen, unable to say anything rather than the wrong thing.

  Glitch proves to be the sensible parent, having witnessed what too easy a life can do to someone. As a father, he isn’t afraid to tell our kids no. He helps me understand how denying our children isn’t cruel. Through him, I learn the confidence to show them anger without imagining myself a monster like my dad.

  I swear fatherhood comes so easily to Glitch. He isn’t fazed by their fits, only reacting when necessary. I tease him that he learned such patience from courting me.

  Unlike his own father—who we have nothing to do with—Glitch loves and respects our children no matter what they accomplish. They don’t have to be little bikers in the making for him to be proud.

  Almost nine months to the day after Glitch and I marry, Benjie Lash arrives to brighten our lives. I choose a name popular in the Philippines to honor the mother I’ve found peace with. It’s Glitch’s idea for our children’s middle names to be a variation of Louis or Louisa. A little joke between us, he says.