by Tracey Ward
“Hey, Pops,” I greet him quietly.
I’m glad my voice is steady because I don’t feel it inside. The sight of him is a shock I wasn’t ready for. He’s tiny. The broad shoulders I remember are narrowed and bony, his skin hanging off of him like dough draped over a skeleton. His face is gaunt, his skin sallow. His hair is almost entirely gone. Only his Navy tattoos and his brilliant blue eyes are familiar, and even those are faded and tired.
He blinks at me, stunned. “Harlow.”
“I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” I tell him nervously. “I probably should have called first.”
“What are you talking about? Get in here. Give me a hug.”
I smile with relief, releasing a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I step past the nurse to lean over the bed and into Pops’ embrace. He’s smaller than he was three years ago but the hug is surprisingly strong.
“It’s so good to see you,” I whisper, my heart swelling painfully.
“You too, kiddo,” he hums in my ear. “How long has it been?”
“Three years.”
“Three years,” he repeats on an amazed whisper. “Too long.”
“Way too long,” I laugh, standing up straight to smile down at him. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright. You’re young. You have a life to live.”
“I should have made time,” I insist. “I’m sure Josh is here all the time.”
“Twice a week, but Josh doesn’t have a life.”
I laugh at his joke but in the back of my mind I’m thinking how wrong he is. Josh has a very interesting life. One that is probably becoming more colorful right this second.
I was worried about leaving him alone at the club this morning. I was even more worried I’d run into him before I got out of there. I can’t shake the memory of that kiss, no matter how hard I try. When I curled up in bed with Devo last night, he was already asleep. I followed quickly and easily after him. No remorse. No guilt. I feel worse about that than I do about the kiss.
Do I owe Devo better? Probably, yeah. But it’s kind of hard to hold onto that point of view when I know he’s out two-stroking half the county the second he gets out of my sight.
Pops looks at the nurse, gesturing to me. “This is the girl I’ve told you about. Isn’t she beautiful?”
The nurse smiles. “She’s gorgeous, Russ.”
“She and Josh were best friends as kids. You couldn’t keep ‘em apart.” He looks up at me, grinning. “When was the last time you saw Josh? He’s going to the college now. He’s the first person in our family to get past high school.”
“I saw him yesterday, actually. And the day before. He told me about college. I’m so proud of him.”
“I wish I could have seen you go to college too. You’re a brilliant girl, Harlow.”
I shake my head adamantly, sinking into the ugly yellow chair next to his bed. “No. Not me. I’m not book smart like Josh.”
“And he’s not street smart like you.”
“I think you’d be surprised by how street smart he is.”
Pops blows a raspberry, dismissing the idea. “Josh likes computers and electronics. He can’t do anything with a motor. He can’t even change a tire. But you…”
I grin slyly. “I swapped out the engine on a ’67 ‘Cuda last year.”
“You see what I’ve been saying?” Pops asks the nurse. “Beautiful and smart. She’s a dangerous girl.”
“She’s the whole package,” the nurse replies patiently. She checks her watch with a wince. “I have to finish my rounds but I’ll back to check on you two in an hour, okay?”
“Sure.”
I wait until she’s gone to open up my purse. From inside, I pull out two tall, gleaming silver cans.
Pops’ eyes light up when he sees them. “You angel,” he breathes.
“I’m guessing beer is contraband in here.”
“You knew it or you wouldn’t have snuck those in the way you did.”
“This isn’t going to send you into a coma, is it?” I ask, genuinely curious. I want to give him a treat, not kill him. “Can you mix this with your meds?”
He holds out his hand to me, waiting eagerly for the can. “Only one way to find out.”
I grin as I pop the top for him. It cracks loudly through the room, sending up the scent of hops between us. That smell and his eyes and the sound of football on the TV puts me in a time warp. I’m immediately sent back to when I was a kid, parked on the rug in the middle of his living room, munching on popcorn and listening to him and Josh go on and on about their favorite players. I like football but they love it. Like, deeply and as devoutly as some people love God or good coffee.
Pops takes a small sip of his brew. His eyes light up like a kid eating candy when it hits his tongue. “Dammit, that’s good stuff.”
“Of course it is,” I laugh as I pop my own top, settling back in my chair. “Would I bring you, of all people, skunk beer?”
“You could, but I’m glad you didn’t.”
I use my beer to point to the TV. “Who’s playing?”
“UCLA and Washington are supposed to be playing, but it’s the second half and Washington hasn’t shown up yet.”
“If they haven’t by now, they probably never will.”
“It’s that UCLA quarterback. Domata. He’s killing them.”
“Also, Washington sucks,” I remind him plainly.
He smiles. “Yeah, there is that.”
We watch in a comfortable silence as the Huskies march the ball down the field to the forty-yard line. That’s as far as they get. After that it’s one down after another without gaining a yard before they lose possession to the Bruins.
“Did you marry that boy yet?” Pops asks suddenly.
I chuckle in surprise, shaking my head. “No. I’m not married.”
“What was his name?”
“Devo.”
“No, his full name. It’s Russian, isn’t it?”
“Erik Devopblovic. It’s a mouthful. Devo is easier.”
“Are you still together?”
“Three years running. But he’s not exactly the marrying type. I don’t think I am either.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Is it?” I ask uncertainly. I turn the tab on my beer, spinning it around backwards. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be good at being married.”
“You’re good at everything you put your heart to, Harlow. And that’s what marriage is. It’s pouring your heart into everything.”
I force a small smile. “It sounds exhausting.”
“It is.” He grins at me sideways. “You have no idea what you’re missing.”
“How long were you and Carla married?”
“Thirty-seven years. And I would have killed for just one more.”
“I wish I could have met her.”
“I do too. She would have loved you.”
“I don’t know about that. I’m not easy to love.”
“Don’t start with that,” he warns me gently. “I won’t listen to it. And neither should you.”
I bite my lip, nodding my head slowly. I’m trying to breathe, trying to remember how, but it gets tough when I think about my dad. And I think about him a lot. He slips into my consciousness constantly, his influence molding my day minute by minute. I can’t look at my own face without seeing the distortion he swore was there. The defects that made me ugly and unlovable. Even sitting here with Pops, a man who has never been anything but supportive and loving to me, I think I’m shit on his shoe. I don’t deserve his love. Or Devo’s. Or Bear’s. I definitely don’t deserve Josh’s.
“Lynn talked like that a lot when she was young,” Pops comments wistfully. I’m not used to the tone; Pops doesn’t talk about his daughter very much. Basically never. “I don’t know where she got the idea that she wasn’t worth anything. Carla and I never talked to her that way. I think it was boys. A string of bad boyfriends who made her feel small. Maybe that’s why
she ran…” he trails off, his voice fading. His eyes tightening. He clears his throat roughly before continuing in a stronger tone. “She made mistakes. We all do.”
I want to ask what happened. I have an idea. The whole town has an idea of what went down, but no one knows for sure. Not even Josh. All we know is that his mom, Lynn, ran away with her Uncle David days after Josh was born. Lynn didn’t list a father on his birth certificate. She wasn’t seeing anyone when she got pregnant, no one that anyone had heard about. So what’s coincidence? What’s rumor? What’s speculation and what’s real?
Lynn left behind a lot of questions. A lot of shade for Josh to grow up under, and still he blossomed. Still he bloomed into this massive, magnificent tree rising above the bullshit and the whispers that follow him wherever he goes. He’s stronger than I could ever dream of being and I think it doesn’t matter who his parents are. He would have been better than them no matter what, so it’s not worth wondering. And even if I knew, it would never change the way I look at him.
“Yeah, I know where my issues come from,” I confirm, taking a long drink of my beer. It bubbles up inside the can under my nose, bursting ticklish against my skin. “No mystery there.”
“Have you seen him lately?”
“Not really. I’ve spotted him around town but I avoid him. I haven’t been back to the neighborhood since my eighteenth birthday.”
“He asked me if I knew where you were a few months after you left.”
“Really?” I ask, my chest clenching violently. I feel instantly afraid, like my dad is in the room. “What’d you tell him?”
“I told him to get the fuck off my lawn.”
I can’t help but smile, even as my body dissolves in irrational fear. “Do you think he knows where I am?”
“The whole town knows where you are, Harlow. He could find you if he wanted to, but he’s a coward. He’s not going anywhere near that club.”
“Good. That was the plan.”
“Is that why you ran off with that boy?”
“Devo,” I remind him patiently.
“Right. Devo. Sorry.”
He’s not sorry. He doesn’t like Devo. He doesn’t like ‘hoodlums’, and it makes me wonder what he’d do if he found out about Josh’s business. What would he say if he knew where Josh was right now?
“I ran off with Devo because I wanted to be with him,” I answer his original question.
“Do you love him?”
“I better,” I laugh. “We’ve been together three years.”
“Does he love you?”
“He says he does.”
“And you believe him?”
“Why would he lie to me?”
Pops shrugs, sipping his beer, his eyes on the television. He doesn’t like my answers because they’re not answers. They’re crap and I know it but I’m standing by it because it’s all I’ve got. In truth, I love Devo. I’m not in love with Devo, I never have been, but that’s not what he and I are about. He’s been a shield for me. A warrior who swooped in and stole me from the dragon’s keep. I’m grateful for that. For the fact that he’s stayed with me all these years, bringing me into the club and giving me a family to feel safe with. And, yes, he sleeps around, but they all do. Hyde cheats on his wife all the time. Raw was never exclusive with Ava’s mom. Only Bear keeps a different code. As far as I know, he’s stayed faithful to Angela for their entire marriage. It’s an impressive feat and it’s nice for them, but I’d feel weird if Devo was that deeply devoted to me because I absolutely am not that deeply devoted to him.
Obviously.
“Josh is leaving next year.”
I start, looking at Pops’ profile. “He is?”
“He has a scholarship to MIT to study his computer engineering. He’s going to get his Masters.”
My body prickles with points of adrenaline, revolting against the thought. “He didn’t mention it.”
“He’s quiet about it. I think he has big plans to sneak out of town in the middle of the night someday. And I doubt he’ll ever come back.”
“He wouldn’t leave you behind.”
Pops chuckles mirthlessly. “He hates this town, kiddo. He hates it so much, I’d wager he’d leave us both behind if he had to. And that’s saying something.”
I reach across the bed to take Pops’ hand in mine. His skin is paper dry, soft and wrinkled. Bleached white under the caramel brown tan of my skin over his. But it feels familiar. It feels solid, despite his size, and I think Pops is a constant I can count on.
I smile at him warmly. “I’ll always be here, Pops. Always.”
I expect him to smile back. To look relieved.
Instead, he just looks sad. “I know you will, Harlow.”
Chapter Twelve
Josh
Skeeze drives me home. Harlow has disappeared with the club truck so he takes me on the back of his bike. That sucks on so many levels. First of all, I’m riding bitch. Second, I didn’t see Harlow again before I left. I still have her keys in my pocket and I’m worried how that’s going to play out now that I’ve left the club. And third, it sucks because it hurts like a motherfucker. Every bump, every pebble we ride over, I feel inside my body. I’m about to barf again when I finally tip myself off the back of his bike. I hand Skeeze his extra helmet back, shout a ‘Thanks’ to him over the roar of the engine, and shuffle my way up to the door as he tears off down the street. I’m sure Mrs. Merhsawn across the street is in her window, scowling after him.
The bikers are back, she’s probably thinking. All because of those no-good kids.
She’s always been a nosey bitch.
When I get inside, I immediately throw the locks and collapse onto the couch. It’s lumpy. And cold. The house is so fucking cold. Has it always been this cold? This dark? Logically I know it has been, but I’m more aware of it now than before. I’ve been ruined by the club. Maybe in more ways than one.
It’s starting to set in, what happened. What I just agreed to. I didn’t have a lot of options. I could either offer them what I did or I could watch them take over. Maybe by force. It’d be just me and Harrison against an entire biker gang, and Kill alone would be enough to neutralize both of us. I can’t fight them all. I don’t want to. And what does it matter? I’ll be gone in a year anyway. And if I don’t expand with them now and start saving for my future, I won’t be able to make it at MIT. How will I pay for housing and Pops and the mortgage on this house? There aren’t enough hours in the day to work that much, let alone go to class. I’m barely finding time to study as it is.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I know it’s Harrison before I see his name on the caller ID.
“What’s up, man?” I answer.
“Finally!” he exclaims. “Where the hell have you been, Josh? I’ve been calling and texting all night.”
“I know. I was busy.”
“I thought you were dead.”
“No. Not quite.”
“What were you doing?”
“I made a deal with the Due.”
Harrison is quiet for a second. Hesitant. “Is it good or bad?”
“It’s good. I think. I don’t know. The last few days have been a blur. I’m still getting my bearings.”
“What’s going to happen? Are they going to help get our stuff back?”
I pull the bottle of pills from my pocket, tossing it carelessly onto the coffee table. “They already did. I have it. We owe them ten percent of the profits for recovering it.”
“Okay, that’s fair.”
“There’s more.”
“Oh, shit.”
I run my hand through my hair, tugging it away from my eyes. “They’re going to fund us. Help us expand.”
“Seriously? How much?”
“Fifteen hundred in exchange for five percent interest on the loan.”
“That’s not too bad. That’s actually really good.”
“Plus fifteen percent for protection.”
“Whoa, wait. What? They
’re taking twenty percent of the profits?”
“Fifteen percent of the profits plus five percent on the loan until we repay it. That’s the deal. They want one of their guys to go with me on all drops to make sure shit like last night doesn’t happen again.”
“And you’re okay with that?” he asks dubiously.
The truth is, I’m not. This is my business, my brainchild, and I’m pretty annoyed to have to hand over so much of my blood, sweat, and tears to someone else. But life is made of choices and more often than not, they’re bad choices. They’re shitty and shittier, but you still have to choose. And that’s what I did. I made my choice and now I have to live with it.
“It is what it is,” I tell him dryly. “I either cut them in or they cut us out and take over. They made that very clear.”
“Jesus, this sucks.”
“There’s more. At the end of the year, we hand it off to them. Otherwise they would have taken a bigger cut.”
“Okay, well, that’s not actually a bad thing, right? Neither of us was going to keep doing this after graduation anyway.”
“Right. With our product back and their money to expand our inventory with, we’ll be making more money than we ever have before.”
“And you think you can work with them?” he asks carefully. “They’re not exactly upstanding citizens. What if they straight up rob you?”
“They’re outlaws, not assholes. We shook on it. I’m not worried.”
“Do you think you should be?”
Probably.
“Maybe. I’ll see how things go.”
Worst case scenario is I show Raw the ropes and he takes over before the year is up. As in, forcefully takes over. I teach him everything he needs to know and suddenly he doesn’t need me anymore. Just like that, I’ll be out. But maybe I’m underestimating them. Maybe I’m putting a stigma on them the same way this town has done to me. No facts, no evidence; just judgement.
There goes Josh, the inbred baby of the town lunatic.
There go the Devil’s Due, the murdering thieves from the wrong side of the river.
“Do they know about me?” Harrison asks. He’s trying to sound cool but his tone is tense.
“No. I didn’t tell them about you or your seven percent. They don’t need to know.”