by Oakes, Tara
He’s only been with us a couple of days, but he’s getting a nice little routine going. Sugar and I agreed to have a good cop/bad cop thing going if we needed to, but so far…it’s been a walk in the park. He’s a damn good kid and seems happy to be with us. So far he’s met Sunny and Lil’s. Tonight he’ll get to meet everyone else. Including Ava, Lord help us.
“Daddy?” the tot calls to me.
I search the rearview mirror for him, “Mmm hmm?….”
“Can you put the turtles on?”
This kid loves the freakin' Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I inhale sharply when I realize that we didn’t bring that cartoon. Sugar sits up straight, sifting through the oversized bag she’s packed with all of my son’s things for tonight.
“I’ve got it!” she squeals, and holds it up like a hard-earned prize. She wastes no time in switching out the discs in the player and gets the cartoon set up for him. The familiar theme song that’s been playing non-stop in the house begins to chime through the top-of-the-line sound system.
Brendan starts to kick his legs excitedly, “Thanks, Chawlee!”
Sugar smiles self satisfactorily at me. All right. I can give credit where credit is due.
******
The faces stare blankly back at me as I retell the story. Sugar’s heard it before, and tries her best not to let any biased emotions slip through.
“She just up and left him with her folks?” Trojan asked the question I’m sure all of these people gathered around us are wondering.
I shrug my shoulders. “Yep. They think it’s just prescription pills, but you never know. For all we know she could be shooting hard-ass shit in her veins. Her parents are old as hell and not able to take care of him, but even their place was a better spot for him than with her.”
Tiny finishes the last of his near empty beer. “How come she didn’t call you?”
I roll my eyes. These people know Barbara. At least they knew her…before she became a junkie, that is. Their guess is as good as mine.
“Probably because she knew you’d never give him back,” Vince verbalizes his guess as he and Butch pull up chairs into our circle of discussion. They sit next to their children, Jay and Lil’s. Butch looks pallid and balances his cigarette and beer bottle in the same hand.
Sugar clears her throat almost immediately after they’ve joined us, “I need to go check on him.” She leaves us.
“The whole idea of him just being left really pisses her off.” I don’t think my explanation is necessary, since it’s pretty obvious how she lights up around him.
“It pisses me off, too,” Lil’s adds. Jay reaches around his wife’s shoulders and pulls her in closer. “Thank God that little boy has you guys. Charlie’s twice the woman that deadbeat ever was.”
I savor the beer in my mouth while I ponder over those words. Fuck yeah, Sugar’s more woman then Barb ever was. I’m damn lucky to have her. My son is damn lucky to have her. I watch as she swerves through the crowd, making small talk with almost every brother and ol' lady she passes.
I bite the inside of my cheek as she retreats back into the boardroom where the kids are set up. Her perfectly plump ass bounces with each step away from me. It’s been more than just a little adjustment since Brendan came home, and I haven’t exactly had as much “quality” time with her ass as I’m used to.
******
CHARLIE
He looks so small sitting in Clink’s chair at the Kingsmen boardroom table. His daddy’s chair dwarfs his small little frame, but it’s pulled up real close to the edge of the thick wooden table so his bitty arms can reach the coloring book laid out in front of him.
Ava’s hovering near him, “You’re supposed to color inside the lines, Brendan,” she grabs for a nearby crayon and moves to demonstrate her artistic skills. “Like this….”
Brendan begins to pout as his paper canvas is overtaken by the little girl. “Chawlee says I can color where I want as long as it’s not on the walls.”
I laugh to myself. I did say that. Ava doesn’t give up, though, and works to finish his masterpiece. Brendan’s had enough and throws his half-used blue crayon across the table.
“Stop bossin’me around, Ava!” he screams, his little cheeks and ears beginning to redden themselves in anger.
The little girl doesn’t miss a beat and continues her artwork. Brendan stands up from his seat. “I said STOP! This is for Chawlee. It’s not yours!”
He grabs the sheet out from under her coloring stick, leaving a long jagged line on it, from the pull. His small brown eyes double in size at the unintended mark.
“You ruined it! It’s ruined!” he wails.
Embarrassed, Ava tries to downplay her guilt. “So? Why are you even making her a picture? She’s not your ma.”
And…that seemed to do the trick. Brendan throws the coloring book aside and pounces, pushing the little girl to the ground. Her braided hair flops around as she wiggles under him, trying to free herself from his weak but emphatic fists. I practically fly to their side of the table to separate them, but the task isn’t as easy as I’d imagined it to be.
“Brendan! Stop! It’s over.” I try to get a grip on his thin arms to hold them at bay and away from the little girl. He’s a squirmer, though, and it takes me a few attempts to still him. His breathing is fast and shallow as his body ripples with child-sized fury.
Once I have him fully subdued, I pull him back into my chest and hold him tight, rocking back and forth. “It’s OK, kiddo. It’s over. Relax…breathe deep.”
Jean is right behind me, rushing to break up the squabble, and she’s tending to Brendan’s opponent. Other than getting the wind knocked out of her, Ava seems to be recovering fine. The commotion seems to have garnered the attention of some of the brothers nearby, and word has spread to parents.
Clink heads in just as Brendan is starting to breathe regularly, followed by Trojan and Sarah. The parents take to their respective child and ask the automatic questions of what’s happened and who started it.
Each child points to the other, and the accusations fly.
“Did you hit her, son?” Clink asks. I know he’s not asking me, that I’m not the one in trouble, but you’d never know it from the reaction my body is having. I panic for Brendan and clutch him tighter.
Clink sees my slight reaction and darts his eyes up to mine, stilling me instantly.
“She…,” the boy whispers in a defeated tone. “She talked about my mom. She talked about Charlie, too.”
Trojan squints his eyes and watches his daughter as she speaks up to defend herself. “That’s not what I meant, Brendan. I wasn’t talking bad about your ma.”
Clink shakes off her words from behind him. We’ve gathered an audience by now, and I can tell the boy is embarrassed.
“Brendan, I asked you a question. Did you hit her?”
I close my eyes tight as Brendan admits to his crime, “Yes, sir.”
Clink exhales deep and slow, “Alright. Let’s go,” he reaches out for his son’s shoulder to take him from me.
Brandon moves to hide in my arms, and I willingly take him. Clink raises his chin to me, in silent question, cocking his eyebrow, eyes darkened and more serious than I’ve ever seen them.
Fuck.
My heart breaks as I force myself to speak, to say the words I have no doubt will shatter this little boy right now.
“Brendan…” I swallow hard. “You have to go with your dad.” He looks up at me, fear in his eyes. I force myself to smile. “It’s OK, bud. Be a big boy. It’ll be fine.”
He knows I’m lying, that it will most definitely not be OK for the next few minutes, but he fortifies himself with a deep breath, straightens his shoulders back and nods silently to me. I kiss his little forehead, still slicked with sweat from his physical disagreement, and hand him off to Clink.
Clink’s face is like stone, not revealing anything. My eyes beg him for leniency on the little boy as he’s carted off. The packed room parts for the
father and son to walk through. Once they’ve left, the room fills with awkward silence, before people return to their meals or drinks.
My chest feels heavy, my conscience constricted. I feel like a traitor. I know he’s not mine, but every instinct in my body is telling me to run after them and shield him from his father and the justice he’s about to experience. He’s too young, too sweet to be held accountable for a hair-trigger response to a raw topic.
But, I know that’s not how the Kingsmen operate. Most of these brothers have been raised in the club, their own pop’s being members. They instill their values early, with no room for misinterpretation.
Jean moves next to me, “You all right, girl?” I look to her, and she nods. “Let’s get a drink.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Where the hell are they?
It’s been over fifteen minutes. How long does something like this take? I nervously fidget with the napkin under my glass.
“Better?” Jean asks.
I shrug my shoulders and make a weak attempt at a smile. She laughs.
“It doesn’t get easier, sweetheart. You gotta learn to trust your man and let him handle these things” she takes a sip of her bottle of domestic beer. “And then…when your boy needs his mama after, you dry his tears.”
“Easier said than done.” She nods in agreement with my statement. “I mean, he’s been through so much, I just think he should be cut some slack.”
Jean listens and weighs my words, “Perhaps. But that’s not how life works. You two have a mighty important job here. That little boy is gonna be a man one day. The lessons he learns every single day, fair or not, are gonna help determine what kind of man that is, darlin’. I remember the days of sitting by and waiting for my ol’man to get done teaching Jay those lessons. Damn near gave me an ulcer worrying that my boy would hate us for it.”
I turn my full attention to her.
“But…,” she finishes, “I look at my boy, grown into a man now, about to have a little one of his own…,” her eyes take on a long lost gleam to them. She catches herself and snaps herself back, “…and I know I did my job.”
She rests her hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.
The door to the main room opens and Clink allows the little boy to enter ahead of him. I struggle to stay seated, wanting to run to him and scoop him in my arms, but I don’t. I can see as they approach that his eyes are reddened. Clear, dried streaks run down his cheeks, evidence of the tears that once fell.
Clink looks tired, mentally worn. They make their way to me, and Brendan tries his best to smile. “Chawlee?” he asks me.
“Yeah, bud?” I answer, analyzing his voice for something, anything to give clue as to his feelings.
He looks up to his dad, standing near, before making his request of me. “Can you take me to say sorwy to Ava?”
A warm feeling floods through me. I look briefly to Clink and he nods. Then back to the little boy as his lashes flutter, awaiting my answer. I try to collect myself, not wanting a cracking voice to give away my pride and undermine anything.
“Sure, bug. Let’s go find her.”
I take Brendan’s hand and let him lead the way. I pass close enough to my man to give him a quick little kiss and a smile. He moans, needing more, but we have a strictly PG audience today.
It doesn’t stop him from grabbing a handful of my ass as I leave, though.
******
CLINK
“He asleep?” I ask Sugar as she gently closes the bedroom door behind her.
She nods, and covers her luscious lips with her finger, “Shhh….”
I lower my voice and pull back the blankets from her side of the bed. “Thank God. This day needs to be over, already. The last time I had to punish him, he wasn’t even two. All I had to do back then was take away his toy.” I exhale, long. “This was a hell of a lot harder to do.”
She climbs in and reaches to her nightstand to pump a bit of lotion onto her hands, before rubbing them together. “He isn’t hurt, is he?”she asks.
I laugh, pulling her to me. “His bottom will be a little sore tomorrow, but he’ll be fine.” She snuggles in close, only reaching out to turn the lamp off. “I remember the one time I ever hit a girl…let’s just say I couldn’t sit for a lot longer than a day.”
Even though the room is dark, I can feel Sugar angling her head to me, curious as to my own punishment story.
“What happened?” She can’t contain that curiosity.
I think back. “I was in the second grade. Susie Meyer heard some shit rumor, probably from her parents, that my dad was a no-good thug. She felt the need to share that information with me, in front of every other kid on our class.”
Sugar makes a sharp hissing sound, “Oooh, that’s terrible.”
I roll on my side to face her, front to front. “It wasn’t fun. But, my pop made it clear that people are gonna say shit. How you respond or react to it, pretty much lets them know if they were right.”
Her soft fingers find their way to my chest, “Your dad sounds like he was a wise man….”
I shift in closer, my own hands sliding through the blankets to find her curves, and grabbing tightly to them. “He was the smartest man I ever met. He was a hard-ass, but I wanted to be just like him.”
Her warm breath flows through the inch or so between us, spilling out over my skin, “You must miss him.”
I kiss the tip of her nose. “Every fucking day. I always wondered if I’d be half the dad he was. When she took Brendan away from me, I didn’t think I’d ever get to find out.”
She inches forward and swipes her tongue out to heat my already scorched mouth. “You’re gonna be a fantastic dad, from what I’ve seen so far.”
I laugh into her neck as I move my kisses away from her fuck-me lips. “Oh yeah? You sure looked like you wanted to kill me when I stepped in between the boy and Ava.”
She moans from my touch, my lips finding their way to her tit. “I just wasn’t used to that. My dad never raised a hand to me or Dana when we were kids.”
Other than the one day at lunch with her ma, she’s never mentioned her dad before. I don’t know when I’ll ever get the chance to ask about him again, so I back off of her boob, releasing the tip from my mouth. “You miss him.”
Sugar’s chest expands deeply at the question. “Every fucking day,” she uses my own words from earlier, but I don’t doubt their sincerity. “He…he was one in a million. He sacrificed so much…and he loved me when he didn’t have to.”
Huh…that’s cryptic enough. “What father doesn’t have to love his own daughter?”
She stiffens in my arms. “What…?Oh-I meant,” her breath quickens, “it must not have been easy for him…to love me. But, he did, and-”
I take her mouth in mine, deep, lingering to make sure she believes the words I’m about to tell her. “Sugar…I can tell you first hand, it’s the easiest thing in the world to love you.”
She pulls back, fast. I can hear the swallow she makes, “What….?”
I roll her over, pressing myself on top of her, settling my stiffened cock between us.
“I said…you make it easy to love you. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
Her hands blindly find my face to hold it. “You’ve never said that before….”
It’s true. I’ve never told her I’ve loved her. Truth is, I didn’t know I loved her for a long time. I knew I couldn’t be without her, but the baggage I carried from before her, made it a hard pill to swallow to admit it to myself. I swore I’d never let a woman in again, give her the power to break me. But fuck, there’s no way I can notlet her in at this point. Without her, it’s not worth having, anyway.
“Are you saying…?”
Damn. Does she want me to spell it out for her? I’ll do better than that. I’ll fucking show her. I methodically move my hands to grab her boy shorts and pull them down, panties and all. She helps, shifting on her hips to allow the material to flow eas
ily down her silky soft legs. Once her body is clear of the hindrance, I push my body into her, guiding her legs up.
The tip of my dick teases itself by bumping into the heat of her pussy and jumps with excitement, eager to slide home.
“I’m saying…” I line my hips up and press deep, teasing her nub with skin, “I love you.” I don’t give her opportunity to respond with anything other than a low satisfied moan as I thrust into her, joining our bodies into one. Her back arches and her hands grab around my back, nails pressing deep.
“And you…” I instruct her, “are gonna tell me you love me, every time I make you come tonight.”
I plunge my tongue into her waiting mouth, taking each hitch of her breath as it escapes her lips. My hand leaves the tempting cushion of her tits, and inches its way down between us to the slickened area between our thighs. My body slips in and out of hers bringing her closer to the words.
My fingers explore the area where her warmth wraps around me, navigating the folds to find her spot. Her body is like a map, one I’ve spent night after night discovering. And the spot I’m working on now? It’s the mother-fucking treasure chest.
Her breath quickens and her lips leave mine to find my ear and bite it. “That’s it, baby.”
“Yeah?” I ask, “You got something else to say to me?”
She thrusts her body into mine, spurring me on. “Not yet.”
“Is that so?” Well, that just won’t do, I think. I grab under her leg and hitch it up and out, widening her space for me, rotating my hips‘round to add friction to her. Her breaths quicken and her body wriggles under me.
“Say it,” I command.
She bites her lip, eyes clenching tight. The tiny space between her eyebrows furrows in frustration. She whimpers.
“Say it….” I coax her.
“I…” she sighs. Her flesh breaks out in a sweat. A patch of reddened skin breaks out over her throat. Her legs stiffen and her throat opens as her body reels from it. Her arms shiver around me and her voice quakes, but she gives it to me.