For all I knew, he had cloned my cell phone before he left.
I didn’t want Gavin involved with all of that. I had my wild years, and one day he would have his. When he could make that choice himself and deal with the consequences that came along with it. I had to protect my son, and at the moment Rock was someone I needed to protect him from. And whether or not he wanted to admit that, I knew he knew I was right.
Rock was stubborn, but he wasn’t an idiot. He listened to rational thought when his anger wasn’t clouding his judgment.
But now that Rock knew he had a son, I also knew he wouldn’t stop until he proved himself worthy to be in our lives. And after figuring out that he went to jail protecting Brewer, I wouldn’t put it past him to protect myself and Gavin despite my acceptance of that fact. Rock had this way about him. This demeanor that drew people in. And he wouldn't relinquish them of his gravitational pull until he was done with them.
I knew he wasn’t done with Gavin and I.
Raking my hand through my hair, I started for the stairs. I wanted to peek in on my son. I wanted to make sure he was sleeping soundly. When my nightmares caught up with me and my worries as a single mother started to cloud my judgment, watching my son sleep peacefully always put me at ease. I reached for his doorknob and slowly opened his door, then peeked in and smiled at the comforter rising and falling with his even breaths.
Gavin was safe for another nap.
Safe for another day.
I sat in the doorway of his bedroom and crossed my ankles as I stretched my legs. I folded my arms over my chest and closed my eyes, taking in the small breaths of my lungs. A part of me knew this was a terrible idea. A part of me knew that letting Rock close could result in the destruction of what he was attempting to pursue. But I saw him with Gavin. How great he was with his son. I saw a light in my son’s eyes whenever Rock took his hand that I’d never been able to bring about in his stare. Gavin wanted his father. A father. Any figure to be his father. He needed that. Craved that. Constantly talked about it with me whenever we laid down at night.
And it was that small plea in the back of my mind that made me consider the idea that Gavin should know his father.
“Tell me about Daddy.”
“What, sweet boy?” I asked.
“Tell me about Daddy.”
I looked down into the eyes of my son and was immediately hit with the memories of his father.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“What’s he like?”
“He’s strong,” I said. “And brave.”
“Does he fight a lot?”
“Why do you ask that?”
“Because I want to fight a lot sometimes. And you never fight.”
“Why do you want to fight a lot, sweet boy?”
“Because other kids have dads and I don’t.”
A tear rushed down my cheek as I opened my eyes. It was the first time Gavin had ever asked about his father. Ever inquired as to what he might have been like. I expected the conversation eventually. Especially once he hit school age. Seeing kids being dropped off by their fathers and seeing fathers at picnics we were invited to was bound to bring up some questions. But the admission that Gavin wanted to fight because it made him upset was new. My son was loving. Caring. A nurturing spirit. And the idea of his small body encasing anger towards a situation like that made me sick that night.
It kept me up with my own thoughts and made for a hellish residency schedule that next day.
As much as I wanted to keep Gavin safe, I knew he deserved to know his father. And even though Rock led the kind of life he did, he deserved to know his son. My job as a mother was to keep him safe, and that wouldn’t ever change. If I smelled foul play for even a millisecond, I’d rip Gavin from the situation and make sure his life and innocence was spared. But my own hesitations and my own fears shouldn't dictate whether or not Gavin had a relationship with his father.
After all, it didn’t mean I had to have a relationship with Rock.
I stood up from the floor and closed Gavin’s door behind me. My body was a swirling storm of confusion and dichotomy. I had no idea what the right choice was. I had no idea what the outcome would be with either of them. The rational part of me screamed that this was a bad idea. That Rock needed to stay as far away from us as possible. He admitted to still being a part of the Dead Souls. He admitted to still running with them. Despite his comment about ‘cleaning up their act’, whatever the hell that meant. The fact that they had an act to clean up in the first place meant they had a history that would follow them wherever they went.
How could I expose Gavin to that?
And on the other hand, didn’t Gavin deserve this? To know his father after being so angry and confused about the topic? He was five. Intelligent for his age and quiet, though sociable. He yearned for stories about his father. He yearned for memories I had of him. He yearned to know as much about the man as he could. Didn’t he deserve the right to make his own memories with Rock? To have his own stories to tell one day about his father? Didn’t he deserve those father-son picnics and being picked up at school with his father waiting at the end of the driveway?
My son deserved those things.
But I had no idea if Rock could provide those things.
That was what being a father meant. It wasn’t about protection and money. Not completely. Yes, a father needed to provide. But ‘provide’ meant more than money. More than being there when shit went sideways. It meant cleaning up puke at two in the morning when Gavin came down with a virus. It meant wiping his ass at five years old whenever he had diarrhea. It meant emergency doctor’s appointments and punishing Gavin whenever he repeatedly did something he was asked not to do. It meant setting boundaries and sticking to them no matter how many times Gavin screamed ‘I hate you’. It meant washing more urine and fecal matter off clothes than one individual would have ever imagined in their entire life.
It meant sleepless nights when he had nightmares and early mornings when Gavin woke up before the sun. It meant fighting with him to do homework and cooking an entire meal only for him to want something else. Being a parent--being a father--encompassed so much more than Rock realized.
More than I realized until I’d had my son.
I fell down onto the couch and was immediately surrounded by Rock’s musky scent. The cologne and sweat unmistakable and were etched in my memory forever. I pressed myself into it. I nestled into the couch and allowed the cushions to swallow me whole. I reached for the blanket that had been used to cover him up and wrapped myself within it. I closed my eyes and imagined him in my home. Running around with Gavin and smiling as they came around corners. I imagined my house rattling with those gigantic footsteps of his while Gavin ran away, screaming and laughing as Rock tried to tickle him.
Only an hour’s worth of attention, and so many good memories already filled my small childhood home.
Was it possible? Could we really be some sort of a family? I’d tossed the idea away. The second I found out I was pregnant, I knew I’d never have the family I’d always wanted deep down. But so much had changed in the span of twenty-four hours, and I found myself wondering if it was possible. Could Rock and Gavin and I somehow become the family I’d always dreamed of? Was it possible for me to fall into his arms again and feel the type of love we had during our summer together?
If I was being completely honest with myself, I wanted it to be possible. If I tossed every if, and, or but out the window, I begged for it to be possible. The idea of being back in Rock’s arms and watching him play with his son for the rest of my days brought a smile to my face that ached my cheeks. Tears of happiness at the thought of it sprang to my eyes as I pulled the blanket underneath my chin. I was so tired and completely overworked. My life hadn’t stopped since I entered medical school and it would never stop until I retired.
But in Rock’s presence, my world paused. In Rock’s presence, I was able to breathe.
And I cl
ung to the feeling of that memory as I laid myself down on the couch and fell asleep.
Chapter 13
Rock
“Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out,” Brewer said.
I tossed back my shot and chased it with a beer before I settled into the couch.
“I came by after church to fill you in on shit, then I went for a ride,” I said. “I just… needed a damn ride to clear my head. None of my bars were open and I wasn’t hungry, so I stuck to my back roads and took off.”
“Sounds like you. Where did you end up?” he asked.
“On the north end of town. I followed the secondary highway up and found myself in a deserted spot I didn’t even know to exist.”
“A deserted spot in a woods town. Nice.”
“I came around a sharp corner and there it was. Some dumbass car in my lane. Lights blaring. Tires roaring down the asphalt. I figured they were drunk or texting or some shit, so I swerved. And they fucking swerved with me.”
“So, you think they intentionally tried to run you down.”
“I fucking know they did, Brewer. No tires squealed like someone tried to slam on the brakes. No horns honked like someone was trying to get my attention. Just the revving of the pathetic car engine before I ran off the damn road and tumbled into a fucking ditch.”
“Are you okay? Have you seen a doctor yet?”
“Just listen,” I said. “When I fucking woke up, I was in a house.”
“Did you get kidnapped in this story, too?”
“Cut it out, asshole. Remember the son part of all this?” I asked.
“Trust me, I’m not forgetting it.”
“You remember Piper?”
My eyes hooked with Brewer’s as he tipped back the rest of his beer.
“You good?” I asked.
“I’m going to need another one for this conversation,” he said.
“Then get me one, too.”
“Are you fucking telling me you ran into Piper?” he asked as he walked to the fridge.
“I’m telling you that she was the one who pulled me out of the ditch, fixed my fucking bike, and patched me up. She’s an E.R. doctor at the hospital in downtown.”
“She’s not,” he said.
“She really is. Told me I didn’t have a concussion, but she did stitch up a couple of places on my body. Got some stitches on the inside of my leg and on my bicep,” I said.
Brewer popped the tops off the bottles of beer before he came and sat back down.
“So, Piper’s in town, and it sounds like she’s in town for a while. What happened?”
“I thought I was dreaming. Or fucking dead. She reassured me I was neither, and we got to talking for a little bit. Found out about her job. How she moved back. Then this little boy around five years old comes running into the room with a dog and he looks just like me, Brewer.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. I’m not. Gray eyes. Thick blonde hair. Tall as fuck for a five-year old. He’s even got my one fucking dimple, Brewer. On his left cheek like I do.”
“Holy shit. You have a kid,” Brewer said.
“I have a son, man. I have a family. I had a family before any of you other assholes had a family.”
“Then why the hell are you here? Why aren’t you with them?”
“Because Diesel called telling me he came over here and he wanted me to come check on you. Plus, I’m sure he’s gonna call some fucking church soon anyway.”
“When do you see your son next?”
“I haven’t worked that shit out yet. Piper doesn’t think I can protect them or take care of them. She doesn't want me around Gavin because I’m still associated with the club.”
“Gavin? Is that--?”
“My son, yes,” I said.
Brewer sat back into his chair as I grabbed my beer. I chugged it back, allowing the alcohol to slip down effortlessly. The burn didn’t erase my memory like I thought it would. Instead, it brought them back. Memories of going out with Piper and fucking her until she begged for mercy. Memories of drinking her under the table before parting her delicious thighs and chasing my alcohol down with the taste of her arousal. Memories of her wrapping her arms around my waist and pressing her massive tits into my back while we cruised through the woods.
“Do you want to be in your son’s life?” Brewer asked.
“Hell yeah, I do. I want to be an influence on him. You should’ve heard how pissed off he was when I had to leave. He kept going on and on about how Piper always shoved good guys away instead of letting them stay. He yelled at his mother to make me stay and not make me go.”
“He what now?”
“Yeah. And the guilt in Piper’s face made me want to step up as his father and tell him to respect his mother’s wishes. I’d already done it once. I wanted to do it again.”
“You what now?” he asked.
“Piper cooked lunch for us. Stir fry. Apparently, it’s my son’s favorite.”
“Holy shit, he is your son. You’re eating that damn meal every time I come see you.”
I chuckled and shook my head as I twirled the empty beer bottle in my fingers.
“I told him I fixed cars for a living and he said he wanted to learn how to do it, too. Which swelled me with a pride I’ve never experienced before.”
“I can only imagine,” he said.
“Yeah. Piper said she would think about it and Gavin got snippy with her. Saying things like ‘that always means no’ and shit like that. So, I took his hand and told him that moms always had a reason for everything they did and said, so he needed to respect his mother’s opinion and apologize.”
“Sounds like you slip into a fatherly role easier than you thought.”
“Wipe that fucking grin off your face.”
“Not a chance,” Brewer said.
“It burned my blood to know that Piper had dated. To know that other men had been around my son, but not me. But I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why she doesn’t want me around Gavin. Just because I have a kid I didn’t know about doesn’t change the life I lead. Especially with someone trying to run me off the fucking road? And you being attacked in your own home? Having to fight for your damn life? Having a rat in the club? It’s a dangerous time to be us, and our families are going to reap the consequences of that. Gavin and Piper included. I can’t blame her for not wanting me around him. But I want to be, eventually.”
“Can we rewind to that car shit for a second?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“You intentionally got run off the road. We need to tell Diesel about that. But privately.”
“What the hell were the two of you talking about when he came over here? He didn’t sound very happy when he called.”
“I told him about my insistence on a rat, but I didn’t tell him who,” he said. “With his knee-jerk reaction, I didn’t know if he could handle the idea that it was Mick. Diesel is finally coming to terms that there’s a rat, but this is hurting him a lot more than it’s hurting any of us. He takes shit like this personally, but his emotions are getting the best of him.”
“Doesn’t shock me. Diesel’s analytical, but he’s more sensitive than the rest of us. There’s a reason he chooses diplomatic approaches rather than going in guns blazing like Grave or Knox,” I said.
“We need to tell him about your incident, though,” Brewer said. “Privately.”
“I agree with that. Bringing it up at church around Mick will only tip those fuckers off that we suspect foul play. But why not clue in Knox and Grave?”
“Honestly? I’m paranoid as fuck right now. I don’t know their personal relationship with Mick outside of the club, so I don’t want to take chances. I don’t talk to him much outside of the group and I know you don’t talk to him at all outside of the group. So as far as I’m concerned, you and Diesel are the only two I trust right now with the conclusions I’ve come to.”
“Fair
enough. We’ll talk to Diesel in private about it, then.”
“Are you going to tell him about Gavin and Piper?” he asked.
I threw back the last of my second beer before I let out a heavy sigh.
“I think I’m gonna have to.”
“Good, because I think you should. We need to get a plan in place to protect them if something does happen. I don’t think they’re in danger right now, but I know if you want to keep in contact with them, it’s wise to have something in place. Diesel can help with that.”
“I’m never gonna hear the end of this from the fucking guys.”
“With how hard you’ve ragged on us for having families? Oh, hell no,” Brewer said with a grin.
I sat with my friend for a little while longer before I embraced him and left. I headed back to my rundown apartment and parked my bike out of view, and the first thing I did was take pictures of my bike. I wanted to document all this shit in case we needed it for something. I took pictures of the bent handlebars. The dents with the paint in them. The scratches on the outer surface of my bike. Then I picked off the green flakes of paint and put them in a baggie to keep in case I needed to reference the color of the damn car.
I walked inside and tossed everything onto the kitchen counter. I slid my cut off and tossed it over a chair, then went straight for my computer. I wanted to talk to Piper again, but it was too risky going back to her place. After the uproar with Gavin, I didn't want to upset him anymore. Nor did I want to upset her. So, I sat down at my computer, cracked my fingers, and got to work.
Ten minutes later, after cracking into databases I had no business being in, I had Piper’s cell number in my possession. I cleared my history and shut down my equipment, putting everything through a hard reboot like I did every fucking time I fished around for something. I sat back in the chair as it groaned underneath my weight and looked at the number I’d punched into my phone.
Rock (Dead Souls MC Book 4) Page 7