“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I interject.
“It means your family ruined my girl,” Nana fires back, keeping her eyes on Mac. “Listen here, if that woman is telling you to leave, she’s telling you to go for the greater good of that boy. The demons chasing her are catching up to her. No mother wants to bury their child. Even when she knows that child was as rotten as the day is long, a mother never wants to live to see their child die.”
“What are you saying she’s soft now?” Mac asks incredulously.
“I’m saying she’s a mother and a grandmother. I’m saying maybe she’s seen enough blood on her hands, put enough bodies in the dirt. I’m saying that black heart still beats and, it beats for your son.”
Digesting Nana’s words, I try to picture my mother as a doting grandmother which is hard considering how badly she missed the mark on maternal skills.
“I don’t know,” Mac rasps. “That woman has fooled me too many times to count. What if this is another one of her sick games? It’s not just me she’s messing with now.”
I have no idea what she’s referring to. Before I was carted off to prison, when Mac was still mine, there wasn’t this much bad blood between her and Milly. Sure, I knew my mother wasn’t a fan. She called Mac a distraction, said my focus should be on my club and not pussy. Come to think of it, she even told me if I kept my head buried between Mac’s legs, I’d wind up losing my place in the club. At the time, I thought she was blowing smoke. I couldn’t imagine loving Mac would lead to betrayal.
“We leave at six in the morning,” I say, breaking the silence.
“I haven’t agreed to go with you,” Mac replies.
Raising an eyebrow, I bite back the urge to laugh in her face. Instead, I grit my teeth.
“You don’t have a choice,” I growl, cutting my gaze to her grandmother. “What are the chances my Ford is still parked in your garage?”
Before my Harley, there was a red beat-up Ford F-150 with worn leather seats and a rusted flatbed. Like everything else in this town, it’s a reminder of what was lost. That truck wasn’t just mine though. Mac owned that shotgun seat like she owned everything else that was mine. Like she owned my heart and fucking soul. Grinding my teeth, I can still recall her sliding in beside me and kicking her legs up on the dash. Her smile was so fucking wide and her laughter contagious as she hollered for me to push the speed limit.
Shaking my head, I mutter a curse and force the memories to the back of my head. There ain’t no use in torturing myself with what was or what could’ve been. That shit is over and done with. I need to focus on getting them out of here and figure a way to keep them safe without fucking getting sucked into the past.
Blowing out a breath, I arch an eyebrow.
“Should I take your silence as my answer?” I ask Nana, watching as she smooths a hand over her housecoat.
Cocking her head to the side, she finally responds.
“You mean the hunk of junk you left in my garage when you took off to God knows where?”
“That’s the one,” I reply, losing my patience.
“You know I hated that rusty ‘ol thing. Like the man it belonged to…,” she sasses, glancing at Mac. “…and the girl who loved to ride beside him, that thing was nothing but a pain in my ass.”
As she continues to ramble on, I can feel Mac’s eyes bore into me. It would be so easy to look back at her and get lost in all that honey but, there’s no recovering from that. A simple fix is never enough and overdosing on her once in a lifetime is enough for any sane man so, I keep my eyes firmly on Nana as she continues to fuck us both with a trip down memory lane.
“I tried to junk it a bunch of times but, every time I walked into that garage I pictured the two of you, riding around the town, wreaking havoc.”
God fucking help me.
“So, does that mean you still got it?” I grind out.
This woman is going to be the death of me.
“It needs a coat of paint and there is a dent from the last time I kicked it but the piece of junk is still there.”
Thank fuck.
“Why do you need the truck?” Mac questions.
Diverting my attention to her, I clench my jaw. Having had my fill of these two, I move to the coffee table and swipe a cigarette. A couple of hours in this fucking place and I’ve already picked up one bad habit I spent years trying to break. I wonder how many more I’ll take back to Brooklyn with me. Lifting my head, I light the cigarette and look at Mac.
“Seeing as my Harley is parked on your Nana’s lawn and I don’t have a sidecar attached, I’m going to need something to transport the two of you to New York.”
“New York,” Mac rasps. “Is that where you’ve been all these years?”
I want to ask her why it matters, but instead, I take another drag of the cigarette. Deciding I’ve had enough and realizing tomorrow I will be stuck in a car with her for twelve hours, that I won’t be able to escape her fucking questions, I start for the door.
“Quit asking questions and start packing. If it doesn’t fit in the bed of the truck, it’s not coming with us,” I say, pulling open the door.
“Most of our belongings are at the clubhouse,” she reveals.
“Make a list and I’ll see that Mooney grabs whatever you need.”
“Or, I can just go get it myself,” she replies, causing me to pause in the doorway.
Spinning around, my boots quickly swallow the space between us. Until now, I’ve kept a significant distance. Now, her fucking perfume invades my senses and I’m close enough to spot the flecks of gold in her eyes. Her breath hitches and for some fucking reason, my dick decides it likes that.
“I don’t think you’re understanding so let me be clear…whatever mess Junior got himself tangled up in, bled into your life…into that boy’s life. The only reason I’m here is to make sure they don’t put a bullet in either one of your heads. So, no, you can’t go get your shit yourself. Now you’ll make this whole mess a fuck of a lot easier if you stop arguing and just fucking listen. Make the list for Mooney or don’t. I don’t give a fuck but if your kid has a favorite toy that he’s going to miss then I suggest you quit looking at me with those eyes of yours and start moving.”
My eyes dart to her throat as she struggles to swallow.
“Wow,” she whispers hoarsely. Lifting my head, my eyes lock with hers. “I knew you hated me, but I never realized how much.”
“Yeah,” I swallow. “…about as much as I loved you,” I lie.
Lie about hating her.
About loving her.
Fucking lies.
All lies.
Chapter Six
Bas’ hair was longer than I remembered, and he sported a lot more ink now than he did six years ago. Another new addition to his already rugged appearance was his beard, which I was still on the fence about. While it was perfectly trimmed and suited him just fine, it hid most of his face and made him appear older. But he was older…we both were. I just chose to remember the younger version of him.
The version that belonged to me.
All these years, I tried not to think about where he was or what he was doing. If he was happy or if he had met someone. As selfish as it sounds, I didn’t want to think of him with another woman. The idea of him settling down with someone else and possibly having a family with that person, devastated me. I know, you’re probably thinking I’m a hypocrite, but you don’t know my story and love is the hardest habit to break.
“Mommy?”
The sound of my son’s groggy voice cuts through my thoughts and I divert my attention to him, watching as he sits up.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper softly, moving to take a seat on the edge of the bed. Rubbing his eyes with his tiny fists, he yawns and I gently smooth down his sandy blonde hair.
“I was just going to wake you,” I tell him as he draws his hands away from his eyes. Blinking against the darkness, he glances toward the window.
“But it�
��s still night time.”
Smiling at him, I inch closer and wrap my arm around his shoulders, bringing him against me.
“Actually, it’s early morning,” I say. Touching a finger under his chin, I lift his eyes to mine and lean in, pressing my forehead against his. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
His blue eyes widen in wonder and a sleepy smile stretches across his lips.
“Tell me.”
“Well, we’re going on a trip,” I say.
I’ve spent the better part of the night trying to decide how I was going to break the news to Ryder. The last few days have been rough on him. On top of losing his dad, I now had to explain we were moving away from the only home he’s ever known, with a man he’s never met.
It wasn’t until last year when his teachers asked every child in the class to make a family tree, that he learned he had an uncle. Of course being a curious child that sparked a slew of questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. Somehow, I muddled through, explaining Uncle Bas had moved before Ryder was born. When he asked for a picture, I dug through the old shoebox I kept hidden under my bed at the clubhouse and showed him my favorite one of all.
It was a photograph of Bas I snapped with the fancy Nikon he purchased for me the day he got his patch. Photography had become a passion of mine and while he was earning his colors, I was off taking classes at the community center. After the patch was sewn to his leather vest, he took me to Best Buy and bought it for me. We went back to the clubhouse, and he started tinkering with his bike. Wearing a pair of sunglasses and proudly sporting his new patch, I watched him straddle his Harley and felt compelled to capture the moment.
“What kind of trip?” Ryder asks, jolting my attention back to him.
“We’re going on a road trip but, that’s not the best part. We’re going to the greatest and biggest city in the whole world,” I say. As the words leave me, I feel a little nauseous. Of all the places Bas could dig his heels, New York wasn’t where I thought he’d wind up. I don’t know the first thing about big cities and I can’t help but already feel out of my element.
“Disney world?”
“No, baby, not Disney World,” I tell him. “We’ll go there too one day. I promise.” By hook or by crook, I will make it happen. “We’re going to New York.”
“What’s in New York?”
Hell, if I know. I’ve never left Kentucky.
“Well, there are lots of tall buildings. They’re called skyscrapers and from what I hear, it’s home to the greatest baseball team of all time, the New York Yankees. Maybe we can go to a game,” I say softly, stroking his hair. “And, they’re supposed to have tons of your favorite food.”
“They have pizza there?”
“The best pizza in the world,” I reply with a wink. “You know what else is in New York?”
Shaking his head, his big blue eyes anxiously wait for my response.
“Your Uncle Bas.”
His eyes widen for a moment before he tears his glance down. His teeth work the inside of his cheek as he silently decides how he feels about that bit of news. Finally, after another few seconds, he lifts his chin.
“What?” I ask softly.
“Do you think he will like me?”
“Of course, he’ll like you,” I reply, swallowing the lump in my throat. My heart breaking as my little boy wonders if he’ll be accepted by an uncle he never met. “What isn’t to like?” I offer a smile. “You’re the best kid in the whole world. Everyone loves you, Ryder.”
My words were meant to offer a boost of confidence yet as I finish, he diverts his attention away from me and frowns.
“Hey…” I whisper, pressing a finger under his chin, forcing his eyes back to mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Well, I’m just wondering if that’s true. I don’t think my dad liked me very much. What if you’re wrong? What if Uncle Bas is like daddy?”
Hearing my son say those words cuts me deep and angers me. However, it’s not just Junior I’m mad at. I’m annoyed with myself too. All these years, I thought I somehow compensated for the father Junior never was, that I filled the void he caused. Now, sitting here, listening to Ryder tell me otherwise, I’m mad I didn’t pick up earlier on the signs. If that bastard wasn’t dead, I’d fucking kill him with my bare hands. Torn between the need to reassure him that his father cared for him—even if I’m not certain he did—and attempting to convince him Bas will like him, I turn his chin again.
“Ryder,” I start, forcing him to look me in the eye. “I know your Uncle Bas really well, longer than I knew your daddy and I’ll tell you something, something you’ll see for yourself, your daddy and your uncle are nothing alike.”
“But they’re brothers.”
“Yeah, they’re brothers but brothers are also allowed to be different.” Drawing out a sigh, I smooth a hand over his head. “I know things haven’t been great, Ryder, but they’re going to change.”
Bringing him closer to me, I wrap my arms around his little body and send a silent prayer up to God that I’m not lying to my son. A moment later the alarm on my phone starts to sound and I reluctantly pull back.
“It’s time to get a move on, sweet boy,” I say, reaching over to silence the phone. “Let’s get you some cereal.”
“It’s funny to think it’s morning when the moon is still out,” Ryder says, scrambling off the bed. Smiling at him, I take his hand and lead him out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, we find Nana sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee.
“Nana!” Ryder greets, charging toward her. Pushing back her chair, she makes room for him and hugs him tightly to her. “Did you hear I’m going to visit with my Uncle Bas?”
“I did,” she replies, glancing at me. “He’s been out in the garage with Mooney, loading the truck, for the last couple of hours.”
That surprises me, considering the list of things I gave Mooney was minimal. Aside from the bare necessities I figured I needed, I asked him to grab some of Ryder’s clothes and a few of his favorite toys. I still wasn’t sure how this was going to work but I assumed we would be staying with Bas for the time being and I didn’t want to bombard his space with all our shit.
“Most of that time, they spent securing a trailer to the hitch of that rusty old truck,” Nana informs, taking a sip of coffee in between sentences. “I’m surprised that piece of junk still runs.”
Peering out the kitchen window, I watch Bas round the back of the trailer.
“Me too,” I admit, setting the coffee cup on the counter. Unable to peel my eyes away, I continue to stare as he turns to Mooney. The two of them look to be engaged in a serious conversation and I can only imagine what the old man is telling Bas. Out of everyone, Mooney is the only one who has kept a relationship with Bas through the years and I reckon he’s not too keen on having Bas be the one responsible for keeping me and Ryder out of the line of fire.
“Am I making the right decision, here?”
“It doesn’t seem like there is any other choice,” Nana replies, placing her empty mug in the sink. Her eyes follow mine and she too stares out the window, watching Bas and Mooney.
“I’m sure in the six years that have passed, he’s made a life for himself. A life he put on hold to come back here when he heard you were in trouble. That’s gotta say something—what, I’m not so sure.”
I considered that too and I’ve also conceded I’m scared to learn what kind of life Bas leads. I don’t think I can handle intruding on a fairytale he might be living with someone else.
“One day at a time,” Nana says, turning back to me.
Facing her, she leans into me and wraps her arms around me.
“If anyone can keep you and Ryder safe, I don’t doubt it’s Bas,” she says, squeezing me tight. “I’m just sad he has to do it so far from here.”
“I’m going to miss you,” I say hoarsely as I return her embrace.
“It’s only temporary,” she assures. “Besides, maybe I’ll come
for a visit once you're settled. I’ve always wanted to see New York,” she says, breaking our embrace. Reaching into her housecoat, she pulls out a wad of cash and shoves it into my hand, closing my fist.
“Nana—”
“Take it,” she insists. “It’s not much, but it’s something to help you get on your feet.”
The way she talks, I’m starting to believe she thinks I’m never coming back, and that doesn’t sit well with me. La Grange may have been hard on me but it’s the only home me and Ryder have ever known. I’m not looking to make it in the big city. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I know it's not that. Realizing, Bas and I need to talk so that I have a better understanding of where I stand and what to expect, I glance at the clock.
It’s five thirty, and he wanted us on the road by six. Taking the money, I shove it into the back pocket of my jeans and place a peck on Nana’s cheek. Turning around, I cross the kitchen and make my way to where Ryder is slurping down the last of his cereal.
“It’s time to get dressed, buddy,” I say.
Setting down his spoon, he hands me the bowl and I start for the sink. Nana offers to help Ryder get dressed as I wash the few dishes in the sink. By the time I’m finished I hear the thundering noise of a pack of bikes. I shut the water and grab a dishtowel. Drying my hands, I pad toward the front of the house and peek out the window, catching sight of Milly as she climbs off the back of her husband’s bike.
Crank immediately starts towards the garage as Milly stands back, sizing up the house. Behind her six men idly straddle their bikes waiting for their next order. Just a few days ago, those same men were cleaning Junior’s blood from the floors of the clubhouse, rallying up everyone connected to the club and making sure no more blood was shed. Instead of looking defeated, they look hungry for a fight and I’m suddenly grateful I won’t be around to see what happens next to the Satan’s Knights of La Grange.
The door opens causing me to drag my attention away from the window. Mooney’s large frame fills the doorway and his eyes meet mine.
“It’s time to roll out, Mac.”
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