by Debra Kayn
He reached over and pulled Karla to him. "Do this for me."
"I can't take her, Chief." Karla leaned against his side. "Your sons are only a few years older than her. She won't stand a chance in our house the way you let those boys run around, doing what they want, sleeping with girls twice their age. Johanna is a beautiful child, but she won't fit in with our crew. It's hard enough keeping the boys out of trouble. Look at Olin, already out trying to prove himself."
"Johanna's only twelve years old. Jett, Olin, and Thorn won't even look twice at her. She needs a gentle hand. Nene's...she's not meant to be a mother and treats her more like a guest in the house who is required to act like an adult. You've done right by my sons. You'll care for her, too. She needs a mother's love, babe." He'd put Johanna with Nene because she needed a firm hand to forget her past. Nobody questioned how Nene came about having a child. But, Johanna needed more now that she'd settled into life at Brikken.
"Chief." She exhaled loudly. "We've got four bedrooms in the house. There's no room for her. She's already settled into school as Nene's daughter. You can't uproot her. She's on the verge of becoming a young lady and needs stability and to feel like she's accepted."
"Put Olin and Thorn together. Johanna can have her own bedroom." He glanced down at her. "How old is Jett?"
"He's seventeen." Karla slapped his ass. "You need to know the ages of your kids. They look up to you. They want to know you love them."
"I do," he said, gruffly. "I'll move Jett and his things into the clubhouse. He's close enough to eighteen, he can work around here after school and start working toward his patch when his birthday comes around."
"You're breaking my heart," she whispered. "He's too young to join up with Brikken."
He leaned forward and lowered his head to look into her eyes. "Do you have a heart?"
Karla slapped his chest and laughed softly. "I've been told I do...on occasion."
"Yeah, well, you know the deal, babe. You take care of my kids, and I take care of you." He kissed her hard. "I'll let Johanna know I'll be taking her to you tomorrow. Get those boys working on clearing out Jett's room in the morning. I'll let Jett know he's moving out. At his age, he'll be happy about the change in his living situation."
Karla kissed him back hard, if not passionately. "There are times, Chief, your stubbornness and refusal to do the right thing push me too far. I'm not ready to lose Jett to the club."
He grunted. She'd do anything for him. She might not like his decisions, but she understood the way he ran his family. Jett would someday take over Brikken, the same way he'd stepped into being president after Rollo was murdered.
"Why do you care about that girl so much?" asked Karla.
His reasons were his own.
Karla sighed, accepting her role in his life and knowing she had no other choice in the matter. He watched her walk away. Unlike Nene, Karla understood how to bite her lip and let go of her displeasure. She'd be good for Johanna.
He'd gotten Karla pregnant with his son when she was eighteen years old, and he was prospecting under Rollo. It took all his income from Brikken to put her up in a house, and he had the fucking good sense to make three rules. She needed to stay home and raise Jett until he was eighteen years old if she expected him to supply the house and the money. If she wanted a separate life, she was on her own, and he'd pay for his kid's support.
She could fuck who she wanted because he was done with her. Too young to settle down, he wanted the life given to him by Brikken. Plenty of women and parties.
If he felt like spending the night with her and the kids, she'd welcome him to her bed. She'd taken advantage of that rule over the years.
But, then two more sons came his way because Jett needed siblings. He'd grown up an only child. He didn't want that for his son, so he'd extended his agreement with Karla.
His shoulders ached. He rubbed the back of his neck. Now, Karla would be a mother to Johanna.
He sighed, his chest warming. He and that girl — they had a special connection.
By living with Karla, Johanna would get a soft hand and even softer words. Older brothers, who may or may not accept her, would become her family. She'd receive a mother's love and someone to help her get through growing up.
He rubbed his hand over his beard. The only thing that worried him was that Johanna would be too content living with Karla, she wouldn't need him anymore.
Chapter Three
Olin punched Jett and ran across the backyard of Karla's house. Johanna climbed up on the wooden deck railing and swung her legs over the edge. Thorn dragged three rakes behind him and dumped the tools under the maple tree.
Lately, people mistook her for their real sister that she'd stopped reminding them that she was their foster sister. Chief only laughed when she'd told him what other people say to her. She still didn't know why it was funny. She didn't look like Olin, who had darker brown hair and his eyes were just brown, not yellow-brown like hers. Jett had almost black hair and whiskers. Not long whiskers like Chief, but baby whiskers. She could still see his chin. Ashley and Lindsay thought Thorn was cute because he was closest in age to them, but he teased too much and wore his hair long, past his shoulders. Maybe long hair made her look related to Chief's sons.
Olin texted on his phone ignoring his chore. Jett walked over to the swing set and hung by his arms on the top of the rail, pulling himself up until his chin touched the bar, while Thorn walked around kicking leaves.
The boys were going to get in trouble. Chief told them to rake the leaves fifteen minutes ago. He'd come outside any minute to check to make sure they were doing their chores and find them goofing off. They never listened the first time, even when Chief was the one who told them what to do.
She bit her lower lip and looked over her shoulder at the deck for any stray leaves. It'd been her job to sweep the deck. Chief told everyone—except Jett, who was too old to play—that the first kid who finished their chore would get to go to the club with him for a couple of hours.
Her stomach tingled in excitement. Chief sometimes stayed away for two or three weeks at a time, but he was here now, and she'd won. She'd get to go with him.
The sliding door behind her squeaked on the track. She stopped swinging her legs and gathered her hair over her shoulder, hoping a leaf hadn't blown in the wind and landed on the deck.
"Uh huh." Chief's boots thunked against the wooden slats. "Hm..."
She squeezed her eyes closed while he inspected the deck. Please. Please. Please.
He grunted. She scrunched her face and bent her neck forward. If he made her sweep the deck again, the boys would have a chance to catch up.
She raised her head and peeked out into the yard. Only Thorn raked the leaves. Olin and Jett were facing each other, exchanging punches.
Chief's big hands landed on the railing at her hips. His busy beard tickled her back. She muffled her giggle, excitement filling her. She just had to win the competition.
He gave her a big smacking kiss on her cheek. "Good job, bug."
Her nervousness spilled out in laughter. She twisted her upper body and threw her arms around his neck. Her body lifted, and he carried her over to the steps.
"Do I get to go with you?" she asked, refusing to let go of him.
His chest shook against the palms of her hands. "Yeah, you get to go. Let me go out and kick the boys in gear, and then we'll ride to the clubhouse."
"Awesome," she whispered.
He set her on her feet. "Go inside and grab your allowance from Karla."
"I'll get it later." She sat down on the step and cradled her chin in her upturned hand, not wanting to miss a minute of Chief's visit.
Instead of going out into the yard, Chief tilted his head and looked at her. She waited for him to say something and after several seconds, he chuckled and strolled out into the yard. That made her happy.
She could tell when his chest rumbled that he, too, was happy. Smiling to herself, she bet he was glad it was
her that'd won the chore competition. The boys were always fighting and made going anywhere with them hard, because either Karla or Chief, whoever was with them, always ended up yelling at them to stop the horseplay or get off their phones—they were always talking to girls.
"Get your asses over here and clean the yard." Chief picked up a stick that'd fallen off the tree. "I want it done in fifteen minutes or no allowance."
"I hate raking." Olin took out his phone. "I'm supposed to meet Kristen at five o'clock."
"Then, you better hurry." Chief walked to the farthest spot in the yard and threw the branch over the cedar fence into the woods that surrounded the property.
When he returned, Olin had picked up the rake. Jett quietly worked picking up the leaves on the other side of the tree. Thorn flapped the garbage sack in the air trying to open the bag.
A sudden thought hit her, and she ran into the house, leaving the sliding door open, and went into her room. Rummaging through her desk drawer, she found the new bottle of nail polish she'd bought with last week's allowance.
Running back through the house, she stopped when Karla called her name. She stuck her head into the living room. "Yes?"
"Keep that door shut. You're letting all the gnats in that are swarming around the leaves." Karla waved a twenty-dollar bill in her hand. "Don't forget your allowance."
She hurried over and snatched up the money. "Thanks!"
"Who won?" asked Karla.
She grinned. "I did."
Karla laughed. "Chief needs to stop taking you to the clubhouse around all those men."
She lost her smile. "No, I want to go."
A look she couldn't decipher passed over Karla's face. "Just make sure you stick with Chief and listen to him."
"I will." She ran out of the house before Karla decided to forbid her from going.
Sitting back on the step, she opened the polish and painted her nails. Last time she'd gone to the clubhouse, a lot of the women who hung out with the men had red nails and toenails. Having only had soft pink, purple, and pastel colors, she realized that bright red nails were popular with all the women who flirted with Chief. An adult color.
She rubbed the skin on her thumb, trying to wipe away the paint that got on her skin. If Lindsay or Ashley were here, she'd have one of them do her nails. She always made a mess like she only had two left hands.
Once she was done, she carefully screwed the cap back on the bottle and put her hands in front of her face, blowing hard.
"Why'd you paint your fingernails?" Olin carried a bag full of leaves and dropped it by the step. "You don't even have tits yet."
"I do, too." She stuck out her chest. "I've been wearing a bra for a year."
"Whatever," mumbled Olin.
He walked away. She looked down at her chest outlined in her Tee. Her boobs were growing fast and often hurt when she tried to sleep. Karla had already bought her another bra in a bigger size last weekend when they'd gone to the mall and said they'd probably keep growing.
"How many more times do we have to do this?" Thorn fell to the grass. "We've raked back here for the last three weekends, and there are still leaves on the fucking tree."
"Watch your mouth." Chief looked up. "I'll be back in a couple weeks. That'll probably be the last time."
Johanna smiled, testing the dryness of her polish with the tip of her finger. She hoped the next two weeks went fast.
"This is bullshit," said Jett.
"Hey, why does he get to cuss and I don't?" Thorn rejoined everyone under the tree.
"Because he's an adult and lives at the clubhouse," said Olin. "Next year, I'm moving to the clubhouse, and you're going to be stuck here with mom and Johanna."
"I remember Grandpa Rollo telling me Chief moved into the clubhouse at sixteen." Thorn kicked the pile of leaves. "I don't see why I can't join Brikken next year."
"Rollo made mistakes, son. We must learn from them," said Chief. "You'll be a stronger man at eighteen. An asset to the club."
Johanna listened attentively. She loved when Chief told stories about his father. The boys remembered him—though they were little when Rollo died. Sometimes, she wished she could join the motorcycle club, so she never had to go away when she was eighteen. But, girls weren't allowed.
Maybe she'd be one of the women who hung out at the parties. She liked how the party women dressed. The boys called the women sexy.
"What night do you put out the garbage?" Chief kicked Thorn's sneaker.
"Monday."
"Put the bags in the garage and remember to set them out at the end of the driveway, so your mom doesn't get upset." Chief walked toward Johanna. "Let's go, bug."
She jumped up and slipped her hand into his as he walked up the step. Dragging him through the house before he could stop and talk with Karla, she couldn't contain her happiness.
"Can I ride in front?" She turned and skipped backward, willing to beg if it looked like he'd say no.
"It'll take longer to get to the clubhouse because we'll have to take the backroads." Chief shrugged, but she could tell he hid his smile behind his beard because of the crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
"Yes. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." She ran ahead and put on the helmet.
He put his shell cap on his head. "Climb on."
She slid onto the seat of the motorcycle. He tilted her head his way, and he slid his sunglasses over her eyes.
Chief got on behind her. She scooted back, flat against his chest, and put her legs over his thighs to keep them away from the engine. His beard tickled her shoulders, and she reached down and gathered the loose material of his jeans and held on as he started the motorcycle and tipped it straight.
He roared out of the driveway. For the next twenty minutes, as they rode the backroads to the clubhouse, she kept her lips closed and smiled until her cheeks ached.
At the gate of Brikken property, she waved to the two prospects letting them ride through. She smiled, knowing they were going slow enough the bugs in the air wouldn't fly into her mouth. Being inside the fence always made her happy.
She could go anywhere. Sometimes, she played in the creek behind the clubhouse and other times, she liked to walk in the field and collect wildflowers. If any other club kids were around, they played hide and go seek inside because the place was huge and there were a lot of rooms. Her favorite hiding spot was underneath the pool table. There was an opening underneath, and if she was careful, she could climb inside the table, and no one ever found her. But, she liked dancing to the music, too.
Chief parked at the closest spot next to the front door of the clubhouse in the long line of motorcycles.
Chief got off the bike first, then she slid off. Her hand came away wet. She looked down and gasped.
"What's wrong?" Chief put his helmet on the handlebar.
At first, she thought her nail polish smeared all over her hand, but after inspecting each finger, a sinking feeling made her dizzy. She looked between her legs and quickly scrambled around the motorcycle.
"Bug?"
Her heart pounded, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Long prepared for the day she'd start her period, she never dreamed it would happen this second. Not now. Not when she was at the club. Not when her backpack was at home with everything she needed. Not when Karla wasn't here to help her.
Chief reached over the Harley and grabbed her wrist, bringing it closer. "Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "I got my period," she mumbled.
"What?"
Dying a thousand deaths, she said, "I got my period."
"So?" Chief pulled her around the motorcycle until she stood right in front of him. Her curse in life stained her jeans.
"I see," he muttered, letting her go.
She crossed her legs and tried to pull her Tee down farther to hide the evidence. Her stomach wasn't feeling too good.
Chief opened the duffle at the back of his bike and pulled out a sweatshirt. She stared at him because there was nowh
ere else to look. He put the sweatshirt behind her and tied the sleeves at her waist. Then, he picked her up, ignoring her protest that he'd get blood on him, and carried her through the clubhouse, up the stairs, and into his room.
Setting her feet on the floor, he walked back out to the hallway, leaving her all alone. She stood in the center of the room, afraid to move and make a bigger mess. Tears filled her eyes, and she couldn't even wipe them away.
The door opened. Chief stepped inside carrying a stack of clothes and pulled a tampon out of his pocket, holding it up to further embarrass her. Karla had bought her pads she was supposed to stick in her underwear. She had no idea how to use a tampon or if it was even possible. She was only thirteen years old.
"There's a bathroom at the end of the hallway. Jump in the shower, do your thing, and then open the door and I'll hand you the clothes. You can pick something out that will fit good enough to stay on your body." He dumped the clothes on the bed, walked back to her, and tried to hand the tampon to you.
Wanting the whole situation to go away, she stuck up her chin. "It's my first time, Chief. I don't think a tampon is going to work right now."
As soon as she finished explaining, she felt better. Mature girls weren't embarrassed by having a period. Lindsay said boys looked at her more now that she had one. Maybe Chief would come to the house more and see her, now that she was a woman.
He tilted his head. "Go ahead and jump in the shower. I'll go get you something else."
She walked to the door, cracked it open, and peeked her head out into the hallway. The coast clear, she slipped out of the room and ran toward the bathroom.
Before she closed herself in, Chief yelled, "Lock the door, Johanna."
She hid inside and turned the lock. Stripping off her clothes, she turned on the water in the shower and washed her body, lingering between her legs. The hole down there was way too small for a tampon. She stuck her arm outside the stall and grabbed one of the towels on the shelf and used one of the washcloths between her legs to stop the flow of blood. Penguin walking to keep the make-shift pad in place, she navigated out of the shower and shut off the water.