Lily placed a hand on Teeny’s hand, on the finger that once again pointed at me and pulled the other woman’s arm down. Without a word, she held onto Teeny’s hand and began to lead her away, looking neither right nor left as she walked.
“I’m thinking there’s a lot more to this story than what we’ve been hearing,” Carly said, nudging me with her shoulder.
“Agreed.” Ryley’s face held a mixture of both curiosity and sympathy as she looked me over. Somehow and in some way, I knew she wasn’t missing a moment of my reaction.
Dallas sighed deeply. “Maybe you need to give us the full of it, Dory.” Her eyes moved over the group to include all the women standing as well as the ones that were squeezed into the two tables that were pushed together.
The looks I received then were 180 degrees different than the ones I’d been given earlier. So I swallowed without looking away before I parted my lips. “I was just fifteen when I met Stan,” I started and saw more than a few grins, caught more than a few nods of encouragement before I went on.
To tell them of the time when I’d started with the Missoula Honeys.
Chapter Seventeen
Bishop walked, shortening his strides as he and J.R. circumnavigated their way towards the grill area of the yard to where the brothers and the Hellions-Missoula council stood. The kid’s arm bumped his a couple of times before Bishop turned to figure out the reason. But all he could see was the top of J.R.’s head, hair flopping , which was pointed down to the skinny fingers that caressed the ‘property of’ patch. The sight of that, of just the reverence that the kid was stroking the mark of his heritage, almost brought Bishop to his knees.
“I’m getting you dig your cut,” Bishop murmured, his heart bumping hard while his voice was bouncing off the last of the cars as they entered the area where the bikes were parked in neat rows.
“Totally,” J.R. replied, his voice sounding more of air than of speech.
There were smiles and there were smiles, but the one that Bishop found on his face was one of the biggest, the proudest, he knew he’d ever wore. “Glad, then. But we need to work a few things out before we meet up with the brothers. Need to give you the 4-1-1 on what might happen tonight.”
J.R.’s head popped up as Bishop’s feet slowed. “My mom told me some of it. About the booze, weed and sex.”
Bishop felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. “She did?”
“Yeah. But I told her that it probably wasn’t anything that I hadn’t already seen at some of the parties I’ve been to.” Taking in J.R.’s chin-jut and the kid’s oh-so-serious eyes, Bishop found himself swallowing the chuckle that wanted out. “I think I can handle it, si…I mean, Bishop.”
“I’m sure you can,” Bishop offered, but the cough that followed his words was the only evidence of the humor that he allowed to escape. “I want to talk about the language first. You’re gonna hear a lot, and I mean a motherfucking lot of swearing tonight. I don’t give a fucking rat’s ass about your goddamn language when you’re with me, but I better not ever fucking hear you use those kind of words around your mother, dig?”
“She swears,” J.R. countered with narrowed eyes, but Bishop could see the wheels in the kid’s, his kid’s, head turning. “How come she can and I can’t?”
It was at that moment, Bishop could finally understand the whole cop-out answer parents used when they didn’t want to give specifics. The complete ‘because I said so’ kind of response that meant fucking shit to kids but got the guardian’s ass off the hook in having to explain. He and J.R. didn’t have that kind of relationship yet, one that had some built-up trust beneath its belt, so he stopped in order to think J.R.’s question through before responding. “A lot of people judge a man by the words he uses. And to more than a few folks, swearing is a sign of a lack of intelligence, dig?”
“I’ve heard that before,” J.R. cut in with a nod, but confusion still clouded the kid’s face.
“With your mom, though, it has to do with respect.” Bishop wanted to make his point very clear because he’d had a helluva time with it in his own early years. “In your lifetime, there’ll be people that you’ll need to show respect to, that’ll need to see that you’re fucking smart as hell and know how to work things. It might be with a cop or in front of a judge. Or in a situation that has small civilian kids that don’t need to be hearing that shit fly outta your mouth.” He leaned towards the younger man, using a hand to grip a skinny shoulder. “Or your mother who loves you and is the one damn person on the face of the earth who has always had your back. To these people and in those situations, you do not cuss. Not at fucking all. You get me?”
The kid’s eyes never left Bishop’s but the older man saw the bobbing of the kid’s prominent Adam’s apple as he swallowed. “Yes, si…, I mean, yes.”
“Good. “ Bishop nodded, before turning back towards the grill area. “Second thing. I don’t wanna catch you drinking until you’re sporting your Hellion recruit patch, should you decide that’s the life for you.”
“How old…” J.R. started but Bishop cut him off having already recognized that his kid, the fruit of his loins was in a hurry to get to adulthood.
“Eighteen.” Bishop glanced at the group they were just coming up on before shooting J.R. a look. “Not a minute before.” He bit the inside of his cheek to try and stop his smile at what he was going to add. “But the key word, dude? It was ‘catch’, in case you missed it.”
The stutter of J.R.’s feet was gratifying and found Bishop turning his head away sharply before the kid could see the crooked grin Bishop was fighting. Just to keep the boy-man on his toes, Bishop let loose with the last of it. “We’ll have a talk regarding the rules about the Hellion Honeys and you giving them the high-hard another time.”
“What?!” J.R.’s exclamation that broke and squeaked half-way through was loud and, at the sound, Bishop was done in restraining in his laughter. It felt too good to hold back and by the time Bishop let it out it was loud and long, gaining the attention of the cluster of brothers that hovered around the grill, their large bodies swiveling towards Bishop and J.R. “Christ, mo’ foes! The flares mean the meat is burning!”
“Already on it, wise-ass,” Snake mumbled, sprinkling water from a plastic cup over the worst of the flames.
“Yo’, Bish.”
“How they hanging, bro’?”
Huff came and stood off of Bishop’s shoulder as Dare moved to stand next to J.R. It was a finagling of positions, one Bishop knew was to inform the rest of the club of the solidarity of its council in bringing a Hellion kid around the brother’s side of the yard.
One that was usually done just weeks after the birth of a ‘Hellionette’.
It may have been thirteen years in the making, Bishop thought to himself. But I’m fucking gonna get my chance at the damn introduction scene! And just before he parted his lips, he remembered more than one brother who had gotten teary-eyed during the commencement, emotions that he hadn’t understood until the very moment it was his turn to do it. But Bishop more than remembered the words, having heard them countless times throughout his years as a member.
Draping an arm around J.R.’s shoulders and squeezing the teenager into his side, Bishop looked around the group before gazing down into his son’s wide, surprised hazel eyes, ones that were more green than brown.
A mirror image of his own.
He turned back to the conclave of his club before his voice began to fill the night air. “Brothers! It is my extreme pleasure to introduce you to my son, Stanley Robert Bastian Jr. A boy I both claim in name and in body and spirit. A child that may, in turn, become another Hellion member and one who I pledge to protect with my life, much as I would do for each Hellion I lead and support. Should I fail, I entrust his care and keeping to you, his family from this day forward.”
He wanted to turn his head to gauge J.R.’s reaction to his words, wanted to see whatever emotion was in his son’s face but Bishop was too afraid to even blink. Becau
se blinking would’ve allowed all the water in his eyes to overflow, giving him away at just the motherfucking portent of what he had said and at what it meant to him to even have the opportunity to announce and introduce J.R. to his men, his brothers in the club.
“And what will we call him?” Trey yelled the traditional response, one that was usually reserved for an elder club member, a grandparent if at all possible.
“J.R.,” Bishop said firmly, tightening his arm even more around the thin, bony shoulders of the boy-man pressed into his side. Christ! He wanted, no needed to get a grip so he could look and verify that J.R. was okay with all that was doing.
“Or Bishop’s son,” J.R. countered and Bishop was awed to note the pride in the kid’s voice, which didn’t break once as he offered his own two-cents, much like his dad would’ve done at that age.
The men began to line up in front of Dare, a queue that would move as Bishop formally introduced J.R. to all the men in attendance, ending with Trey at the very finish, even after Dare and Huff. But the surprising thing, the most amazing thing that caught Bish each time it was done, was how each and every brother, after giving J.R. a fist bump or hand clasp, was that Bishop was pulled into another manly chest and given a hard thump on his back. A congratulatory pound that seemed to celebrate Bishop’s newfound heart-wealth in having discovered he was a father.
That was, until the brothers started using their words. “Glad you ain’t dying, Bish.”
“Delighted to see you healthy and happy, man.”
Or even the more often bellowed, “Fuck, dude! I mean…fuck!”
“Glad to officially meet you, little man.” Huff’s voice sounded gruffer than usual and Bishop watched the large man’s paw as it enveloped J.R.’s. “You are one of us now. How you feeling?”
There was a soft childish sigh and Bishop wondered at the sound. Wondered enough to turn his head only to encounter his kid’s face. One that was running with streaming rivulets of tears that the boy-man didn’t even try to hide. “Overwhelmed, Mr. Huff. Utterly, fucking overwhelmed by it all.”
Huff leaned down, way down until his forehead met J.R.’s dark locks. “That’s the best. The goddamn right way to feel it, boyo. Real and true is the way to fucking absorb any of the good shit in life and to tuck it away so’s you don’t forget. Don’t let any goddamn ass-wipe tell you different, yeah? C’mere. Uncle Huff needs a hug.”
Bishop noticed he wasn’t the only one that had to turn his head away at the sight of the huge blonde man enveloping the much smaller boy into his abdomen. But it was the sound of J.R.’s hitching breath that had more than one brother turning their backs on the scene and clearing their throats.
Bishop included.
By the time he’d gotten a hold on his emotions, turning to the last of the men that comprised the line, Huff’s eyes were leaking too. “You wanna pull him off me, brothers?”
“Let’s just fucking switch, douche bag. Can’t handle real emotions, dude? Ssshhhiiittt,” Dare replied before Bishop could even seem to think. “On second thought…” the large dark-haired and youngest member of the council blinked deep and swallowed hard as J.R.’s spindly arms encircled his waist. Bishop watched as his brother, the one who had always said he’d never fall in love, never settle on just one girl, leaned in and over Bishop’s boy. Encapsulating the skinniness of the pubescent teen into his broad chest, holding him close as he bent his head, Dare rested his chin at the top of J.R.’s head and closed his eyes for more than a few quiet moments. Blinking and catching Bishop’s gaze, Dare intoned, “I want me one of these. Fuck, yeah. I fucking need me one of these!”
Since he was still coughing from the back-slam of Huff, Bishop couldn’t respond. It had been shocking enough when Dare had been willing to give up the club for Ryley when ol’ Gus had demanded his cut in return for being with his daughter. But to see how tenderly his brash brother was treating J.R. almost boggled Bishop’s mind.
And that Dare openly admitted he wanted his own child? Fuck!
“For Christ’s sake, Dare! Let the kid go. It’s my fucking turn,” Trey demanded with a scowl. “If I’d known it was gonna take fucking forever for you other fuckers to greet the kid, I’d have goddamn demanded to go first!”
J.R. wiped his face with the hem of his ‘Skater’s Rule’ t-shirt after he’d disentangled himself from Dare. But the youngest of the council wasn’t yet done and proved it when he captured J.R.’s chin and brought it up. “Here’s the dealio. You’ve got your moms and now you have a pops. But sometimes, a dude can’t always go to his fuckin’ parents, right? In those fuckin’ moments, you call me and I swear by all I hold holy: my ride, my woman and my club, I’ll be there, kid. It’s a vow and a promise that I’ll fuckin’ be there for you no matter what shit is going down. Don’t give a fuck if it’s silly or something you think is hella lame. You call and I’m motherfuckin’ there, little man. You get me?”
Bishop saw J.R.’s Adam’s apple bob again before the soft, “Yes, Mr. Dare,” was heard.
“Since your old man is my brother, that’s ‘Uncle Dare’ to you, you little shit,” Dare replied with a grin. “Now motherfuckin’ go forth and raise hell, dude.”
Trey waited, remained standing in place as Dare performed the one-thump hug to Bishop, offered only with a, “Fucking Christ, shithead,” as to his feelings.
After Dare moved off, out of earshot, Trey stepped forward placing his large hands on J.R.’s shoulders as he stared into the young teen’s eyes. “I was born and raised a Hellion, so I pro’lly don’t totally get what you’re goddamn feeling right now. A new dad, new place to live and all these crazy fucking bikers claiming you as one of their own? It’s a big fucking change and will pro’lly mess with your head more than a little. But here’s what you need to know. To know way down deep in your motherfucking bones.” Trey took a deep breath which seemed to add even more weight to the words that were next heard. “You have family.”
J.R.’s breath hitched and Bishop saw his son was breathing through his mouth in deep pants.
“A huge family that you can count on, who you can count on when you need help and who’ll get all up in your shit even when you don’t fucking want them to. They’ll know all your goddamn bidness—even the shit you think you’ve hidden, correct you on your fucking doings but cheer for you when the doings go right.” Trey’s eyes softened. “It’s dysfunctional as fuck, but glorious as hell to have these fuckers on your side, J.R., real and true.”
J.R. nodded, his eyes still firmly glued on the Hellion president, the big man who held the gavel for the Missoula club.
“And we are over the motherfucking moon to claim you as ours, little man,” Trey finished softly before pulling J.R. against him for a tight hug, one which found the large man rubbing a much smaller and skinnier back. “Welcome to the Hellions.”
“What about my mom?” Bishop’s eyes hit Trey’s with the boy-man’s whispered question. “Will you protect her too? Take care of her like you say you’ll take care of me? ‘Cause she doesn’t have anyone else but me.”
Trey pulled back, shifting his grip on the boy to place his hands on the back of the kid’s skinny neck, as he bent down until they were eye-to-eye. “You wanna know a secret? Something I don’t think even your old man knows?”
J.R. nodded so hard, the hair on his forehead moved.
“When I was just a little older than you, I had such a fucking crush on your mom.”
“You did?” The squeak was back in the kid’s voice.
“You better fucking believe it,” Trey averred, his face giving credence to his words. “She was the hottest chick I’d ever met and sweet? Man, your mom was so sweet back in the day.”
“So why’d you let her leave? If you thought she was, like, all that and all, why’d you let her go away?” For some reason, Bishop more than knew that was a question that came from a place deep inside his son and one that the kid had tried to work out on his own but couldn’t answer. Anymore than his father was ab
le to do after more than thirteen years to come to grips with it.
“You know the Hellion motto?”
“Mom told me. The whole ‘live free or die’ thing?”
“That’s it. That’s how every man here is expected to live his life. The Honeys, too. So if someone wants to leave, feels the fucking need to go do something else, the club has to accept it.” Trey paused for more than a couple of heartbeats. His voice, when it came again, was quieter than ever. “Even if it rips you up when they go.”
“You didn’t want her to leave?”
“Nobody did,” Bishop answered, jumping into the conversation. “Not one goddamn person in the club wanted to see her go.”
“Not even you?” J.R.’s face was a study as he turned to his father.
Bishop felt a pang shoot through him but it wasn’t of the physical variety. It was one on the inside, in the deep recesses where his memories of Dory were stored. “Especially not me, son.”
“But you’ll protect her anyway? Even though she quit you and the Hellions?”
Bishop wished he had more than words to assure his kid, to take away the insecurity he could plainly read in young man’s eyes. “With my goddamn life, J.R. And that’s a promise from me to you. There’s not one fucking thing on earth that would prevent me from protecting both you and your mother from motherfucking Satan himself.”
Trey nudged J.R. to bring his face back to his. “So, you’ve heard it from your old man and from me about how the Hellions fucking take care of their own. But it’s up to you to decide if you want to be a part of it.”
“I do, Mr. Trey,” was offered on a deep swallow. “I really, m-motherfucking do.”
Trey’s smile, emerging slowly, was large enough to showcase his dimples. “Good answer, kid. But, I’m your uncle and not a ‘mister’, yeah?”
“Yeah,” J.R. breathed, his own smile bright in the glow of the large lights that surrounded the yard. “Thank you.”
Trey stood to his full height and after shooting J.R. a wink, stepped to Bishop and hugged his Hellion brother, the one who had always had his back even in the early years. “Fucking amazing, Bish. You a goddamn dad.”
Checkmate With Bishop: A Hellions MC Novel Page 17